text: \[Trigger Warning: War, combat, death, attempted suicide - but it's not the main subject of the story\] This is fairly intense, so please use your best judgement.. Everything you're about to read is real and this is the best I can recall the events that took place. I will not share any real names, no real dates, this is my story and I don't want to expose anyone that doesn't want it, so all names will be fake if they need to be used. For those of you that have never seen a war from the frontlines, this what it looks like, I'll do my best to paint a picture. For those that have, my experience is nowhere near some of the stories I've heard. I consider myself fortunate to not have been deployed during the OIF campaign. \-- *\*takes a deep breath\** This mission lasted around 5 days if I remember correctly, we moved out at night on the first day. Easily 6 miles with a metric shit-ton of gear, but not nearly as heavy as I've carried before. The mission we packed the heaviest, my ruck (backpack essentially), weighed around 150lbs. The heaviest I have ever weighed was 145lbs, currently sitting around 130-135 for reference. Just standing up was a struggle, let alone walking miles with it at night. I fell often, in fact, my squad was so used to me tripping and falling, we got to the point where we'd just laugh about my clumsiness, they'd help me up if they were nearby, and we'd continue on. Back to the first night. Nothing exciting happened, we moved in at night and secured a perimeter around this building in the middle of nowhere, and waited for the sun to come up. We were securing an abandoned school so we could set up an observation post for some special forces unit. I wasn't special forces, let's get that straight right now. We set up around the school and as the sun came up, we started to move inside and secure it. Every day from then on, at about 5pm, we'd get shot at. It was nothing crazy, they were just harassing us, and they're smart- they wanted to see how we would react, what we do, and they studied us over the next couple days. The night before my "personal hell" my squad went out to see if we could find the places we were getting shot at from, looking for brass on the ground, dug in positions, anything that could be used against us. As we sat outside the school holding guard, each of us were in pairs and I was paired with a Sergeant, we'll call him Ky for the purpose of our story. Ky and I had gotten to know each other throughout our deployment, he was attached to my squad as a Spotter with his Sniper counter-part. When you are sitting in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night, what do you talk about? Everything and anything that comes to mind. We talked about home, the crazy shit we had gotten into before the military, girls we'd dated, girls we loved, our favorite whiskey, our favorite music and artists. Everything that came to mind. At this point, we had been deployed for about three or four months, we'd been shot at multiple times, we were used to the conditions, and the people in our squad were brothers. I would die over and over again for each one of them without hesitation. I wish I contacted them more now that we've all separated, but I haven't in a long time. The same guys that were on the squad at the beginning of the deployment were the same that would be on the squad at the end, all we did was get to know each other's stories on missions. Ky was no different. I knew he was recently married to his high school sweetheart, I knew they were planning kids, I knew the things that close friends would know and my heart hurts for this every day. The next day, we were prepared. 4pm rolled around and we were setting people up on the roof, we knew we'd get shot at, just like every day, and this time we weren't just going to let them harass us. A platoon from 1st ID came out to help us with our mission, they brought trucks with the bigger guns, the .50 cals, the mk18s, and they positioned them in a half circle around the school, waiting for the first round to come in. Some fucking help that unit was. The school was shaped like a U but more like this I\_\_I , I would've been on the bottom right corner with a mk48 machine gun by myself. Somewhat next to me was my roommate and probably my closest friend, he had another machine gun, m240 bravo. The guns aren't relevant, well.. mine might be. 5pm nears and everyone gets in position behind their weapons, the smoking and joking subsides, it is so quiet I could hear my heart in my ears. When you are about to take contact, several things happen: it becomes eerily silent, all the kids that were out playing disappear, no one can be found, you always feel it before you hear it. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the pit in your stomach, and the feeling that something just isn't right. This led to the firefight, but it wasn't the most important part. A sandstorm had been moving in all day, it wasn't going to be anything crazy, but it was enough to take our air support offline. All our birds went away, and they fucking knew it too. Cracks and snaps start to mix in with the dirt being blown all over. When you're getting shot at, you know it. But what you don't know is where it's coming from. In this scenario? Fucking everywhere. About 800meters in front of my position and in nearly a half circle in front of the school, muzzle flashes started appearing. The only light thing we could see through the sandstorm. Everyone started returning fire. Time passes incredibly fast when your adrenaline is flowing, this firefight would go on for 4 hours, and I only remember a few things happening. My gun jammed. I go through the proper motions to clear the jam, fire, it jams again. Repeat the process 5 or 6 times at least, before something interrupted me. I heard someone call out an RPG and when I looked up, I shit you not, this thing was coming right at me. I'd only seen them in video games, and that was no comparison.. I didn't know what it was at first, but it felt like everything was in slow motion. I reached up for just a second to see how close it was. I felt like I could've touched it. Maybe a foot, foot and a half above my right shoulder. The slow motion ended as it passed me, and it hit the center of the building behind me. Later we would come to find out that my gun would be considered blacklined. Unusable. The best time for it break, and sure as fuck, it did. We would also learn later that that RPG landed where the ladder to roof was (about 10 feet behind me), and there was definitely a guy standing on top of the ladder. How he survived, I don't know, it had to of blown up in his face and he easily took a 15 foot fall backwards into the school courtyard, only to put the ladder back up and go back up to the roof. My squad leader must've recognized something was wrong, he surprised the shit out of me when I felt him dive next to me and take cover. Running across this roof right now is insane, he must've been 6'2, the dude is one of biggest targets out there, what a fucking badass. He comes over and starts figuring stuff out with me, leaves me ammo, his m4 until we can figure my gun out, and then moves on to the next soldier. My eyes diverted to where he went, off to my right where he laid next to my roommate. I looked past them. On the opposite corner of the building to me, I saw Ky, kneeling on one knee firing 40mm grenades out of his launcher. *\*another deep breath, and here come the tears\** Ky fell backwards onto his back and scooted back, he had turned around and saw that I was looking at him. We made eye contact and he was waving his arm over his head at me, the whole thing, trying to give me a signal. I didn't get it.. until his body went limp. Everything hit me at the same time, but the first word out of my mouth was "medic." I whispered it at first, not realizing how loud everything was around me.. and then everything really hit me. I screamed it and pointed at Ky. People started scrambling, his sniper hadn't even noticed yet. It was me. It was only me. I watched the whole thing unfold before my eyes, I couldn't look away. My medic stripped him down, I could see the blood from where I was, I was in a trance.. Until someone slapped the back of my helmet. My squad leader was somehow on the other side of me, I must've looked shell shocked as fuck, but he brought me back. "Don't look at it, we'll find out what happened later, but right now you need to keep your head in the right place. What happened to your gun?" "It keeps jamming, I can't fix it." My squad leader starts messing with it only to realize what I said was true. He gave it back to me and said "It follows you. Bring it in case we can fix it, but we need a gun over there." "In Ky's position?" "That's the one, get ready to move, stay low and right on my ass." "MOVE!" I grabbed my gun and sprinted with him across the roof, bullets were flying everywhere around us. Everything felt like a blur at that point, my mind was a mess. I don't even remember getting to where I was.. but I remember.. Standing straight up when I got to the other side of the roof. All of a sudden the bullets coming at me didn't matter. People were yelling at me, telling me to get down. And I just stood there, staring at the ground in front of me. There was so much blood. Caked in the dirt, it was dark, but it was everywhere and there was no mistaking what it was. I looked at my squad leader, who was already laying down next to it, I just looked at him. He must've known I was asking him "do I have to?" Subconsciously of course, but he nodded his head and grabbed my wrist. I only let him pull me to my knees, and then I laid completely down in Ky's blood. From my chest to my knees I could feel it. I didn't cry, I didn't do anything besides shoot back, I kept my head in the game until it was time for me to come off the roof. The gunfire didn't subside until sometime after dusk.. We finally started getting air support after I came off the roof, it had easily been four hours and they were dropping bombs so close to us, the windows of the school were shattering from the shockwaves. It didn't matter. Everything that mattered had already happened. \-- I was sick to my stomach. I took that list to the room my platoon slept in and started packing the rucksacks of the names on the list. I knew what it meant. Those were the people that were injured today, and Ky was in critical condition. Silently, I got their stuff together. I was quiet, I couldn't stop thinking about everything, but I couldn't show emotion. Not in front of everyone. If I cry, I'm weak, and I can't let my brothers know I'm weak. I packed their rucks and staged them outside the room and then went to sit in the courtyard with my squad. Solemn faces, no words. Everyone was either dipping or smoking, the guys that didn't smoke started. I was doing both, my entire body was shaking from the amount of nicotine, but I couldn't stop. I needed something, anything to take my mind off of it. I couldn't let my thoughts catch up to me, not until I could be alone. Trucks pulled up. I had no idea they were coming, but I was so happy to see them when I started recognizing faces from my unit.. They were there to pick us up, and they took up to the nearest shitty little base they could. Everyone unloaded and just sat and waited inside our tent for the news. Solemn faces all around, no emotions, the calm before the storm. I knew. I already knew, and I just wanted my suspicions confirmed. Everything in my body was tired, but I was wide awake. I needed to know. Our platoon sergeant called everyone together, he explained that Ky had taken a bullet in through the right side of his torso and what they assumed was that it ricocheted off the opposite side rib or his side plates, but it had ricocheted into his heart. He wasn't dead instantly, but close to it. I only remember seeing emotion from my medic, he was having a rough time, and it was messing with me. Most machine gunners are given a secondary weapon, the reason we assumed was that if our gun ever stopped working, the m9 was there to defend ourselves. At least until the last bullet, that one was made for my head unless I wanted to be captured. Fortunately I was never in that position, but I wanted to mention it because it's about to become relevant. Shortly after my platoon sergeant announced the news, our base started taking rocket fire. The alarms went off and we started hearing explosions once again. "For fuck's sake" was the general mood as we all filed outside to the bunker. It was completely silent, except for the alarm and explosions. No one wanted to say anything, no one knew what to say. When the alarms stopped, people filed out of the bunker, I was sitting on some sandbags and didn't move. My friends asked me if I was alright and I nearly lost it in front of them. "Just give me a minute yeah? I'll catch up with you guys." Everyone left the bunker, and finally I was alone. I lost it. I was the same kid I was in school again, bawling my eyes out, drooling on myself, the ugly cry. I couldn't handle everything that had happened, I played through the events in my head. I watched Ky wave at me over and over again, I held my knees close to me chest and just let everything out. And then, the real dark thoughts hit me. He was married, they were going to have kids, a family. He had his whole life in front of him, with such promise.. so much life. Why wasn't it me? It could've just as easily been me. Why wasn't it? I'm a single soldier, my family loves me to death, but I had nothing going for me. If I would've been killed, I would've been missed by few people.. But not like him. His support system was huge, he was much closer to his family, and he got mail all the time. His life was so much brighter than mine, and that's all I could see right then. I don't remember how we got to the next part.. it's still a blur. But I remember clearly pushing my m9 to my temple, finger on the trigger, ready to join my friend. I didn't deserve to be alive, it should've been me. "Please, why couldn't it have been me?" The tears wouldn't stop, I tried to get the strength to just end it, I didn't want to live with this. These thoughts, these memories, it was too much... then I heard someone coming and panicked, immediately pulling the gun away from my head just in time for one of my squad mates to walk into the bunker. "There you are. Come on, platoon meeting, we're waiting on you." He saw the gun in my hand. "You doing alright?" I tried to be as natural as I could. "Yeah, just give me a second." He waited outside until I could compose myself and then followed him into the tent, I get caught every time I try to do something wrong. I was always the one that got caught, and here it was, true again. But without him walking in that night, at that time, I don't know what would've happened, but I was pretty committed to that action. In the following weeks, we were required to meet with a combat counselor. As a platoon, as a squad, as individuals. We were told to tell her what we felt and to be honest, but we were also warned that if the notes she took appear that we aren't "fit for combat" they would most likely send us home. One person was moved platoons and sent home early, the poor kid was shell shocked for the majority of the deployment, combat isn't for everyone and you never know how you're going to react until the first bullet goes off. Some people freeze up, others take charge, some of us just want to make sure we do everything possible to protect the people we care about. I didn't say much to her, I said that I was the last one to see Ky alive. I cried in front of my platoon, but I didn't say anything more. I wanted to stay with them and I wouldn't risk getting sent home on my own selfishness. Damn I was stupid. When you don't take care of your mental health, it will continue to decline, these things you hold in will weigh on you eventually and break you down. It took years before I finally went to therapy, and even then, I'll tell you the only reason I went was to get my dog certified as an Emotional Support Animal so I could bring her to school with me. In the end, she didn't get certified, but I did get help. Thank you for reading and letting me share this memory of mine with you.. I hope it made you feel something.