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10,000 Miles and a Memory Away |
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Written by JD Johannes
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Tuesday, 06 February 2007 |
The deep brown tans and sunburns have faded. The brown cammies have been traded for forest green. The temperature was exactly 100 degrees less.
Yet the brotherhood remains.
I am sure I was violating some regulation when I stepped inside the gates of the armory at the Marine Corps Reserve station in Belton, Mo. this weekend, but anyone who thought of stopping me quickly changed their mind when Steak gave me a rib-crushing bear hug.
They had been at the range in the morning and were cleaning their rifles in the biting cold.
As much as it was unusual to see them pale faced and in green, the rifles looked pedestrian without Acog sights, Surefire lights, lasers and the myriad of other attachements so common in Iraq.
Almost two years have passed since I flew with them to Iraq.
The teenagers who became men in a hurry have grown into themselves. Many of the elders have moved on to a purely civillian life or other units.
Only a handful of the Reserve Marines of Silver Platoon still remain.
The thousand meter stares have given way to eyes used to stop lights, pristine shopping centers and office parks with manicured lawns, but just below the surface the memories are crystal clear.
Their memories of Iraq have a texture interwoven with the smells of a village, subtle sounds in the aftermath of a fight and the personalities of their brothers. Mine have been permanently distorted by watching them on video tape.
Moving pictures with sound is a powerful medium, but it cannot capture everything the senses percieve or express the depth of the bond between men who have shared the experience of combat and the charcter of men who willing fight for others.
Memories...memories that are only humerous to those of who were there, the running inside jokes, the acts of stupidity and bravery and so many of them unavailble to a flourite lens.
Being with them brought back those memories good and bad.
Seeing them and hearing where their lives are now--married, new business venture, grad school, Officer Candidate School--reminds me of the simple line at the start of the movie:
"Look at these guys, they don't look like much, do they..."
But they are so much more than I have the ability to capture on tape.
And today, on this random Tuesday, they are living their lives on campus, at the business they own or the place they punch the clock--their coworkers and peers only vaugly aware that they are different from the average man.
But the awareness is acute for me because I saw them in a place 10,000 miles away from the stop lights, pristine shopping centers and office parks--and the memories are with me every day.
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