She had two perfect daughters and I couldn’t have asked for more in a family. That’s when I decided to move to Arizona. I’ve tried to attend college but was not able to due to my head injury. I did not understand what I was going through. After the service, I jumped from job to job trying to find my new normal. My only blessing and pride I had at the time was my son. Unfortunately, when I first got back, I didn’t realize how my trauma and PTSD effected my everyday life. I decided to get out of the Corps and move back to New Jersey, where she had my beautiful son. After deployment, the woman I was seeing at the time got pregnant. My heart still aches for the lost ones every single day. They are my brothers and truly are my family. I love every one of the men I served with. The Iraqis continued to set up many more IED’s. Even after we cleared the city and let the civilians come back in. I remember at the end of this gruesome day when all the emotions finally hit me. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was help carry my fellow warrior to the Humvee. When the Iraqi’s threw the grenade, he was hit with a piece of a shrapnel in the head. When he got hit and fell, they kept shooting him in the legs to draw us closer. He must have been shot over thirty times. My fire team came off the roof and ran over to help clear the building. After that, I no longer heard my brother screaming for help and calling to his mother. Over and over and over again until I heard another smaller explosion - this time from a grenade. I remember hearing a brother screaming in pain for his mom. I will NEVER forget the sounds I heard next. My team ran to the rooftop to give them cover fire. We heard a gunshot that led into an explosion. We were across the street from the other fire team. The same day my squad was split into two groups. We were under so much fire that we couldn’t stop for even a moment to grieve. I witnessed with my own eyes him going down. He was killed the same day that he received the news of his son being born. I lost one of my best friends during this time. We lost some of the best Marines during this operation. My brothers and I went building to building, door to door, cleaning the whole city. For a little over a month straight, every single day we received fire, encountered IED’s, and were recipients of unending mortar attacks. When we finally invaded, we were met with a vicious and punishing fight: the Iraqis were hanging out of windows, doors, walking down the street, and were ready for war. The civilians emptied out with cars lining up for miles, leaving behind those individuals who wanted to fight. For about a week prior to heading in, we began announcing through a big PA system, warning the civilians that if they didn’t evacuate, that we would consider them hostile forces. However, our unit firmly decided that we were going to take the city of Fallujah. This was because they were doing patrols into the city every day which made them vulnerable to being ambushed. When my brothers and I got there, the unit we were replacing had been taking mass casualties. Fallujah was, and still is, hell on earth. But speaking more into my second tour, which was in the 2004 to 2005 timeframe, I was sent to Fallujah, in an undertaking known as Operation Phantom Fury. I don’t know if this is because my second tour was that much more intense, or if it is because I never was able to sit down to reflect and process what I’ve been through and saw. Back then, and sometimes to this day, I have the tendency to skim right over the experience as if it were no big deal. It was the first time I had ever seen combat. Looking back now and writing my story, I realize what a huge impact that first tour had on my life. We came back stateside for additional training for our return to Iraq.
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