The Spaces In Between
This was my third landing in Shannon, each time coming back from the Middle East, the first time was Kuwait in 2002, the second, on my way home for leave from Iraq in October of 2005. This, as far as I knew, last time was coming home from Iraq, January 9th, 2006.
The decent seemed always the same, as if Shannon, Ireland was frozen in time and space, never changing, never moving forward or backward, a place and time between Now and Then, Here and There.
Decending the airliner would sink into grey white clouds heavy with rain, the leading edge of the wing cutting through tendrels of the condensed moisture like knife edges, the flaps and slats moving up and down like blind hands. Cloud tops slipping away like half remembered thoughts. On into the cloud, patches of dark and light whipping by, the wing tip light winking in the distance, beads of water chasing themselves across the thick window.
Below the cloud layer, were green fields and srone houses linked by rain slicked roads. For me Ireland las like returning to Life after the bleak, drab colors of the Middle East.
In the terminal Soldiers crowed the small bar, eager for their first beer in months, the bar tenders serving them up as fast as they could. Various unit stickers, mostly Air Force and Navy squadrens, decorated the mirrors on the bar. Near by was a gift shop stocked with paperbacks and books about Ireland. Other shelfs held knick-nacks, racks of European football jerseys, and more shelfs of alcohol. Irish whiskey, beer, mead...
After the intial rush for the much desired, and in many ways, needed alcohol most of the Soldiers selected spots amongst the plastic benches to sit down to some serious drinking. In many ways this was a fore shadowing of events when we all were finally released after the formations and awards were given out, after we went Home. Some of us would dive into bottles and cans and not surface for months, maybe years. Maybe never.
The tide of booze would wash away the nightmares, or at least drown them long enough for us to get to sleep. It's an ignoble tradition as old as soldiering, as old as mankind itself.
But that's another story.
I sat in a cluster with Doc, Ski and Pooter - DeVore's Dirt Bags - Pooter had named our little band, later we would be included with another group, self named The Outcasts.
The Outcasts consisted of SGTs Z, Mitz, and my old number two from Team Mayhem, Agie.
Agie was guitly of the crime of choosing an MOS other than Infantry. He had started out on Active Duty as an ammunition handler at Ft Benning, handing out things that go BOOM to the Rangers. After joining the Guard he switched MOSs to Infantry.
Coming from the pouge world he was already seen as an outsider. I, myself, had taunted him one cold cloudless night waiting for transpo. We were all sitting clustered together like sheep attempting the losing battle of ignoring the penertrating cold, when I asked Agie how he liked being a Grunt. Later that year, as the company was moblizing for Iraq Agie fell prey to some kind of lung infection which further weakend his standing with us "old Grunts". That event was followed by him falling out during a freezing rain and snow soaked exercise at Ft Bliss. Three bad marks and he became unwanted in the platoon. When he ws assigned to my fire team in Iraq I didn't even want him. I didn't trust him. I was later to be proven wrong. Agie was steady, relibale, and trust worthy. He kept a cool head under fire and stress and served as the Ying to my Yang in Team Mayhem. And for that he will always have my loyalty.
SGT Mitz had come to the company after the Kuwait mission. A big tattooed guy with blunt features that hid his intellicence, his first mission with the company was on an Annule Training mission in Hawaii. There he fell out with an injury to his knee and was immideatly, and unfairly stuck with the unwanted label of "Shit Bag" which continued to follow him to Iraq where he was thrown into Headquarters platoon with all the other 'undesirables'.
Sgt Z had been in and out of C for Charlie Company since 1998. An outspoken NCO from New Jersey, former JAG corps Soldier whos time dated back to before the First Gulf War. Z could rub people the wrong way with his brassness, saying things that were not expected and, much of the time, not wanted to be heard. But he took a liking to me and me to him.
Assigned as a Team Leader to SSG Bull during the first part of the deployment at FT Bliss, Z was, in all honesty, out of his depth as and Infantry Team Leader. He tened to get overwhelmed at times of stress - information saturation I believe is what the fighter pilots call it. He would lock up in situations, one exercise involved a stuation where the Squad Leader, SSG Bull, was taken out by a sniper, leaving Z incharge. He had to supress the sniper, recover SSG Bull, and call for extract. Z had a total brain lock.
Later, I was gone on Emergancy Leave, in the aftermath of an ambush mission gone wrong, SFC Burt, 1st PLT's platoon sergeant - has he could only do - was taking rellish in smoking the platoons NCOs asked if anyone wanted to quit. For good or bad, SGT Z admited that he had had enough. On the spot Z was relieved of his Team Leader status and put into my Fire Team as a riflemen. He didn't lose any rank but was considered a private.
This set up a losing battle for us both in the end, though who came out worse is up for discussion. I'll leave that to you.
Assigned to my Fire Team I treated Z with the same respect I would anybody else. Maybe more.
1. He was an NCO, same as I, and I afforded him the same respect I would any other NCO placed under my command.
2. He had time and grade on me. I was still in high school when he was in the Army,duh.
3. He is a human being and might have made a mistake. Prehaps he was out of his depth as a combat leader but Z was, and is, a good Soldier. He had never done me wrong so why despise the man? Why seek to destroy him?
These ideals did not sit well with my Squad Leader, SSG Harvey, or the Bravo Team Leader, SGT Al.
The story of these two and my realtionship with them is the stuff of Greek Tragidies, truly. Both, at one time were considered very close friends of mine, the best of friends. I lived with SSG Harvey and his wife for a time, SGT Al I loved as brother, I looked to him as a young Soldier I could mentor, someone that could do the things I couldn't as a your man. He was my Anikin Skywalker, I was his Obi Wan Kanobi. He could bring blance to The Force, instead he tore it apart. And me with it. Al, and what happend between us is one of the reasons I have a very hard time trusting people today. Never let someone get close to you, less they put knife in your back.
Harvey and Al had an almost unnatural hatred for SGT Z. They wanted to destroy him and they wanted me to go along with their plan. I had other ideas.
Z ws mine, he was in my Fire Team and I refused to sabotage a member of my team. As long as he preformed as expected, as long has he did what I told/asked him to do and did not present a danger to the team, squad, platoon, and company then there was no reason to molest that member. If he didn't then all Hell would decend on him in the form of me. And only me.
So, I stood up for Z. As much as I could I shielded him from Harvey and Al.
Maybe I was wrong. Prehaps I should have followed what Harvey wanted me too, if I did things would have turned out much better for me in the end.
But I didn't.
Not to get on a high horse, but I did what I thought was right. I stood my ground as passively as I could have, I never disobeyed a lawful order from a higher ranking NCO. But I refused to compromise what I felt was right. What was fair. If I had... well... I don't think I would feel as good about myself as I do now.
Al, in particular, seemed to take sadistic joy in riding SGT Z, in telling him what to do, in reminding Z that he, AL, was a Team Leader and under his control. Mostly this happened when I was not around.
One inncodent comes immideatly to mind.
The battalion was ending it's training cycle at FT Bliss. We had started on Main Post Ft Bliss in 19 August 2004, later to move to tents in the lee of the Organ Mountains for a month, and finally to the Dona Ana training complex in New Mexico. There the battalion had the first hard shelters it had seen for nearly four months.
With the end of training and Christmas Leave coming up the battlion was allowed to drink nearly every night with the understanding that it would not effect the duty day.
After one of these nights I was taking a shower, washing way the nights partying, when CPL Sealor came into the shower tent.
"SGT D! You better get back to the barracks! SGT Al is going off on SGT Z and I think they are going to fight!"
I toweled off as quick as I could and threw on my DCUs, shower shoes on my feet, boots in one hand and wet towel over my shoulder. As I jogged up to my platoons building I saw Z coming out of the door, trash bag in hand and Al right after him, screaming at Z. Al turned to his left, door held open and aimed a kick at the near by trash can, over flowing with empty bottles and cans, refuge of the night before.
Z was already feet way before Al's foot connected with the can. Empty cans, green and brown beer bottles, exploded into the clear morning air landing with the glassy clinks and thumps of a recycling bin.
"What the FUCK is going on here!" I bellowed, ripping my towel off my shoulder. I have a loud deep voice and I think it was the last thing Al expected to hear that morning.
Al stood on the stoop, looking at the mess he made, " Well, I..."
"I fucking what!? SGT Al?"
"I told Z to clean up the barracks, to take the trash out and he didn't do it..."
"Isn't it your teams turn to take the trash out?"
"Well... Yes, but they went to the PX and..."
"And what?"
"So I told Z to and he said he would in a minute, but I told him to do it now and he said I don't have to listen to your your not my team leader. But he's nothing, his rank dosen't mean anything anymore..."
"Bullshit! That man has more time in grade than either of us! It's your teams duty to take out the trash today, not his! I'm his motherfucking team leader! If you have a problem you bring it to me! Not kick over trash cans like a baby!"
I stepped back, frustration at the last few months ebbing away from me, trying to stay rational, trying to salavage something from the wreckage that was coming out of this deployment.
God, I never thought I would be losing friends over this...
Over the months I had noticed a change in Al. Ever since he had been promoted to E-5 he had changed. Become more and more power hungry. Challenging my orders and ideas, becoming more and more brutal towards his team. Whats; going on here?
"You can't do that, Al. You can't bully someone into doing something, not one of my team members, not when I'm not around. If you have a problem with SGT Z bring it up to me. If we can't solve it then we got to SSG Harvey. But, not this way."
I walked up the steps to the barracks, shaking my head, bewildered. "What happened to you, man? You used to be my friend. Now I don't even know if I want you as a friend anymore."
I looked at Al, hard, seeing, really seeing, for the first time, his cruel hansome features, the way he took in everything as if he only really saw everything for the first time through his eyes. As if before, nothing really existed before he saw it.
Then he turned that gaze at me.
"Sometimes things change."
Things did change.
The tention increased between Harvey, Al and I.
I don't mention Harvey much beacuse he was like and absent father, more wraped up in his affaires than in his squads. Harvey is a used car sales men. No, really, he was once a car sales men. He knows the Game, he knows how to sell a product, mainly himself, but beyond the glitz and glamore he his nothing. As we say in in the Grunt world, "he's all show and no go". The only problem with that is Harvey keeps on showing, and showing, and showing. He is the ultiamate leech. He will rob from his lower enlisted to make himslef look better and never give anything back. And once he's done with you he will throw you under the bus in a heart beat.
For most of the major training operation at Dona Ana Harvey was absent. Either at some school or another, leaving me in charge of the squad. I planned and ran the missions, as the Alpha Team Leader should do when the squad leader is not there. I did my duty. When he was there most of the time the platoon sergeant didn't know where Harvey was. I took squad leader meetings in his absense, drew supplies, signed for equipment, all while Harvey was on the phone with his wife.
In the end he would show up, just when it mattered, just when the CO or 1SGT Storm was around, to say a few words and take all the credit.
If it sounds like I'm bitter, you bet your ass I am. I've waited years to say this.
The devide grew in the squad. Maybe the Soldiers didn't see it, though I bet they did. None of them are dumb.
The way I saw it was I took care of my Fire Team, my boys, and hopefully I could be their for the rest of the squad, meaning Bravo Team. I saw myself as the buffer between the power hungry and nearly sadistic Al and the self agrandizing SSG Harvey. I wouldn't indanger the mission, I would do what I was told, but to a point. If I felt it was morally wrong then I would refuse.
The Chinese have a term for this action, or non action, it's called wu wei. More accuratly it comes from Taoism meaning a non-action, or a perfect equilibrium with Tao, this is a detachment, or refinment.
Wu Wei was the path I followed during the training a Dona Ana, not suprising since I was reading a lot of Taoism during my time there. Maybe that seems stunning, a Soldier reading Tao in the face of combat, of killing and dying, but I believe that reading set me ahead of many Soldiers about to face the factor of their own death. I was ready to die. I knew in my soul that I probably would die in Iraq. I was ready.
The first week in Iraq things came to a head for 2nd Squad. SGT Z had had enough with Al. Since Christmas Leave SGT Z had been telling me about his hatred for SGT Al, and to tell you the truth I had felt his anger. I had tried as much as I could to keep them sperrated, to reduce the tention felt by both, the closer Iraq loomed the harder it became. The month spent in Kuwait, waiting to go North, I bunked next to Z. I was his sounding board for everything. His fears, his anger, his hurt. And I bounced things off him too. It was not all one sided.
Durning training Z had also become friends with SGT Mitz and Agie, that helped a lot too. He had those guys to talk to, not just me.
And to be honest, I was feeling the pressure as well. I had been excluded more and more from Al and Harvey. The people that should have been my peers had rejected me and me them. I turned more and more insular. I stared to guard my hate and rage, to store it for later use. I couldn't really turn to my Team and tell them what I was feeling, how do you tell your me that you have lost confidance in your Squad Leader and his shadow, or Bravo Team Leader?
Shit, I had Bravo Team Soldiers coming to me to talk about their problems with their own Team Leader!
Finally, in Iraq, SGT Z finally admitted that he wanted to kill AL. He was sick of it, sick of the taunting, and the bullshit, and the bullying. Hell, man, whether you bieve it or not, a man does have his limites, inside everyman their is a breaking point, a line he will not cross and after that... only God and that man can awnser. And Z had crossed his.
I'm just glad that hed didn't kill Al.
That's when Agie came into my team. Compitent, steady, cool headed Agie. The man I would become to rely on while I was running Team Mayhem.
It is a failing of mine to not have regonized Agie in all this time. He was the slient partner in all this Hell. His calm voice, his loyality. In the mitz of my hate he was the voice of reason, the man I could depend on. He was aloe vera to my heated sun burn. ( Have tried to think of an apt comparision for Agie, struggled and thought, and this, the latter, is the best I can come up with. He cooled my rage, his voiceand demenor.) We would talk of our wives, of our worries. When I learned that I had been selected to go on R&R with SGT Paris for four days in Quatar I told the Team that I finally had something to live for, Agie told me,"Hey,SGT D, You have lots to live for besides that."
That voice.
What a good man.
Soon after that Team Mayhem was disbanded.
I was moved to weapons squad where I stared my career as a ronin Soldier, though I didn't know it at the time.
Only after 22 June 2005 did it I truly become Ronin.
Masterless.
Fearless.
When I became the best Soldier I could be beacuse I was no longer afraid of Death.
