Personal Narrative: Forward Operating Base Sharana

The night before my APFT last fall while staying in Army lodging in kind, I woke up almost hourly from the nightmares, unable to breath and feeling as if CPT Hockenberry were choking me again either with his hands or restraining me and guillotine choking me with my kitchen knife. I had a panic attack and began crying in the middle of our office Halloween party when I saw DCPT Hockenberrry’s picture on the center of the ad law department door as part of the holiday decorations. Just seeing dark-haired soldiers with cpt hockenberry’s build on post makes me extremely fearful and anxious to this day. Intrusive thoughts about the violent assaults constantly interrupt my focus. While driving home from Oklahoma City during a thunderstorm, I became

Dear Ms. Porter: Please accept my deepest, heartfelt sympathy on the loss of your son Specialist Patrick E. Boss, who was serving our grateful nation in Iraq. Patrick’s death has taken a son from his mother, a friend from his fellow Soldiers in Iraq, and of course from his other family and friends at home. As you know, Patrick was part of 1-22 Infantry Battalion as our Human Resource Information System Specialist. He was an important part of our unit and many of the young Soldiers looked to him as a source of advice since this was his third deployment. He was quick to offer that advice and to use his experience to help his fellow Soldiers. On March 10, 2010, Patrick was leave for Rest and Recuperation Leave when the convoy he was in was attacked.

Do you remember Lieutenant Carroll? Lieutenant Carroll was the closest to heaven that we will ever get but that night we were in hell. There was an ambush. When an ambush occurs you don’t ever know what will happen. Everything is unexpected and you might make some mistakes. I made plenty mistakes during an ambush. During the ambush I was firing at the enemy trying to kill them and protect our man. Carroll was near me. When I turned around I seen Carroll get hit near the armpit. Me and the men tried to rush to the hospital to Chu Lai but it was too late. Carroll shortly died after arriving.

You should say goodbye to your family and friends that are here” SGT Cooper said as he spotted Lane. SGT Cooper looked him over curiously as he waited for a reply from the soldier he was in charge of. He didn’t know much about the kid other than what was placed in his

Some soldiers still don't feel as connected to home as they want to be. They think about their families and

Years pass, we receive news every time we can, he always reassures us that he will be returning. But i never have to this day forgot the different ring that doorbell had when two officers in uniform stood at my front door. My heart sunk into my abdomen and pulsed a different slow kind of beat. They took off their caps and

It was his last day of training in which the final test was being performed. A sprint was in check in which the soldiers had to finish within an allotted time or be cut off. It was do or die for my father, he knew there wasn't any room for a mistake. With a loud holler from the official, the soldiers, including my father, were off. Faster and faster they went, legs were pumping on, sweaty bodies were full of adrenaline. My father wasn't too far behind, but he knew the dangers of coming in past the time. He took a quick look behind and saw who was in last place so far, one of his good friends, a bit too pudgy but definitely trying his best. My father looked on ahead and saw the rest of his mates, most of them already finished and taking a much needed breather. Although he knew his career was on the line, my father turned around and ran towards his friend, determined to help the last person finish. Neither his superiors nor his teammates knew what was going on as my father slung his friend over his shoulder and carried him to the end. By this time, the superiors caught on to my father’s plan and were beyond enraged. They pulled my father off to the side and demanded to know why my father had gone back to help the last person, to which my father without hesitation told them it was the army way, “leave no brother behind.”

I woke up from my bunk in the barracks, it was old, wooden and looked like it was about to break. I sat up  and looked around, one long hallway of bunks. I looked down the hallway at the entrance, there was a man standing there, it was our sergeant. He looked down the hallway, full of soldiers of all ages. He looked disappointed, I wasn’t sure why.

His name was Chin Vass. He was a giant man. Balding on top but his muscles had not faded. He wore cargo pants and a red vest. He had a gun strapped over his shoulder and boots up to his knee caps. His face. I’ll never forget his face. He had black eyes. Back ashes smudged around them to show the world his morality. He had a stretch of hair round his head and a stubbly beard. He looked like he enjoyed his job a lot. I remember saying something to him before he went to work. Something that my father had told me. My moral code. I knew it wouldn’t change anything but I could only hope it would discourage him show him I have faith in my battalion. Show him I knew they would get me out somehow. I told him

Deployment is something you can never mentally prepare yourself for no matter how countless number of times you have deployed. It was October 2011 in Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan, my name was called and my heart dropped to my stomach as I grabbed a hold of my rucksack, a green duffle bag, and my weapon. I couldn’t have weighed more than 120 pounds carrying about 130 pounds of gear. A 15-minute helicopter ride seemed like days for me. As we landed I recognized some of my coworkers waiting for us as they helped me bring my baggage to where I would be living at for the next 12 months. It was a 10 person living tent with 10 bunk

As David and I slowly approach the final bunker, we found it too quiet as we cautiously enter. By surprise there was 1 kraut left and jabbed David in the stomach with a bayonet before pulling it out and waving it around trying to stab me, as he goes for a stab I thought I was going to get a bayonet to the face but luckily, I grabbed the side of the barrel of the gun trying to force the bayonet into him. We struggle for control of the gun while David is dying an agonising death, he makes a mistake trying to kick me leading to him to his demise as I put more strength in pushing tripping him over and ultimately stabbing in the chest. I grab David by the waist and put him on my shoulder as I rush to the nearest medical station, at arrival we were

And now that the war is over companies aren’t getting as much money from the military so they are upping the taxes and costs of things. With Roland gone and the war ending it is so horrible. I have started to wonder, “Should I move?, Should I get a new job?, Do I take the kids out of education?”, just things like that. As these thoughts are going through my head, I heard a knock on the door. I thought it would be my kids coming home from school, so I didn’t answer. But they just kept on knocking. I thought “Oh my lord, what could it be?”. I didn’t even want to get up from crocheting a blanket for Mattie. Pretty soon an officer just left a note outside the door. As soon as I heard the vehicle drive away, I opened the letter and it read “Dear Mrs Richardson, Your husband Roland was found at a camp. He is alive, not well, but alive. We lost records of your husband but we found him. We noticed another man took off Mr. Richardson’s dog tag and shoes for his own life. That man is dead. Your husband is currently in a Hospital in Eastern Long Island. Meet at the Force office for more information…”

On the flight from Boise, Idaho to Syracuse, New York I kept thinking to myself, “This is just a new chapter. This is just a new chapter in my life.” I was on my way to my next duty assignment, the 10th Mountain Division stationed at Fort Drum, New York. I was filled with dread from all the bad things people said about this duty station like, “Be ready for the 8 month winters” and “Get ready to deploy a lot.” It was a very scary time for me. I was told these comments when I was at my last duty station in Okinawa, Japan. I thought about them the entire time from the moment I got my orders to the moment I hopped on that plane to get there. After finding my seat, I was hit with the full idea of what I was about to experience.

We radioed over to our commander that the kid had been By the end of the sweep, we had cleared out at least 30 terrorists with only one . Finally we decide to plant the bomb defuser. There must have been some more terrorists nearby in another building because almost right after we set the defuser down, we heard a crash as they broke through the front door. We have a clear shot at the stair case, but right as we saw the top of the first person, we see a small, round object fly from downstairs and right into the middle of the room. "Grenade!" I yell and we all jump behind any object large enough to hide behind. "Boom!" I pop out of cover and all I can see is the new hole in the floor and a lot of smoke from the grenade. Out of the smoke come at least ten shadowy figures. Then flashes and bullets whizzing by my head. My first instinct is to return fire but that is a bad mistake. I take a bullet in my left bicep. I scream and collapse. This isn't the first time I have been shot but you can never get used to that. I decide that there is no time to waste and that I needed to fight through the pain. It hurt to even move my arm but I deal with it. I pop back out of cover and I see that there are only two terrorists left in the room and they are to occupied by my other teammates so I pick them off easily. Just as the silence settles in I hear a ding. The defuser is finally done and the mission is done finally. We head back outside for debrief and to go get

It was early in the morning and the sun had already rose. SgtMaj and I exchanged stories about our lives, he told me about his time in the Marines and the hardships of his childhood. I sat and listened in awe, everything he said was interesting and I was on the edge of my seat listening to his stories. Some stories made me laugh, however some made me want to cry. I told SgtMaj how I was afraid I couldn’t survive the camp, but SgtMaj reassured me as he always did. He reminded me of how hard I worked and how much weight I lost, an told me he knew I could do