thedrifter
07-10-08, 07:29 AM
Stories from Iraq
Crimson Conversations
By: Corbin Martin
Posted: 7/10/08
"You should be able to get a full night's sleep tonight."
The dirt-covered Marine standing in front of me may not have realized it, but he had just said the most beautiful words I'd ever heard. One of the biggest lessons Iraq had taught me during the first week of the invasion was how valuable a commodity sleep truly is.
My sleeping bag was a pain to unpack, so like most Marines I simply laid down on that hot desert using my gasmask as a pillow. As my eyes closed, the weight of the days before and noise from the constant combat in the city of An Nasiriyah, a mile up the road, seemed to fade into a cool calm peace. I could feel myself falling faster and faster into what promised to be the best sleep of my short life.
Then … bang! A green tracer round, a bullet that glows so you can trace its path, zipped over my resting head. My dreams would have to wait.
Five years later, I can still remember the feel of the dirt that night and hear the crack that first bullet made as it was fired at my position. Vivid memories like that make it difficult to think about the war in Iraq as just another political issue. The war is still deeply personal for me, as I am sure it is for many veterans and their families. I would do a great disservice to my readership as well as my listening audience if I did not share my views on the war and the issues that surround it, but I always hope to do so in such a way as to make it clear that I have nothing but the utmost respect for those that have chewed the same dirt.
In that spirit, Crimson Conversations takes a close look at the future of Iraq this week. This is an issue very close to my heart. On another hot day in An Nasiriyah, my best friend Jessie and I discussed this very subject.
We spent the entire day digging a fighting hole - soldiers call them foxholes. Jessie always wanted to make sure that ours was the most "pimped out," in case you were wondering why it took all day. Sometime between installing a wood bench and a dinner table, we started talking about what we would tell our grandkids about the war. I hoped that it would be seen as noble, and that Iraq would be free and know what it means to prosper.
Jessie always said fighting in the war was just a job. He is the type of person that makes even the most incredible act seem common place. He is my hero.
All these years later, I think my hopes for Iraq's future may come true. This week Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki and other Iraqi officials have called for the United States to set a timetable for withdrawal. Surely this is the victory we have been waiting for. The Iraqi people want their country back. They are ardently saying they are ready to handle their own problems. We should let them. There would be a great celebration not just in Iraq, but worldwide.
Talking with Jessie that day, I never hoped for a "strong ally in the war on terror." I hoped for an Iraq where people could go to work, school, or anywhere else they desire with out the fear of brutal attack. An Iraq at peace with its neighbors, not helping us fight them. An Iraq that would finally know that cool, calm peace and rest.
Corbin Martin is a senior majoring in political science. Crimson Conversations airs Monday nights from 6 to 7 on WVUA-FM 90.7 The Capstone. Call the show at 348-9070.
Ellie
Crimson Conversations
By: Corbin Martin
Posted: 7/10/08
"You should be able to get a full night's sleep tonight."
The dirt-covered Marine standing in front of me may not have realized it, but he had just said the most beautiful words I'd ever heard. One of the biggest lessons Iraq had taught me during the first week of the invasion was how valuable a commodity sleep truly is.
My sleeping bag was a pain to unpack, so like most Marines I simply laid down on that hot desert using my gasmask as a pillow. As my eyes closed, the weight of the days before and noise from the constant combat in the city of An Nasiriyah, a mile up the road, seemed to fade into a cool calm peace. I could feel myself falling faster and faster into what promised to be the best sleep of my short life.
Then … bang! A green tracer round, a bullet that glows so you can trace its path, zipped over my resting head. My dreams would have to wait.
Five years later, I can still remember the feel of the dirt that night and hear the crack that first bullet made as it was fired at my position. Vivid memories like that make it difficult to think about the war in Iraq as just another political issue. The war is still deeply personal for me, as I am sure it is for many veterans and their families. I would do a great disservice to my readership as well as my listening audience if I did not share my views on the war and the issues that surround it, but I always hope to do so in such a way as to make it clear that I have nothing but the utmost respect for those that have chewed the same dirt.
In that spirit, Crimson Conversations takes a close look at the future of Iraq this week. This is an issue very close to my heart. On another hot day in An Nasiriyah, my best friend Jessie and I discussed this very subject.
We spent the entire day digging a fighting hole - soldiers call them foxholes. Jessie always wanted to make sure that ours was the most "pimped out," in case you were wondering why it took all day. Sometime between installing a wood bench and a dinner table, we started talking about what we would tell our grandkids about the war. I hoped that it would be seen as noble, and that Iraq would be free and know what it means to prosper.
Jessie always said fighting in the war was just a job. He is the type of person that makes even the most incredible act seem common place. He is my hero.
All these years later, I think my hopes for Iraq's future may come true. This week Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki and other Iraqi officials have called for the United States to set a timetable for withdrawal. Surely this is the victory we have been waiting for. The Iraqi people want their country back. They are ardently saying they are ready to handle their own problems. We should let them. There would be a great celebration not just in Iraq, but worldwide.
Talking with Jessie that day, I never hoped for a "strong ally in the war on terror." I hoped for an Iraq where people could go to work, school, or anywhere else they desire with out the fear of brutal attack. An Iraq at peace with its neighbors, not helping us fight them. An Iraq that would finally know that cool, calm peace and rest.
Corbin Martin is a senior majoring in political science. Crimson Conversations airs Monday nights from 6 to 7 on WVUA-FM 90.7 The Capstone. Call the show at 348-9070.
Ellie