Post by Naijinaxx on Dec 29, 2008 0:56:21 GMT -5
This is a little something I wrote depicting my action in Iraq. This is a TRUE story. Everything taking place in this little piece was written memories of my action. Things I've done, things that I regret doing. Feel free to read, but remember, it's not pretty.
War Changes Us
Dear Lord,
On this battlefield, I write to you now.
Knowing that we've never met face to face, I came to say hello
Here I stand, with my rifle, tears of months long pain, pouring down my soul
I hurt, and I ach, my feet are covered in sores, yet, here I stand, Specialist Eriksen, assigned to the 565th Combat Engineering Corps.
My rifle is loaded, and it is ready, it has seen it's fair share of death, myself as well.
People in the country, take everything for granted, they fail to understand, what it is we're trying to do.
Protecting a reporter, who is to tell our story, watching the bombs go off, at the night of our glory.
They say war isn't pretty, -That I know, but when the streets run with blood, and the bodies are strewn about the streets, I confirm what I read.
Sitting in a defense, my rifle against my shoulder, night vision lighting my path, searching for the enemy. I breath, I shake. A round chambered, ready for the trigger. My sergeant tells me that we're in it hot, that tomorrow, we take that hill, that tomorrow, we're going to kill.
Being an engineer, I know my part, hefting that rocket launcher, I'll do my part.
We take to the vehicles, we're oscar-mike, weapons cocked, eyes locked. Here we are, no older than twenty-five, all serving for our country, while others think they have a life. Knowing that my friends are still there, knowing that they're safe, while I'm out here, taking a life.
We take fire, bullets are whining. I look to the left, to see my friends crying. We return fire, our guns ablaze, I watched the enemy run, only for him to die.
I look around, at the faces of war itself. The Iraqi mothers, their children misunderstood. Holding eachother's hands, walking in the blazing hot street, while we sit in our vehicles, waiting for something to happen.
We can't give them a ride, and we can't give them weapons, all we can do is watch, watch and wait.
I give a child an MRE, in the hopes that it will help his hunger, but little do I know, that this child will not make it. They say hope brings up more, that terror changes us. All I know is, that I'm no longer the person that I used to be. I've changed. This war changes. And as they continue to say, war changes us into beasts.
I run through the streets, bullets are hissing, my buddies are taking cover, preparing to deal a beating.
We stack up, our weapons loaded, there I am, furious on my beloved.
We round that corner, we open fire, I watch as insurgents take cover, and we watch them cower.
I'm not going to say that we did everything by the book, but as they continue to say, that war changes us all, I will support.
One by one, I watched the enemy die, we continued to fire, pinned down on all sides.
My vehicle burns, my weapon jams, I pull my side arm, when my friend dives.
Explosions all around, stunned and adaze, here I am, committing the sins of the ungazed.
Their blood is on my hands, and I fire more rounds, half my equipment on the burning vehicle, no longer to be found.
Covered in sweat, my head bleeds, the sun is bright, as smoke billows above. I yank back the charging handle on my M-4, once more, I'm in this war. A routine security mission, that's what we were given, but we tend to forget, that we're also in a war.
Rounds fly over head, and my friends cry, -"Get the **** up!" -My sergeant cries.
I stood, weapon shouldered, controling my breath, I centered my sites.
Watching the enemy's head bob, watching it still, I held my breath, and watched the kill.
I took my first confirmed kill, and to this day I regret. But as a combat engineer, I did my job.
I look around, I feel no pity. These people starve, everything they loved and liked gone. And still I feel no pity.
They say this war is lost, and that everything we've accomplished will be done in vane. And yet, we show no shame.
I'm an american soldier, an engineer. I don't give a darn about you, because you most likely don't give a darn about me.
I'm solid, I'm steady, I'm cold down to the core. I've seen more combat, than most ever will.
I gained and lost friends, I've watched people die. I've seen the fires rise, I've seen the bombs pummel the sky.
I asked for courage. I ask for courage to face and conquer my own fears. To take me where others will not go.
I asked you to open my eyes, so that I may see the hidden dangers my path conceals.
I ask you to speak to my enemy, so that one day, we may shake hands.
I asked for you to examine my heart, to rid me of all weaknesses.
I asked you for strength, and strength you gave me.
But here I am, dirty, grungy, tired, and ill. My head bleeding, my ankles sore. My weapon is at my shoulder, my breath is heavy, Waiting for that helicopter, the wait of hell.
I can hear the chopper's hovering... their hovering over head. They've come to get the wounded... they've come to get the dead.
I used to be a writer. One who wanted to be an author. But here I am, serving on our front lines.
I've cleared mine fields, I've blown down doors, I've cleared rooms, like never before. I've seen people die, I watched as my friends faught. You may call me a liar, but only I know what I saw.
You can look at my eyes, and see the beast that dwells within, this dog cries for hunger, it cries for the fight which dwells within.
I am an American Soldier, sworn to defend the US Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
I am a guardian of freedom, and the American way of life.
I am sworn to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States,
I look back on my successes, and my failiurs, knowing that had I performed differently, knowing that if my fear hadn't took ahold, that perhaps my friends would still be alive.
Four six months, I served, a tour cut short, a tour that was supposed to be a year. My leg is permanently damaged, I know that for certain, medically discharged from the army, here I stand.
I know I'll never change, I still cry myself to sleep. I hold onto my dogs, a gun in my hand. Sometimes I feel that I'm still there, sometimes I shake at night, holding a .45 in my right, I wait, for that ever determined enemy, to show up in the night, to take the life of me, to take the life of my friends, to claim those whom I've loved, to take everything I ever had.
My name is Specialist Eriksen, and I stand here before you, I am a regular person, just like you. I served my country, I won my fight, but then again, I'm still afraid of the night.
I live alone, I cry alone. You can never understand what I've seen, things that I've done. I don't expect you to, I never did. But that fact remains, that war changes us all. It will make you emotional, it will make you cry. But even worse, it molds you. -It changes you, and you have no choice. To accept the hands of god, in it's place.
I've watched a friend die, dying in my arms, he screams and he hollers, I've no choice but to cry. I hold him tight, he bleeds from his leg, I try to get an IV, only he continues to cry.
I went ot his funeral, dressed in my class A, wearing those ranks, Remembering that day, a day that I thought I would die.
I salute the colors, watching our flag fly, as his wife and child sit there, wondering how he died. The drums beat, and the guns go off. The cascat lowers, the flag presented to them.
"On behalf of a greatful nation, and the US Army, I hear by present to you the American Flag for your loved one's most faithful, and loyal service." The detail states, his wife nods, his child shakes.
I render the salute, one given since 1775, the birth of the army, the birth of my savage will. My face is shaven, my hair is groomed. This world will never know of the sins, that I alone, have in turn, committed.
It's happened to me, and I wont' lie. I've seen people fight, and I've seen people die. War has changed me, and it wasn't for the greater good. I went on a rampage, and I'm paying for it for good. War changes... it changed me. It transformed me...
-Changing me into a beast.
War Changes Us
Dear Lord,
On this battlefield, I write to you now.
Knowing that we've never met face to face, I came to say hello
Here I stand, with my rifle, tears of months long pain, pouring down my soul
I hurt, and I ach, my feet are covered in sores, yet, here I stand, Specialist Eriksen, assigned to the 565th Combat Engineering Corps.
My rifle is loaded, and it is ready, it has seen it's fair share of death, myself as well.
People in the country, take everything for granted, they fail to understand, what it is we're trying to do.
Protecting a reporter, who is to tell our story, watching the bombs go off, at the night of our glory.
They say war isn't pretty, -That I know, but when the streets run with blood, and the bodies are strewn about the streets, I confirm what I read.
Sitting in a defense, my rifle against my shoulder, night vision lighting my path, searching for the enemy. I breath, I shake. A round chambered, ready for the trigger. My sergeant tells me that we're in it hot, that tomorrow, we take that hill, that tomorrow, we're going to kill.
Being an engineer, I know my part, hefting that rocket launcher, I'll do my part.
We take to the vehicles, we're oscar-mike, weapons cocked, eyes locked. Here we are, no older than twenty-five, all serving for our country, while others think they have a life. Knowing that my friends are still there, knowing that they're safe, while I'm out here, taking a life.
We take fire, bullets are whining. I look to the left, to see my friends crying. We return fire, our guns ablaze, I watched the enemy run, only for him to die.
I look around, at the faces of war itself. The Iraqi mothers, their children misunderstood. Holding eachother's hands, walking in the blazing hot street, while we sit in our vehicles, waiting for something to happen.
We can't give them a ride, and we can't give them weapons, all we can do is watch, watch and wait.
I give a child an MRE, in the hopes that it will help his hunger, but little do I know, that this child will not make it. They say hope brings up more, that terror changes us. All I know is, that I'm no longer the person that I used to be. I've changed. This war changes. And as they continue to say, war changes us into beasts.
I run through the streets, bullets are hissing, my buddies are taking cover, preparing to deal a beating.
We stack up, our weapons loaded, there I am, furious on my beloved.
We round that corner, we open fire, I watch as insurgents take cover, and we watch them cower.
I'm not going to say that we did everything by the book, but as they continue to say, that war changes us all, I will support.
One by one, I watched the enemy die, we continued to fire, pinned down on all sides.
My vehicle burns, my weapon jams, I pull my side arm, when my friend dives.
Explosions all around, stunned and adaze, here I am, committing the sins of the ungazed.
Their blood is on my hands, and I fire more rounds, half my equipment on the burning vehicle, no longer to be found.
Covered in sweat, my head bleeds, the sun is bright, as smoke billows above. I yank back the charging handle on my M-4, once more, I'm in this war. A routine security mission, that's what we were given, but we tend to forget, that we're also in a war.
Rounds fly over head, and my friends cry, -"Get the **** up!" -My sergeant cries.
I stood, weapon shouldered, controling my breath, I centered my sites.
Watching the enemy's head bob, watching it still, I held my breath, and watched the kill.
I took my first confirmed kill, and to this day I regret. But as a combat engineer, I did my job.
I look around, I feel no pity. These people starve, everything they loved and liked gone. And still I feel no pity.
They say this war is lost, and that everything we've accomplished will be done in vane. And yet, we show no shame.
I'm an american soldier, an engineer. I don't give a darn about you, because you most likely don't give a darn about me.
I'm solid, I'm steady, I'm cold down to the core. I've seen more combat, than most ever will.
I gained and lost friends, I've watched people die. I've seen the fires rise, I've seen the bombs pummel the sky.
I asked for courage. I ask for courage to face and conquer my own fears. To take me where others will not go.
I asked you to open my eyes, so that I may see the hidden dangers my path conceals.
I ask you to speak to my enemy, so that one day, we may shake hands.
I asked for you to examine my heart, to rid me of all weaknesses.
I asked you for strength, and strength you gave me.
But here I am, dirty, grungy, tired, and ill. My head bleeding, my ankles sore. My weapon is at my shoulder, my breath is heavy, Waiting for that helicopter, the wait of hell.
I can hear the chopper's hovering... their hovering over head. They've come to get the wounded... they've come to get the dead.
I used to be a writer. One who wanted to be an author. But here I am, serving on our front lines.
I've cleared mine fields, I've blown down doors, I've cleared rooms, like never before. I've seen people die, I watched as my friends faught. You may call me a liar, but only I know what I saw.
You can look at my eyes, and see the beast that dwells within, this dog cries for hunger, it cries for the fight which dwells within.
I am an American Soldier, sworn to defend the US Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
I am a guardian of freedom, and the American way of life.
I am sworn to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States,
I look back on my successes, and my failiurs, knowing that had I performed differently, knowing that if my fear hadn't took ahold, that perhaps my friends would still be alive.
Four six months, I served, a tour cut short, a tour that was supposed to be a year. My leg is permanently damaged, I know that for certain, medically discharged from the army, here I stand.
I know I'll never change, I still cry myself to sleep. I hold onto my dogs, a gun in my hand. Sometimes I feel that I'm still there, sometimes I shake at night, holding a .45 in my right, I wait, for that ever determined enemy, to show up in the night, to take the life of me, to take the life of my friends, to claim those whom I've loved, to take everything I ever had.
My name is Specialist Eriksen, and I stand here before you, I am a regular person, just like you. I served my country, I won my fight, but then again, I'm still afraid of the night.
I live alone, I cry alone. You can never understand what I've seen, things that I've done. I don't expect you to, I never did. But that fact remains, that war changes us all. It will make you emotional, it will make you cry. But even worse, it molds you. -It changes you, and you have no choice. To accept the hands of god, in it's place.
I've watched a friend die, dying in my arms, he screams and he hollers, I've no choice but to cry. I hold him tight, he bleeds from his leg, I try to get an IV, only he continues to cry.
I went ot his funeral, dressed in my class A, wearing those ranks, Remembering that day, a day that I thought I would die.
I salute the colors, watching our flag fly, as his wife and child sit there, wondering how he died. The drums beat, and the guns go off. The cascat lowers, the flag presented to them.
"On behalf of a greatful nation, and the US Army, I hear by present to you the American Flag for your loved one's most faithful, and loyal service." The detail states, his wife nods, his child shakes.
I render the salute, one given since 1775, the birth of the army, the birth of my savage will. My face is shaven, my hair is groomed. This world will never know of the sins, that I alone, have in turn, committed.
It's happened to me, and I wont' lie. I've seen people fight, and I've seen people die. War has changed me, and it wasn't for the greater good. I went on a rampage, and I'm paying for it for good. War changes... it changed me. It transformed me...
-Changing me into a beast.