"Why I Celebrate April 9th"

     The daylight sun is coming across the horizon over the once abandoned Iraqi airbase.  Opening my eyes and now smelling the early morning stench of oil, sweat and dirt. The sound of footsteps going up and down the aisle. Grunts and groans are being heard and disturbing those from their slumber. There are voices in the background that tell of the duties that will lie for soldiers. Missions being spoken by superiors that speak of what needs to be accomplished for the day. This isn’t home but its home for the next ten months. My home is called Camp Taji, Iraq and today is April 9^th, 2004.

     I am truck driver for the 1072^nd PLS (Palletized Load System) Truck Company based out of Fresno, CA. I’ve been with the unit for four months and today is my first mission outside the wire (Outside of base camp). Excitement for the day that lies ahead of is coursing through my body. This is day I’ve waiting for ever since I joined the military in August of 1995. Close to ten years of training has brought me to this a day I’m ready for whatever waits me and my co-driver. I gather my gear for and head towards the motor pool. This walk is something I’ve done numerous times before. I begin to run the pre-system checks on my PLS truck. Here I am in the rising of the sun checking the outside for any damage, looking at my tires for any cracks or low pressure. Crawling underneath my vehicle to see any pools of oil on the floor or fluid leaking from the truck. My pre-system check manual tells me to enter the cabin and turn my truck on. The smoke from the exhaust fills the air and the roar of my engine deafens my ears. Gauges and panels lights tell me that I’m ready for the mission ahead. Its only 0600 (6am) hours and I have to be staged and ready to go at 0800 (8am) hours, I decide breakfast is in order.

     Heading to the main chow hall on post is a short walk but it always has a long line. I see my co-driver and cut in line. He has already been on a few missions and gave me the low down on what were about to do. Specialist Nicholas or what everyone else calls him “Nick” is an athletic older man who has I’ve known since 1999 when I first joined the California National Guard. We had a good connection and since he operated fully automatic machine gun I was put at ease that we were rolling out together. While in line he explained to me that we need to stock up on snack here because we never know what might happen on the road. He made a good point and with that soda, sealed pastries and red bulls entered my pockets. We exited the chow hall and headed back to motor pool to line up our vehicles. Nick and I loaded up our truck with our overnight backpacks, ice chest and weapon systems. Helping Nick with the 5 ammo cans that contained 200 rounds each seemed a bit much but that’s was his typical battle load. He always was over prepared and with that always seeking action. After being packed and loading we both head out to the staging area outside the motor pool.

     The staging area is an open field 1 mile outside of the main gate. This allows all the vehicles to be lined up and outside the gate in less the 5 minutes. As I’m slowing driving up the assistant convoy commander tell me to hold on because I’m going to be the 2^nd to the last truck in the convoy. After hearing that I felt like the kid that was being picked last on a kickball team. I wasn’t good enough to be out front? But I understood, I’m a rookie right now and I haven’t seen the outside yet. Nick told me it’s nothing to be ashamed about, if anything is a good thing because we have a gun truck behind us. It only provides my security for us. He made a good point and plus it’s not like anything is going to happen to us. Not one of our convoys has been hit since we started running convoys back in February of 2004. Plus it’s a simple overnighter to Camp Al-Asaad (110 miles to the west of Baghdad) which was 150 miles to the west of Camp Cooke (Taji, Iraq is 35 miles north of Baghdad). After finally being staged our convoy safety briefing began and I paid close attention. My eyes and ears gained the full attention of what I was about to embark on. Our company commander was a Sergeant First Class by the name of Chapman.  He explained how many trucks were heading out (13 total) what the local threat levels for our route and what to expect.  Nick made it sound like it was the same old song and dance so don’t worry.  He told me to just focus on the trucks ahead and let him worry about any hostel contact.  The briefing ended and like that it was 0800 hours and we were off. 

     As we exited the gate and on to the MSR (Main Supply Route) I noticed how close all the locals and their vehicle were to us on these roads.  Children outside the gate yelling and screaming at every truck so that hopefully the will get one of our prepackaged meals to eat.  We begin the turn onto the main road with our foot to the gas and our eyes to the environment.  Our lead vehicles cleared the path on the roads for us and we passed civilian car after car because we owned the roads we were on.  It was a great feeling knowing that the road belong to me and that any vehicle coming our way had to move or we would me them.  Throwing water bottle or flashing our automatic weapons in the way would insure their cooperation.  Twenty minutes into our trip I hear over the radio that we reached Baghdad and to make the hard turn right on to MSR Sword.  From the distance I see each truck turning onto the MSR and it was an awesome sight.  All of this was happening, truck after truck turning in unison onto the road.  We had 110 mile left make our way to Al-Asaad from Baghdad.  From my truck it was looking like such an intimidating convoy.  I wouldn’t even want to cross our path.  While on this MSR I noticed the buildings that were hit during the previous months.  Huge holes on the sides of the roads from either mortar fire or improvised explosive devices.  One whole that caught my eye was big enough to put a mid-sized car in.  Nick made just of my amazement and told me that I haven’t seen anything yet.  He had been on this road numerous times and knew what was ahead.  While driving down the road a ways there it was a completely destroyed building.  If you didn’t pay attention you would have thought it was just some empty lot.  The foot long holes on the surrounding buildings gave evidence of a firefight.  Over the loud noise of my engine he explained that it used to be an insurgent hangout and that the 1^st Calvary raided it and took it down.  We continued on our way and I couldn’t help but be in awe of what I was doing.  I was finally on the road during the war and loving it.  It made all the years of training worth it, I had finally seen what I thought at the time to be combat.  This is what it was all about and now I can call myself a Veteran.  The moment would be short lived for what was to come would test me mentally, physically and emotionally. 

     After passing the raided building I noticed a plume of smoke in the distance.  My inexperience came in to plan and I quickly grabbed my brand new 2 mega-pixel Kodak camera.  Nick had a better vantage point and told me it was a vehicle that seemed to be disabled.  Has we approached a voice came over the radio.  “Be on alert guys, it’s a civilian truck on fire” sounded over my speaker.  Perfect, it’ll be my first war story I can talk about.  While I was driving I began to turn on my new camera and take pictures has we began to approach.  The truck seemed to be a fueler and it was in bad shape.  The radio again goes on and says “Keep your eyes on guys”.  Nick and “Audry” (He named his automatic rifle after his girlfriend) were ready but I was feeling like Ansel Adams at that time.  As we were passing the flaming truck the lead truck in our convoy was approaching a village to the right.  We were a long convoy so I couldn’t notice what was in front of us.  Then it began, “Contact Right”!!! (Over the radio), my worse fear and what I’ve always wanted to be in began.

     The sounds of automatic fire engulf the air, civilians in the area were scattering, and here I was unable to do nothing but drive.  Since all the contact was happening on his side he was pressing his trigger finger like he was at the state fair shooting targets.  I was helpless driving and focusing on the road.  The radio was giving instruction but how could I listen when my co-driver is shooting his weapons.  My ears where going deaf because of the close proximity to him shooting.  I followed the vehicle in front of me, I was his twin.  He turned to the left side of the road I did to.  He dodged a box, we dodged a box.  My muscle memory from years of training was kicking in and I didn’t even know it.  During one of my turns I remember what appeared to be a coffee can explode.  Nick and I were in shock because if it was 2-4 seconds later that would have been right in our truck.  Adrenaline was flowing and Nick was laying fire down on anything that moved.  While I was driving I would look over to his side and see all the people shooting at us.  At that time I was pissed off that I couldn’t partake in the shooting.  During all this time I forgot I had my camera in my hand so I did what I thought was right at the time. I switched to video and filmed what I was going through.  If anything was going to happen to me I wanted my kids to know what I did.  What seemed like hours only lasted less than ten minutes but It forever is now engraved in my memory.

     During the last few minutes the gunfire began to fade of into the distant.  My adrenaline was still pumping my heart at a fast pace.  As the convoy continued on the road I wondered if any of the other trucks had been as fortunate has Nick and I.  The radio again continues with chatter and I here that were being diverted to the closest military base on the road.  During that time which lasted another few minutes I slowly tried to comprehend what I had just been through.  I pulled and gathered all my thoughts.  So much of me wanted to brag and boast about what I had just been through.  I felt this sense of becoming and it overwhelmed me.  I cemented, at least in my mind that I’m now a “Soldier”.  As we pulled into the base Medics awaited our arrival.  It was unknown to us at the time but we had five injured.  When I finally parked that’s when I saw them pull out one of my own brothers.  Specialist Bond had been shot in both legs and it hit me.  The medics rushed him out of our sight onto an awaiting helicopter.  I never got to see him before he left but I did see the inside of his truck.  The pools of blood on the seat gave off an odor I’ve never experienced.  The holes on his door where reminders of how lucky my truck was.  That cement feeling had now changed to guilt and sorrow.  All though I wasn’t in his truck I felt bad that I couldn’t have done something to have prevented “Bond’s” injury.  Then a huge dust storm began to take shape and the roar of an engine over took the landscape.  It was the medics chopper taking our brother to the hospital.  As that chopper flew over us and we began to grasp what had just happened to us all, I hit me.  We’re going to have to go back on the road and continue what we had just started thirty minutes ago.