Trauma Anniversary....Remember those who gave all

Recently, the anniversary of one of my traumatic events from Iraq passed. I had tried, on another blog, to write about this event in some general terms while paying respect to those who's death I felt for a long time to be responsible for. Through some hard, and sometimes painful work in CPT, I was able to let go of a large chunk of that guilt and shame and I felt it was a okay time work more towards honoring those who died. However, that post and a couple of others apparently really angered some people, and I had allowed their responses to get to me so much that I took down the blog. I might write more about this later. However, I think it's more important to actually do the right thing here first, and that is to honor those whom we have lost.
I won't use names or dates, or even places here on this blog. This is both out of respect as well as out of the need for some privacy in my life.

There was a day that seemed like all the other shitty days in Iraq. I had to go to the company area and I made some stops along the way. One of these stops was an area where a lot of other soldiers where. While I was there, I talked to a couple of different soldiers about numerous things. Two of the ones I talked to the longest, they were pretty cool guys. They both had future plans, were tired of being away from their families and were just doing their thing. However, after talking with both of them, I left to go over to the company...a short walk of maybe two minutes. After getting to the company, I stood at the back door and fired up a smoke. After maybe two drags, the hell rained down where i had just been. Those two soldiers, and some others, were killed by some asshole insurgents. For a long time I struggled with the belief that I was directly responsible for their deaths because I had held them up for so long talking. That guilt really ate me up inside and was the second or third worst guilty feeling I have ever struggled with. In any event, my guilt is nothing compared to the price that they had to pay

These soldiers and too many others quite frankly, paid heavy and in this case ultimate prices. They were doing their job and working at supporting their country and their familes. They had dreams and plans and fears and hopes. They may have even had their own guilts that they were trying to work through. The didn't get to live through any of those things. Instead, they died. Killed by some assholes!

They are gone physically but I know that they live on my heart and the hearts of their family and friends. They were Soldiers, sons, a father, a fiance.but most of all they were Americans. May I never forget, may we never forget, these Americans gave their lives.