Our Epilogue

By Jack Mandaville

 

“Those who will may raise monuments of marble to perpetuate the fame of heroes. Those who will may build memorial halls to remind those who shall gather there in after times what manhood could do and dare for right, and what high examples of virtue and valor have gone before them. But let us make our offering to the ever-living soul. Let us build our benefactions in the ever-growing heart, that they shall live and rise and spread in blessing beyond our sight, beyond the ken of man and beyond the touch of time.”
-Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain

The most defining years of my life were in the United States Marine Corps. In that environment of testosterone-driven bravado, aggression, and heartache, I witnessed the finest qualities of man emerge from those I served with. Their bravery, wit, and undying loyalty to each other are characteristics I’ve never found with any other large mass of people.

Most of us are barely clinging on to our twenties at this point. Our service ended when MySpace was still the most popular social-networking tool. Iraq, like MySpace, is a bygone episode to most Americans—not these guys, though. You don’t forget things like that, even when it seems like everyone around you has.

I recently attended a wedding for one of the men I served with. In fact, at this wedding, there were eight of us who shared our service together at one point or another. All of them are Veterans of Iraq. All of them served as infantrymen. And all of them were involved with at least one major offensive operation during that conflict. We don’t need to beat around the bush here, folks: they’ve all inflicted, been a witness to, and have been on the receiving end of unique levels of violence—like many who’ve served.

We see an unvarying glorification of what these men did via film, literature, and videogames. Americans, as a whole, are preoccupied with war (always have been)—this is undeniable. The aforementioned mediums have given Joe Sixpack and Plain Jane an opportunity to safely indulge their curiosities. I certainly can’t blame anyone for being interested in the subject. Conflict is primal. Even those who partake in it from a safe distance instinctively want to be involved with it… or at the very least understand it.

But as I get older, and after witnessing the recent gathering between these men, I can honestly say that the things they did in the crucibles of war aren’t what impresses me about them. I guess, in a sick way, seeing and constantly hearing about the extraordinary actions of those who fought becomes very ordinary after a while. Maybe, as the years have passed, I’ve taken their feats for granted. I do know one thing, though: they’re currently at their best.

The young men they once were doesn’t even hold a candle to the men they’ve become. I didn’t see battle hardened Marines at this wedding. I saw devoted husbands, loving fathers, and skilled professionals. These guys have a zest for life that few can understand. That voracious appetite for peace was born out of their exposure to the worst levels of violence. This is why I’m in awe of them. This is why their greatest accomplishments were not in combat exploits, but in their thriving attempt at normalcy… and they represent the Iraq/Afghanistan generation as a whole.

One of my close friends at the wedding was a guy named… well, we can call him “Ski.” Anyone who has ever served in the military knows at least one person like him. He was an uncontrolled Marine who tested his chain-of-command’s patience at every opportunity, just one incident after another with the guy. The thing is he was not only a great rifleman, but everyone—including the higher ups—really liked him despite his penchant for trouble.

In a very ironic way, Iraq was a safer place for him than being stateside—mainly because he was forced to put his game face on and was removed from the temptations of boredom and alcohol… things that usually triggered his wild ways.

Here’s a brief summary of Ski’s exploits:

• Led dozens of Mexican police officers on a thirty minute high-speed car chase around Tijuana, eventually making it safely over the border with a juice supply that could humble Ken Caminiti.
• Got blackout drunk in the middle of a month long training exercise and delivered a stallion-like downpour of urine on his platoon sergeant as he lay sleeping.
• Drunkenly stumbled onto a US naval vessel and took not one, not two, not three, but four steaming dumps around numerous common areas of the ship.
• Tossed four MRE bombs in a Quonset hut filled with all of our company’s staff NCOs and officers, then proceeded to block the doors as they ferociously attempted to escape the vomit-inducing fumes.
• Got piss-drunk right after our deployment homecoming and went around tearing down all the “Welcome Home” signs adorning our barracks with the intent of setting them ablaze. Before he could light those bitches on fire, the Duty NCO approached him—which resulted in Ski throwing a Butterbean-style haymaker right at the guy’s face, dropping him like Snookie.
• (When I visited him in his hometown two years after we were out of the Marine Corps.) Threw a full can of beer at a group of college students passing us on the freeway… right in front of a Massachusetts Highway Patrolman. After the officer had pulled us over and threatened all of us with a trip to jail, Ski decided the best thing he could do was go into a loud, unapologetic tirade about how the college students deserved it. We were let off with a warning a few minutes later.

Those are just a few examples out of hundreds.

Right after the wedding ceremony ended, as guests began making their way to the reception hall, I approached Ski to ask how he was getting to the reception.
“I’m not going to the reception, man,” he responded. “I really just wanna go back to my place and be with my daughter.”

I’ve known him for almost a decade and, in that time, the basis of our friendship typically consisted of him exposing me to one debauched experience after another. Now, at thirty years old, he was happily forgoing a night of excessive drinking, dancing, and cavorting with his Marine Corps friends in order to be with a little girl he loves more than anything on this earth.
I wasn’t taken aback or even bothered by his response. After a decade of friendship, it was the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen from him. More impressive than anything he ever did in uniform.

Attending this wedding/reunion with these men and their significant others gave me a tremendous sense of joy. Everything they’ve gone through as Marines, as Veterans, in their careers, and as family men has been a struggle. They always come through… and this is the truest testament of their character.

Our only obligation to the past, at this point, is to remember those who can’t share the future with us—the thousands of brave men and women who gave all. As we grow old and witness each other wrinkle and gray, those who made the ultimate sacrifice will always be remembered in their youth. They’re kept in our hearts every single day and serve as a constant reminder that we must live our lives to the fullest.

We can never forget our experiences—the good or the bad. Plato said, “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” For those who survive it, they are left to fight for peace. It’s not a peace that’s found by the end of conflict, but a personal one. To understand serenity and happiness you must break through the worst of violence and despair. Find someone and give them your undivided love. Be an excellent parent. Strive to provide for your family with a career you enjoy. They know this and they’re living examples of true peace.

5 Comments

1. 

   kimberly ballard

   October 30, 2012 at 2:31 pm

   I have read quite a few things this morning, from a daily devotional to some news articles and status’ etc… the two single best sentences that have graced my eyes this morning are as follows:

   Before he could light those bitches on fire, the Duty NCO approached him—which resulted in Ski throwing a Butterbean-style haymaker right at the guy’s face, dropping him like Snookie.
   and
   “I’m not going to the reception, man,” he responded. “I really just wanna go back to my place and be with my daughter.”

   Both from and of the same man. The life lived by those giving to the up keep of our freedom is not easily understood, never fully appreciated and often misrepresented. Behind every re-action given by these men and women is sprung from a source of will to live so deep we (the general public) are not privy to its excellence, pure sorrow and sense of duty. We can only try to empathize and offer a meager attempt of appreciation, but our best moments breathed and lived are directly related to the action and caliber of life lived by these few and proud souls. So, continue to laugh, love, spew your opinions, scamper around in your daily grind and dig deep for that streak of patriotism that promotes gratitude, but don’t worry because as has always been true of the men and women that stand at our watch, they’ve got our backs.

   Reply
   • 

     Tommy Brasington

     October 31, 2012 at 7:13 pm

     Kim, if I may call you that…I am currently a U.S. Army SSG, have served in the infantry in combat, and have heard MANY words of encouragement and thanks in my career. The meat of your last paragraph is one of the most heartfelt, beautifully written tributes I have ever read with regard to your appreciation to those of us who have lived the “life” of combat. There are no words to describe the concise and eloquent way that you have just thanked us.

     “We can only try to empathize and offer a meager attempt of appreciation, but our best moments breathed and lived are directly related to the action and caliber of life lived by these few and proud souls.” – - Trust me when I tell you this; every word of encouragement breathed by a thankful soul is thanks enough. Despite the lack of continuity between the life of an average American going about their daily life and that of an American Soldier, you can rest assured that we are simply ordinary people that volunteered for and in extraordinary circumstances. For every one of us that joined for a purely patriotic purpose, there are a thousand that joined for a myriad of other reasons; however, those of us that DID join knew one thing for sure…we were joining a fight, regardless of our proximity to the ordinance. I thank YOU for your appreciation, and can assure you that no matter how you choose to thank a veteran, it is always appreciated. Thank you, and God bless. With your blessing, I am going to copy and paste the entire last paragraph to share with my Facebook contingency, as I believe that your words are spoken with and from peace, genuinely showing appreciation for those of us who have served in order to ensure that the peace we all know and love is WORTH EVERY LAST DROP OF EFFORT WE CAN GIVE.

     ALL THE WAY, Airborne, with love and respect, and until the last drop of blood is soaked into the Earth,

     Tommy

     Reply
2. 

   John

   November 6, 2012 at 12:04 pm

   Can you expound on the MRE Bombs…don’t know what that is…as far as the rest of the article goes, you’re spot on brother…I can tell you I see and feel the same things after being back now 5 years.

   Reply
   • 

     CF

     November 19, 2012 at 5:00 am

     An MRE bomb is made when you take a chemical heater (or four) from and MRE and then drop them into some kind of container (usually a Gatorade bottle) add a few cap-fulls of water and then replace the cap and throw it before it explodes.

     As long as you don’t use a container that is too rigid (like a hard plastic canteen or a metal bottle) it’s relatively safe. All you get is a gigantic bang and a flash of hydrogen. The flash can by flammable, but if you give it a good 10 meter distance you should be OK.

     If you want to weaponize the thing you can put rocks or jacks in it, but then it stops being fun and starts getting dangerous. Also, don’t hold on to it for more than a few seconds or you can seriously injure your fingers.

     Reply
3. 

   Katie

   November 11, 2012 at 11:51 pm

   Such an eloquent article, I read it to my children and found myself shedding tears as I finished. Thank you for your service.

   Reply