I wanted to post this back on the 11th, but I'm running a little behind... I'm sure that comes as no surprise to anyone! This is a 9/11 post that was written by a friend and fellow EOD operator of Jason's late brother Tony. He wrote it back in 2004 during his first deployment to Iraq. He was deployed there again a few months back - the same time as Tony.
Well here we are again. 9/11. Three years ago the world turned upside down and was forever changed. So much of the world now has righted itself and sailed on. The rest of us are now left to sink or swim in the sea of memories and consequential fallout of the decisions, both good and bad, following the attacks. Friends of mine died that day, many "just doing their job". Many more have died in pursuit of those responsible for the attacks, also "just doing their job". The first casualties of this war were glorified, deified it seemed in some cases. But lately the world that sailed on after 9/11 have seen fit to trivialize the sacrifices of those who carry the torch of freedom on in memory of those who went before. These people see numbers. A nice round one was reached this week in the 1000th death of a service member during operations to free the Iraqi people. These people do their math, and the equation for them equals zero. The sacrifice means nothing except another proof of an ill-gotten venture into another country. These people think that all we have brought to Iraq and Afghanistan is death and destruction. They think the military is going on a rampage through the streets of Iraq. They think that nothing good can come of what goes on.
What is not seen, what is not heard is the light being shed throughout the countries. What is not seen is the opening of power plants, the construction of oil pipelines, the restoration of water treatment and sewage plants, the paving of roads, the building of schools and other public service buildings. What is not seen or heard is the breaking up of the dam across the Euphrates River, bringing water and life to southern Iraq, which had been starved and squeezed into a wasteland by Saddam Hussein. What is not seen are the bonds developed by Americans and Iraqis. The billions of dollars poured into the Iraqi economy by American construction projects hiring Iraqi nationals as workers. What is not reported is the nutritious food given 3 times a day to the workers, the cool water provided, the clothes, the pay for work, and the friendship that bridges the two very different cultures. No one will see us teaching the Iraqi nationals how to run a slant route, or play ultimate Frisbee. No one will see us giving coloring books to the men to take home to their kids. No one will hear us singing '80's songs together after work and laughing hysterically together as the Iraqis try to teach us their songs.
What people see instead is the ignorance of a precious few. Those who blindly and blithely follow the teachings of their chosen cleric. Those who only see the tree, and not the forest of good. Those who bomb the pipeline. Not thinking that it is the lifeblood of their country, but thinking only that it was funded by American "blood money". Those who riot against "occupation", not thinking of the billions of dollars contributed for the support of the reconstruction efforts. Those who need someone, a mere man, to tell them that it is indeed bad to kidnap and murder innocent people. These are the people in the news. These are the minority who scream out and unfortunately are heard.
As every day passes, I grow more and more afraid that, like in Vietnam, every battle will be won, but the war will be lost. I am afraid that, because people don't understand, the job will never be completed. It took decades to rebuild Europe after WW2, and that was after we broke the spirits of the people so completely they were forced to accept our help. It will likewise take years to rebuild the country of Iraq.
As I reflect on that Indian summer day which turned into the darkest day in my life, and the many who have sprinkled their blood on the altar of freedom, I wonder if the culture I so love is working against me. I wonder if the "forget it, drive on" mentality has finally turned against us. I wonder if the ADD/ADHD generation has moved on to the next "big thing", the next craze. I don't want them too. I don't want them to forget the horror and pain, but they already have started. It is a struggle now to explain to people why the day is so personal. Why the attacks were so personal. One person even asked "Why do we have ceremonies on days like this?" I didn't really know what to say except, "Would you rather forget?"
NEVER FORGET. NEVER FORGOTTEN.
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