A lot of people ask Veterans and service members the same question, how do you describe Freedom? Our answer is usually the same, the common “well, it means different things to different people.” Because most people do not look at it from our perspective,
we really can’t tell you how we describe it. So, I thought that I would share it with you and maybe you will be able to see it from our point of view.
First, you have to have a little back ground about our situation. Imagine, if you will, that you are working at a store making minimum wage. Your manager comes to you and says “there is a man out there in the store, who is armed to the teeth and he said that he will kill the first associate he sees. I need you to go out there and take his weapons and convince him that he should leave the store.” What do you say? I can imagine your answer.
Now picture this, you are ten thousand miles from home, and you haven’t seen your family in 11 months. There is a group of innocent people who are surrounded by heavy fighting and have virtually minutes to live. Your platoon sergeant tells you that the torch for freedom must be carried and you have been chosen to carry it. Your fire team has been tasked with going in, finding them and bringing them to safety. Mind you, these are people you don’t know, in a situation you didn’t create. Now their lives are in the hands of you and your men.
These “men” as you call them are between the ages of 18 and 20 years old, hell they can’t even buy a beer. They look to you to guide them in the right direction and to be there to watch their backs. This is exactly what you have sworn to do when you got promoted and took that extra $250.00 a year pay increase. Now you have to tell your men.
In your tent, you brief these “men” about the situation and tell them what your orders are. All they ask is “who’s got point?” You tell them to be ready in five. They turn to and gather what they need for the mission. All the time they are doing this they are going through the mental photo album they carry with them and looking at pictures oftheir wives and kids, parents and siblings. 5 minutes, they are ready.
As you approach the wire, you are laying in the sand scanning the horizon, nothing. You say to yourself,” pick up the torch.” You say to your men,” move out” and they do. As you stand and start to move you hear the air around you start to pop, the sand around you erupts in several tiny volcanoes. The mental album comes back for viewing; you push it aside without thinking. You yell over your shoulder,” Spread out!” You want to scream “take cover”, but you are in a desert and there is none. From behind you, you hear the sound of fresh meat being dropped on the floor, you know what it is, but you can’t stop. You rush to the next sand dune and get really small, almost pushing yourself right into the ground, you scan the horizon, but the heat waves blur anything that is out there. You call for a count, it comes back, and you are down one man. The mental album comes back and you see the picture of his 19 year old wife and their new baby that he just showed you yesterday, you say to yourself, too bad she will never know her dad, he was a great man. That annoying popping noise is back; you slam the album shut and get back to business.
One of your men yells he can see a building, you craw towards him and ask where. He says right over there, and raises his head to show you. You hear that sound again and watch him go limp; his blood is on your face, and your hands. You instinctively pull him to you and roll him over, too late he has move to his next mission, and you take the radio off his back and put it on. You are down two men now. You make a mental map where they are, and make a vow to return.
You rally what’s left of your team and lay out a plan on how to get to the building, hoping it’s the right building. You think that if you had some support it might buy you and your men some time and cover to get to the building. You reach for the mike on your radio and yell into it “Big Gun, Big Gun, Whiskey Tango, over; and you wait.After what seems like an eternity you hear a crackle on the radio say “Whiskey Tango, Big Gun. Go ahead, over.” You give them your coordinates and say,” Priority, priority,danger close. Over.” They respond with “Roger that, get small. Over.” You turn to your men and repeat the warning” Get small!” You try to become the smallest target you can by getting as flat to the ground as possible.
You hear the whistle in the air and as you feel the impact on the ground, you allow it to lift you up and you are running as fast as you can to the building. You don’t look to see if they are following your lead, you know they are. As you get close to the building, the doors swing open and people are rushing at you, something knocks you to the ground as the building explodes. You can’t hear anything, you try to get up, but nothing is responding. Suddenly you are sliding across the sand, you look up and see two of your men dragging you by your harness to the safety of the remains of the building , the other two are laying down cover fire for you. They look you over, and amazingly you are ok.
Your men look into your face and using hand signals they tell you they have found the correct building. You look around and see them yelling to the other two, but you can’t hear them. You signal to rally and you make a plan in the dirt. They give you a thumbs up to let you know they hear and understand, you just wish you could hear. One of them takes the mike and repeats your last call. The earth shakes and you’re up and running again, this time you make it to the building.
Once inside you post your men and assess the situation; three old men, four women and two young children. The album opens up again and before you can put it away, your last family photo pops up and you see the faces of your two little girls; you slam it shut. Mentally you are thinking, one way in, one way out.
Miraculously, your hearing is coming back just as one of your men yells” we are surrounded”. You are back in business. You craw to the one window and slowly raise up to see what you are up against, the window explodes in your face sending you and shards of glass flying across the room. Rolling over and dusting yourself off you huddle your new charges into the far corner and try to smile reassuringly to the children, back to business.
You yell” this is going to get hairy, watch your six!” As you craw back to the window and peek out, you’re thinking there is no way out of here. Suddenly there is a frenzy of gun shots and you can hear the bullets hitting the crude concrete causing shards of stone to fly everywhere. In the corner you get on the radio, you tell them you have recovered the target but you are pinned down in the building. They answer back; sit tight, help is on the way. You tell your men. They set up a parameter and stop anyone from advancing on you. You hear the blades as they chop through the air; you pop smoke and toss it out the window.
The world outside erupt in a deafening sound of gun fire and rockets, the door swings open and you think God himself is standing at the door, but it is just reinforcements who have come to get you out. Every one grabs your charges and runs for the choppers. You make a head count. All accounted for. You feel yourself lifting off; you’re in the air, headed for home. You grab the head set and you ask the pilot, “what about my men” he knows what you are talking about and replies “it’s already done”. You check your men and slump to the floor as you listen to the rotor noise start to block out the gun fire and explosions.
Back on the ground you escort your charges to the aid station and tell your men to go back to the tent. You brief the commander about the mission and go to chow. In the chow line, the man behind the counter ask “Mashed potatoes or stuffing?” You reply “What?” He says “Your choice.” You reply “mashed potatoes.” Thinking to yourself, now that’s freedom.