Late 2005 I was assigned to 2-35 Infantry Regiment, 25th Infantry Division, Schofield Barracks, HI. I re-enlisted into the Army after almost a three year break in service. On my previous enlistment, I served in the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment from the 82nd Airborne Division. All the new soldiers to include myself were standing in formation waiting on the Battalion Command Sergeant Major (CSM) to speak to us. I was the only Private First Class with a Combat Infantryman Badge, an Expert Infantryman Badge, and a combat deployment to Afghanistan.
It was December 1st. My first day in the colonial army, it was horrible all i saw was snow and dead bodies the scene made me shake in the soles of my shoes. The estimated amount of people dead so far was about 1,800 to 2,500. It was absolutely freezing and i wanted to go home, i was confused and couldn’t think straight. Men were dropping like flies and the stench of death was all too real.
Pop! Pop! Zoom! Whiz! I heard them and I heard them loud.
I've attended the ball numerous times some while on active duty, at times with dates, at times with friends, but today it is with someone special. Today, November 10th, is the 240th Birthday of the United States Marine Corps (USMC), and I am anxious. I've been planning this for weeks, and two days ago I visited my favorite spa at Nordstroms in preparations for today. I had a full body depilation, and a body wrap as well. This morning I returned for a french manicure/pedicure, and deep tissue massage.
A War on Three Fronts A flash of light shines in through my eyelids and burns my cornea. Muffled barrages and blasts sound through the silent ringing that overwhelms my eardrums. My eyes peel open and I turn my sore neck from side to side, as the blinding whiteness of everything presents me with the world in three. As the contrast in my pupils returns and the pestilence in my ears subsides, the Earth shaking sounds of bombs and bullets parade through my chest.
Growing up in Iraq in the era between the gulf war, Iran war, and Iraq war with the United state was a challenge for me, but it was not harder challenge than all what my parents went through to keep me and my siblings safe and sound. My mother is one of the strongest people that I have came cross in my life. She was and still the best mother, teacher, and my best friend. She graduated from Al Mosul University in Iraq as a Mechanical Engineer. Being a daughter of graduated mother will always push me to complete my education and go even further to earn my master degree too.
It took 250$ and good deeds to create some doctor like me. Growing up I was the kid who looked at the world with open optimistic eyes. I grew up in a small city called Dora located in Iraq, the middle of three girls. I was born in the late 90s, I have been told that I was born "at the end of the good days". That's when Iraq's political circumstances were not at peace at all, at 2003 another war broke in Iraq.
The book “A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier” is an autobiography about a boy named Ishmael who went through so much at a young age. This book should be read because it’s a story you could relate to and give you a perspective of how society is today than it was before and how it has affected people across the world. On the (front cover of the book) Carolyn See from the Washington Post says “Everyone in the world should read this book… We should read It to learn about the world and about what it means to be human.” She’s right, reading this book will provide you with facts you never known and could change the way you see things today.
I believe in the act of paying it forward, and treating others the way you want to be treated in the midst of it. Ever since I was a little girl, I always had a heart to help anyone that I was able to. I hated seeing others down, making it seem as if I was higher than them when I had nothing. I believed that if I was in their shoes, I would want someone to help me. Seeing homeless people on the side of the streets sad, hungry, desperate for just a bite of a sandwich or even a couple dollars to get them by for the next few days, made me realize how much I want to help people who are in need.
Life at Valley Forge Brave, have no fear of someone or something. American soldiers represent bravery. The huts of the soldiers were very long and wide. The fireplace was in acceptable condition. No beds in the huts just straw and mud.
The transition from childhood to adulthood occurs when an individual is able to recognize the impact he or she can leave upon their community, gaining life skills doing so. An accomplishment that marked my transition from childhood to adulthood, would be best demonstrated by the process and completion of a leadership responsibility when I performed my Eagle Scout Project. I joined the scouting program when I was very young, and have been very active since ever. Becoming an Eagle Scout has many challenges that a young Boy Scout must undertake, including the completion of a community-based project, which is an important step in obtaining this notable rank. The Eagle Scout Project is designed for the scout to learn different leadership responsibilities.
From the moment I was born I was considered a military brat, I was born in Hawaii at tripler hospital because my mom was in the army and stationed there, my biological father was in the marines. When my mom remarried when I was 7, she married a man who was in the Navy. Everyone thinks being a Military brat just means you know more than other people because you 've been more places and seen more things and you get a lot of stuff you want. This is not true at all. Coming from a military background means you never have stability, you are held to a higher standard than all the other kids, and sometimes it makes you want to be in the military and only focus on that.
Do you remember a few months ago, that night where the whole family was sitting down for Easter dinner and I burst in? Do you remember my shaky fingers and my eyes that scanned the room over and over again nervously as I explained that I was to leave for war? I remember your face, the tears, the words, everything. Mom, you told me not to go, that in war there were no winners and that war would change my life. I was so against these words that I haven't talked to you since, but I want you to know that those words echoed through my head in the cold and sleepless nights and frightening days at war whether I wanted them to or not.
Well, I’ll start my story off the day I returned from Afghanistan in July 2013. The moment I stepped off the plane I knew that those longs days and nights in Afghanistan were finally over and I could relax again. Thats exactly what I tried to do for the next month or so but I was still having trouble.
It doesn’t get easier. It won’t get easier. It’s been 12 years since he passed yet despite everything it still aches just as it did the second I found out. I wish I could go back in time to that morning.
