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thedrifter
09-18-05, 06:40 AM
Norwalk Marines are back after 7-month tour in Iraq
By Christiana Sciaudone
Staff Writer

September 18, 2005

NEW HAVEN -- It was a long time before Nelson Figueroa Jr., let go of his grandmother. Nearby, Alex Horelick swung his 1-year-old nephew in the air.

The lance corporals from Norwalk arrived home Friday with 36 other Marines from the 6th Motor Transport Battalion's 1st Truck Platoon after serving seven months in Iraq. They were without two of their own: one who arrived a day earlier to be by his wife while she was giving birth; and another who lost his legs when the unarmored Humvee he was riding in hit an explosive device one week into their tour of duty, Staff Sgt. Brian Musco said.

In the parking lot of the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps Reserve Center in New Haven, under low gray clouds, mothers, fathers, siblings, friends and children held welcome-home posters, yellow balloons and American flags. Many gathered by 7 a.m.

Figueroa's parents, two sisters and maternal grandmother stared at the entrance gate of the reserve center, watching other families drive in and anxiously awaiting the bus that would bring Macho, as they call him, home.

The Horelick family -- parents, sister and nephew -- stood at the far end of the drive. They knew from experience the buses would drop the men off in the rear of the parking lot.

The men arrived at Camp LeJeune in North Carolina Sept. 9, but Hurricane Ophelia delayed their return home.

On the drive to New Haven, Becky Figueroa, one of Macho's older sisters, thought about how quickly the time had passed. Macho called almost every day, whenever he had the chance. Usually that meant the middle of the night, but it didn't matter. He sent photos and they sent care packages.

At about 8:30 a.m., a police siren wailed announcing the arrival of two buses.

"I'm like shaking right now," said Jaqueline Benitez, Macho's girlfriend.

The gates slid open and the buses pulled in. Macho waved to his family from inside the first bus.

The buses stopped where the Horelicks had expected and family members chased them. The bus doors opened and men in desert camouflage came pouring out, searching for home.

Jo-Annie, Macho's other sister, jumped into her brother's arms and he lifted her off the ground. He put her down and bent over to hold his grandmother, Maria Burgos, for a very long time.

Marie Horelick, Alex's mother, searched the crowd for her son.

And there he was.

"What's up, buddy!" Alex said to his little nephew, who had grown a few inches and a lot of hair since January, and was being held by his mother, April.

The family gathered around Alex. Marie wiped her eyes with a tissue.

"This is a long time coming," said Alex's father, Rit. "A long time."

Meanwhile, Macho, returning from his first tour of duty, and his family took each other in.

"You guys look smaller," he said, and they laughed.

In Iraq, the men drove convoys of trucks. Alex, who along with 24 other Marines was on his second tour in this war, said it was "10,000 times more dangerous" this time than at the start of the war when communications and accommodations were poor.

This time, they had phones and Internet access and air-conditioning. But they also had to deal with land mines and improvised explosive devices, everywhere, all the time.

"Before it was war, now it's an invisible enemy," Alex said.

Their barracks were targeted by mortars, and Alex's bed shook one night when one landed. Alex said he watched at least four land mines explode when he was on the road.

Now that they are home, the men will go through "demobilization," which includes classes on how to deal with post-traumatic stress disorder, First Staff Sgt. William McCoy said.

Alex and his friend, Donnie Huot, who served in Iraq with Alex in 2003, stood outside waiting to be dismissed. Rain started to fall.

"You wanna go inside?" Rit asked.

"Nah," Alex said. "I haven't seen rain in seven months."

He went inside, though, where the Marines returned their M-16 rifles.

Musco called for one last formation. They were in the same gymnasium where, eight months ago, they spent a tearful night saying goodbye to the people now surrounding them. It had been about 2 a.m. when they stood in formation last time as Musco assured the families he would look after them.

This time, Musco quickly rumbled through a few items of business and happily dismissed them. The families erupted in roaring cheers and applause. And then, they went home.

Ellie