Flinging themselves out of the way, the unwitting Samaritans ran into the slowing masses of vehicles to get out of the way.  Mothers clinging to their babies, men putting their arms over their faces, they all complied with my sudden and abrupt order.  M-4 now in my hand, no one was going to get past me… no one.

Sitting their poised and waiting in my pill-box, I held up traffic with a little more authority then a simple show of my palm.  The convoy, led by HQ 6 screamed and turned by my position, Scout HUMVE's secured the flanks and front, while the M113 APC carried its precious cargo down the smooth highway.

Skidding into motion, Maxey broke free from our position and followed in hot pursuit of the Convoy.  Keeping the 25mm cannon pointed to the 6 o'clock I continued to hold traffic back.

On this same Freeway, not 3 weeks earlier, we were making a 'Thunder Run' for the center of Baghdad.  Vehicles were still on the Freeway, most of the occupants had fled in panic as they saw our Battalion and their own Army coming at each other in the streets and highways of the Capital city.  Although we had taken a swift detour to the north of the city, this was it, Abu Ghurayb.  This was the freeway we had used to come into the city.  I remember it. I will always remember it. 

There, under the same bridge that was witnessing the fate of our First Sergeant in the balance, stood a structure that saw the doom of a T-72 Republican Guard Tank crew.  Defending its position under the bridge, the tank crew sought concealment from the vastly superior American air power above.   Crouched and waiting behind a bend it sat.  Barrel muzzle pointed west, the direction of our advance into Baghdad.  Gutted busses and cars sprawled out like open corpses on the highway obstructed the tanks full view.  Civilian vehicles left behind by their occupants to be placed in our way to slow our advance made it a double edge sword that also effected the movement of the Republican Guard.

There in waiting it saw the first of our Abrams, and shot… missing its mark.  The crew of the M1-A2 Abrams tank answered with its own tank round, however this time hitting its mark.  The shear force of medal ripping through medal propelled the turret of the T-72 up and into the bridge cracking and breaking its foundation.

Foresight on members of the crew maybe told them to run before the Abrams shot, but it was too late for them.  They were too close to the tank when it exploded to be safe as the exited in haste.  Pieces of shrapnel ripped through their tender flesh making it a mangled mess on the thoroughfare. Collapsing in the cool shade of the bridge they left this world violently for a more serine plain of existence.

Bursting into flames the tank consumed the near by soldiers that were still alive but grasping to life.  The bridge, now scared today with the remnants of the small skirmish watched us depart the scene and disappear in the sun's brightness.

In a simple but swift act of insanity, our lives were forever changed.  I can say that about a lot of things in this conflict, but this is the most significant thing that will be forever burned in my memory, this day, this time, this place.  Now, once again, fear, sadness, and hatred trembled through my body as the wind blew in my face rolling down a freeway that once had seen so much carnage.

We had taken the rear in the formation of vehicles leading the charge down the barren black top. With my turret still covering the rear of the formation I waited, just waited for someone to challenge my authority.  Lest they forget, I have the biggest gun in these parts, and that makes me in charge.  No one came close to dispute my reign as king of this highway, they kept their distance, and all was well for them, for I would have used any excuse to execute my ultimate power.

"Maxey, keep on them…"

"…"

…the BSA was in sight.

With a stone face and a burn in my heart HQ 66 and the rest of the emergency convoy piled their way into the main gate of the BSA and MASH unit.

"Maxey, find a good spot to park.  I'll get out and get an update."

"…"

"I'll take that as a yes…" as I looked about the new place I was in, the MASH hospital had been set up in an old factory head quarters building, there was a high wall around us and what looked like almost every Battalion Field Train Head Quarters neatly tucked away in rows and Buildings.  Cooks, Medical Personnel, Fueler's, Food stores, Ammo, everything was here, even a HEMMIT truck full of orange bags of mail fresh for the sorting.

Neatly tucking our own vehicle out of the way of possible traffic I called up to Battalion Head Quarters, "Battle X-ray, this is Battle 6 Golf, over."

"Battle 6 Golf, this is Battle X-ray, go ahead over."

"Roger that Battle X-ray, break…"    "…the Ground e-vac has been complete time now, break…"  "The commander's, Battle 6 and Head Hunter 6 are here, break…"    "…Saber 7, and an element of Battle Bones are also co-located here, over."

"Roger that Battle 6 Golf, that's a good copy over."

"Roger Battle X-ray, I will follow up with further information as it becomes available, over."

"Understood Battle 6 Golf."

"Roger that, this is Battle 6 Golf out," placing the hand-mike down a-top of the turret I spoke into the CVC, " Maxey, shut her down, but keep the main power on so we can use the radio.  I'm going to get out and for the time being and you need to come up here and monitor the radio's and relay for me."

As the engine was shutting down in a silent compliance I saw the Drivers hatch lift up and a CVC Helmet come out.

"Hey Maxey, you alright?"

Looking up at me as he moved his hand through his sweat socked hair he looked into my eyes and gave a slow head nod.  "Roger Sergeant."

Giving my own side glance at him, I tried to read his demeanor but for once was unable to piece it together.  "Are you sure you're alright Maxey?"

"Yes Sergeant," he responded as he motioned me to get a move on and find out what was going on.  "Ill be here monitoring the radios, go and find out what's going on," he reluctantly said to me.

"Ok, roger that Maxey, I'm going to go see the Commander.  If you need to leave the Bradley, you can go over to HQ 6 and see what's up with Gifford for me…"

"Ok, Sergeant, what ever you say…"

Looking deep into the soldiers' eyes I tried to read his thoughts but was once again unable to do something that had earlier been so easy for me.  SPC Maxey had erected a fortress around his emotions that medieval kings would have been envious of living behind.

"Well, I'm getting up and out of here, stay safe…"

"Roger Sergeant."

Grabbing my M-4 and slipping my Kevlar on my head, I snapped the chin strap in place and fit the helmet snuggly on my head.  The sun blinding and bright was intense and just at above eye level.  The sky transitioning into a deeper tan as the mid-day sun approached. Securing my armored vest around my chest and body I gave a silent head nod to my driver and once again tried to read his emotions, still nothing.  "I'll be back Maxey," I left with as I carefully climbed out of the turret and down the face of the Bradley to the safe and security of solid ground. 

Standing firmly on the sandy surface, my legs were trembling.  The adrenalin still flowing in my body I was more in tune with my senses and was very aware of the blood flowing in the veins of my arms and legs.  Each pump of my heart was reverberated all throughout my body, making my skin feel tight and secure around my body. Sweat started to dribble down my face as the heat trapped by the helmet began to slow cook my skull.  My face sticky with oil and intermixed with dust began to twitch and feel prickly. "What do I do now?"  I silently questioned myself while tasting the bitterness of the after effect of adrenalin in the human body.

The Commander was with the doctors and had no information on what was really happening.  The medics that brought him in had handed him off as an ambulance in the states would hand off its patients to the ER, there was nothing more they could do but sit and wait, but for what?

"Specialist Melby…"  I inference to a scout friend of mine,  "…what happened?"

Looking up from his standing position near his HUMVE he responded, "Those fuckers, I could kill them!"

Taken back by the statement, I felt it physically around my heart.  I cocked my head and leaned in instinctively to gather more information.  "What do you mean?"

"We were escorting the C-O and the First Sergeant from the BSA when some fucking Ha-jee stopped in front of HQ 16, CPT Watkins vehicle.  He stopped so suddenly that the commander had to veer out of the way!  The First Sergeants vehicle, HQ 17 was following close and made the adjustment like the C-O did, but there was a van in the lane next to them.   The First Sergeant wasn't wearing a seat belt, and you know as well as I do we don't have doors on the soft skin HUMVE's so we can exit out of them faster right."

"Yea…" was my short response.

"Well anyway, SPC Sons hit the van with HQ 17 and the First Sergeant was ejected out," SPC Melby paused with.

"…and…"  I began to inquire. 

Eyes filling with emotion, SPC Melby looked at me deeply.  "He was crushed."

Taken back at the aprupt response, my eyes glazed over and my mind went back to the First Sergeants face the last time I talked to him.  Unsnapping my Kevlar I looked into the sky, still a deep blue with a wisping of cloud cover, I stared deep into the heavens.   "I just talked to him yesterday…"  I said a loud, but no one was listening, not even me.

"Hey First Sergeant, what's up!?"  I said from my sitting position in the Bradley.

"Do some push-up's hero!"  1SG Garza proclaimed as he walked toward the rear of Head Quarters 66.  "What, you don't stand at parade rest for me anymore soldier?"

Smiling and preparing my self for the front leaning rest position I was so familiar with in the Army while doing push-ups I sarcastically responded,  "I would never forget that First Sergeant!  I mean you've tolerated me for the last 2 years in both Bravo and Head Quarters Companies."

"That's for damn sure," he said with a smile.  "Get up hero.  I wouldn't make you do push-up's in this heat… I wouldn't want you to fall out and have the commander all in my ass because I made his Gunner do some P.T. in this heat."   He chuckled and said.

"Yea, its alright First Sergeant, I need it anyway… I need to lose some weight!"

"Wow really Sergeant Henke.  If you lost anymore weight you'd blow away with the next sand storm," he continued his playful jolt.  "Now Sergeant Henke, I came over here to ask you a question…"

"Uh oh… what ever bad thing you heard me do, I didn't do First Sergeant!"

"Shud-ap--- I don't mean that!  I'm asking if you want to re-enlist."

"Hell--- no First Sergeant.  No offence toward you, but this place sucks and I have far better things to with my life."

"Like what hero?" First Sergeant Garza looked up at me as I gathered my composer after ending my short push-up P.T. session.

Digging deep into my head I tried to pick out a relevant answer, I responded quickly, "To go to school, First Sergeant!"

"Right---- to go to School Sergeant Henke."

"No really First Sergeant, to go to school."  I reinforced my point.  "I have a plan…"

After waiting me to continue, he responded once again, "And that plan would be what---?"

"Ah, well, I don't really know just yet First Sergeant, but as soon as we're out of here and my window is open, I'm out of the Army!"

"Well, Sergeant Henke, that's disappointing to hear, not the fact that you want to get out and go to school.  But the fact that you are getting out and don't really have a clear view on what you want to do…"

Feeling a little embarrassed I looked away from his intensive gaze.

"Sergeant Henke, are you going to promise me that you are going to get out of the Army and make something of yourself, and not just get out like these other dunder heads and flip burgers at Hardee's?  I mean you're an outstanding Soldier and have progressed faster then most in your peer group.  You were an outstanding Training Room NCO for me in Kosovo and had a level head that never shot you astray.  Don't disappoint me and get out because you're upset with the Army right now."

"No, negative First Sergeant, it's just that I feel like I'm being left behind and missing a part of my life in the Civilian World."

"Civilian World?  Aren't you in the Army?"

"Roger First Sergeant, but I didn't come in the Army to make a carrier of it."

"Well you seem well on your way already Sergeant Henke, you're the Battalion Commanders Gunner, a position I might add is well above your pay grade and experience, however, you showed the powers that be that you could handle such a task and was awarded the position above all the rest of the 40 some odd Gunners in the Battalion to protect the Commander.  That's a position only awarded to the best Sergeant Henke, and your it."

Taken back from the statement I was wordless to respond.

"Sergeant Henke, you'd make an outstanding student in the civilian world and I would be proud to see you succeed as you have in the Army today."  1SG Garza announced, as he looked deep into my soul.  "Tomorrow Ill be back at the TOC to bring up mail from the BSA.  I want your final answer on this whole re-enlistment dilemma.  I genuinely care about your Future Jason, and I mean that."

Still speechless I stood there in his basking wonder, questioning myself, "Why does he care?"

As if he was actually reading my mind, First Sergeant Garza ended with, "I do care about you and the other Soldiers on this Company and of this Battalion.  I don't want you to make mistakes in your life that you will be unable to sort through, so Ill lend you a day to think about it Sergeant Henke."

Clicking back into reality I responded, "Roger First Sergeant."

"It's a good goal Sergeant Henke, school and all, you'll do outstanding, however just get yourself a plan before you jump shit and get out of the Army."

"I will First Sergeant, I won't disappoint you."

"You haven't yet Sergeant Henke… see you tomorrow."

Phasing my eye sight back into the present I could see Specialist Cody Melby starring into my thoughts.  "What are looking at Sergeant?"

"Ah, nothing Melby, it's nothing; I lost my train of thought after I took off my Kevlar."

"Yea, most of us come back into reality after taking that fucking brain bucket off, you on the other hand Sergeant are a weird one."

"Yea well…" losing my thought in the words.  "Anyway, I'm going to try to track down 'Battle 6'."

"Good luck Sergeant.  Just keep us up to date with what ever you hear… alright."

"Roger that…" looking into SPC Melby's eye's I left him and positioned my Kevlar back on my head, "…roger that Specialist Melby."

My esophagus starting to constrict more and more with every step I took toward the mouth of the Hospital.  Feeling my heart beat more and more I drug myself closer and closer to the entrance of the building.  Medics from our unit clung close to their vehicle and were ever watching the movement of the soldiers stationed in the Hospital, watching and waiting for word of success or failure.

Slowly rounding myself to the entrance to the Emergency room I could barely see what was going on inside.  The sun was too bright and intense still so it block out the movement of those in the shaded interior. Hauling myself yet closer to my objective I crossed the threshold and into the cool interior of the Building.  My eyes adjusting to the ease of the darkness inside I began to observe the Doctors and medics running about in an anxious pace setting me in a more intense mood again.  Seeing their faces of concern and listening to snid bits of conversations I could hear that things were not going so well in the Operation Room.

Seeing the Battalion Commander being briefed by one of the top Doctors, I could distinguish the intensity on his face, which brought great concern to me.  Making my posture more upright and proud I headed off in his direction taking off my Kevlar.  I could feel the coolness of the atmosphere on my wet hair for the first time in ages.  My senses beginning to focus only on sight, my listening and feeling abilities took a back step for my eyes.  Walking intently toward my Commander only feet away I was stopped… not by a physical altercation, but by a single motion. 

Observing out of the corner of his eye, LTC Gillman raised his hand and palm without looking directly at me. Like hitting a wall I stepped back and was set off balance by the sudden gesture.  Seeing nothing else in the world but a raised hand and an open palm I couldn't move.  Looking deep I still saw the open palm change, however it changed into a point in direction… a direction that lead my eyes out the door and into the brightness of the exterior of the Hospital.

Knowing my place in the hierarchy, I complied without question.  Taking a slow step back I turned on my heel and started for the door.  This time in a faster pace then what brought me in.  Slipping my Kevlar on my drenched head and squeezing the last of the excess sweat in my eyes and down my face I walked blindly out into the sun, out into the unknown.

"What'd you hear Sergeant Henke, what'd they say in there…?"  A flock of soldiers crowded me suddenly, "I know you know something…"   "What did they say to you…?"  "Come on Sergeant…"  "What did the Colonel say to you…"

"I…I…I don't know…" was my only broken response to the impromptu interrogation.

"What do you mean you don't know… You're the first mother fucker in the Battalion to get gossip, and you don't know what the fucks going on in there!?"  I was met with a harsh response.

"I really don't know, I swear…"  I was still at a loss for words.

"What the fuck!  I mean they have us out here in limbo and they wont fucking tell us shit!"

"I know I know I know..." I tried to calm the mob.

"What the fuck do they know!?  There all in here behind the wire with nothing to worry about while were out there getting killed and shot at!"

"Ok… ok… ok!"  I said trying to throw water on the fire, but now knowing how volatile the situation had become while they waited; it was like drenching a grease fire in the kitchen.  Sparks were flying and catching emotions on fire all around.  "The Commander motioned for me to leave.  He was being briefed by one of the Doctors as I came up to him."

"What did he say?"  One of the dazed faces asked me intently.

"I don't know…. He motioned for me to leave before I could utter a word to him, so… I don't know."

"Blah!" The frustrated Soldier said as he threw up his hands in surrender.  "What the fuck---!"  He screamed into the heavens!  "This is such bull shit… mother fuckin BULL SHIT!"

The pack gathering in closer and closer they needed someone to dine on and that was me.  "Why don't they come out here and tell us something Sergeant Henke?  They can't keep us waiting like this!"

"I don't know…  I've told you this over and over again, I don't know anything, and I wish I did, but I DON'T!"  I lashed back at the pack with a stick as I backed away and looked for safety.  "I've got to go report up to Battle X-ray on our current status…I'll be back."

"What status Sergeant… you don't even know what's going on around here, why are you going to go use the radio?  What are you going to tell them, huh? What? Nothing, that's right, nothing…. Because you-don't-know…"

"Fuck you mother fucker," I lashed out at the other Sergeant.  "This hurts us all; we are all standing here with nothing to report.  I know about as much as you do, and you know about as much as I do.  But there's an entire Battalion of hundreds, if not a Brigade of thousands that's out there just waiting next to their radios for any kind of word... anything at all."

Standing there in place the other non-commissioned officer had nothing to reply with.  A loss for words in his own mind he just stood there staring at me, deep into me, with eyes that could cut through solid rock.  Eye's red with pain and misplaced with thought he was lost and I felt his pain.

"I'm going now…"  I started to walk slowly back.  "Ill be back after I use the radio to call Battle X-ray.  I don't intend for any of you to lose sight on the mission at hand, but, but… just sit tight, and I'll try to find out something, anything…. Trust me… Ill be back."

There was nothing more for them to do but sit and wait, but for what? 

I walked back to the HUMVE, HQ 6 with a little more shuffle in my step… kicking up dust and dirt I began to trot to the parked vehicle. Noticing that Specialist Maxey had left the Bradley and walked over to HQ 6, he was talking to Specialist Gifford when I approached from the Hospital.  Looking up from their discussion with no emotion in their eyes, not asking for answers, not wanting to question, but a stare of hopelessness, of nothingness.  If there was ever a look void of feeling, this was it.

I picked up the hand-mike and pushed the button to talk.  The loud beep of the net responding brought me out of my own stare.

"Battle X-ray, this is Battle 6 Golf, over."

"Battle 6 Golf, Battle X-ray… we need a current Sit-Rep on the situation."

(Pause)

"Battle X-ray."

(Pause)

"Battle X-ray, this is… this is, Battle 6 Golf… At the moment, there is nothing to report, break…"     "…we have brought the casualty to the MASH unit here at the BSA, break…"    "Currently we are awaiting word from the doctors on his condition, over."

"Ah, Battle 6 Golf, this is Battle X-ray, break…"   "We appreciate the report, break…"   "Give the six actual the message that the Battle 7 element is on his way to the BSA time now, break…"   "…and will be seeking the six or yourself out for further information, over."

"Battle X-ray, Battle 6 Golf, affirmative, will comply with last, break…"     "Battle X-ray I will inform the six that the seven will be here shortly, thank, out…"

Maxey and Gifford had lost their transfixed sight on me and now looked into the nothingness of their minds emotion.  Not knowing what to say, I started off back to the front of the MASH to up date the Commander.  He met me half way, face red and eyes lost in thought.

"He's gone…he's gone Jason…"

With a body blow that vibrated my inner most sanctity I looked at my Commander, LTC Gillman and asked. "Say again sir?"

Moving on with the conversation Lieutenant Colonel Gillman took it without a step or response to my question.  "Get on the net and ask for his Battle Roster number from the TOC.  We're going to need to give it to the Doctors so they can report it up to higher.  I'm going to go inform the rest of the soldiers out here."

I had only walked half the distance, about 50 meters to the front of the building where they had been working on him.  Now I had to walk that distance with knowledge of something I didn't want.  It was the longest walk I had ever taken.  I knew ISG Garza from Bravo Company when I was a Soldier there.  I had worked with him very closely in Kosovo as his Training Room NCO, did his paper work, made his coffee and talked many a long hour with him about his family and mine.  But now, now it seemed all so far away from here.  Numb to the sounds of the outside world I walked.

I didn't feel anything, not remorse, not sadness, not even a desire for revenge.  It's hard to describe the emotion of nothingness, but I was feeling it.  Nothing existed around me.  The only thing I could think about was, now I need to get the Battle Roster number for a man I had known for 3 years.  A Man of 43, with a lovely wife, 3 kids, 2 of whom were my age, was now dead, and for what?

Opening the passenger door of the HUMVE, I spilled into the seat to just stare out the windshield of the armored vehicle, not realizing that Gifford and Maxey had not moved from the spots I had left them in, Gifford in the Drivers seat and Maxey with his arms crossed over the open Drivers side window.  They stared at me, but I didn't notice.  In slow motion I picked up the hand mike with the Battalion Net on it.

"SGT Henke, no one has said anything on the net since you left 5 minutes ago.  It's been real eerie.  I mean nothing like that ever happens, there's always someone bullshitting about something on there", SPC Gifford spoke to me on a deaf ear.

"Battle X-ray, Battle X-ray, this is Battle 6 Golf, over…"

(Instant response)

"This is X-ray, go ahead OVER!

"Battle X-ray, Battle X-ray, this is Battle 6 Golf, break…"   "Battle X-ray I need some information from you, over."

"6 Golf, this is X-ray… ah, what is it that you need from us over?"

"X-ray… I need the Battle Roster Number for Head-Hunter 7, over."

(Pause)

"Say again over.  I want to make sure I heard you correctly.  You are asking for the Battle Roster number for Head Hunter 7, also known as ISG Garza? Over."

"Battle X-ray, Battle 6 Golf, ah… that's an affirmative, over"

                (Pause)

                "Roger, stand-by"

                It was then I stopped looking sightless out the front windshield and over to my two drivers.  They had been clued in on what the conversation entailed.  1SG Garza was dead as a result of his injuries on the highway.  He was gone.  And I didn't know what to say to them, how to present such information to them, face to face.  What can one say as they have just lost someone they have come to admire and respect as not only a leader, but a figure to fill in a role as parent if need be when they needed it.  He wasn't only there as a 1SG to set the standard for the company and to maintain the discipline of his soldiers, but to act as counselor when we needed it.  Someone who provided us with that extra bit of dry humor he could have only bestowed on his own soldiers.  What could I say to my own soldiers?

                …nothing needed to be said, what was done was done.

The tears in their eyes welled up.  I saw their blue eyes come to grips with what had happened, and it hurt.  They were not only my soldiers, but also my friends, they were my age.  What life experience could I draw from in order for them to feel comfort?  I was feeling it too, but something held me back.  I didn't cry, I just looked at them and said;

                "We have a mission. You know what that mission is.  We three are here to make sure that the Battalion Commander will make it through all endeavors that he faces with us.  We are also here to make sure that we three make it through the endeavors he puts us in.  So be strong."

                (Pause)

                "Yes Sergeant"

                "Roger Sergeant"

                "Ok, now let's get going. I know the Commander wants to get back to the Battalion area as soon as possible, So Maxey, get the Bradley started and ready to move out with the commanders vehicle and Gifford.  We got you guys covered."

                Walking back to the Bradley just some 30 meters to the rear of HQ 6 I tried to pace with my driver to get his current view on the situation.Europe. 

                "Maxey, what's going on?"

                "…"

                "Maxey…"

                "…"

Feeling my heart begin to rip from my chest the fortress around my soul strengthened and fought back the onslaught of the invading emotion of remorse.  Observing my driver climb silently up the front of the Bradley and into his Drivers hatch I could finally see his face and his state of mind.  This time I could read what was going on, I could see the torment on his face, but still no response toward me, just action.

Still fighting back the invaders to my soul I rounded the corner of Headquarters 66, the ramp down I entered only to notice a new occupant.  Staff Sergeant Thompson, one of our Battalions top medics.  Still dabbled in Blood, from head to toe, smeared on his face and cloths it had hardened and dried to deep reddish purple. With a tear filled face he asked one question, and one question only.  "Why?"

Taken back by the sudden scare of the individual in my vehicle and the question he had waiting for me I was stunted and speechless.

"SSG Thompson, are you alright…"

"No…"  Was the response as his walls came falling down around his heart.  The tears started to flow and the wincing pain took over his face.

Standing there with nothing to say, and not knowing how to handle the surprise on my door step, I stood there.

Not thinking of anything to say my mouth spoke without the permission of my mind, "Are you alright Sergeant?"  My body bust from its rigid stature and broke consent with my psyche to lean in and comfort the pained friend of mine.  "I don't know why Sergeant…. I really don't, sorry…"  There was nothing more I could do, or say.

"Sergeant Henke…"came the chocked voice of my Driver, Specialist Cody Maxey.  "Sergeant Henke…the Commander is giving the hand signal of 'move out' Sergeant.  I think were going to be leaving now…"

"Roger that Maxey… start her up and prepare to raise the ramp in a minute.

"…"

"SSG Thompson, I need to go.  Ill meet up with you at the Battalion TOC when you guys get back.  The Commander and I are leaving now…"

With no spoken response, SSG Thompson drug his body heavily out of the chair that I was eating lunch in a few hours before and began to walk down the ramp of the Bradley.  At that moment HQ 66 started up and began to hum and vibrate under its own massive power.  Looking out over my shoulder I took off my Kevlar and placed my M-4 down on the floor of the Turret.  Seeing SSG Thompson sluggishly walk away I yelled out, "Maxey, the ramp is clear, raise it!"  With that the light became dark, and the armored ramp closed me into the safety of my Bradley.

Driving back to the Battalion TOC was the most silent ride of my life.  It was only a short distance that would take us 20 minutes to return to, but it seemed like an eternity.  Making our way once again through the western gate we had a new mission to accomplish now that we were home. 

Stopping at Bravo Company the Commander exited his vehicle to give a briefing to CPT Neumeire, the Commander of Bravo Company and associate of First Sergeant Garza.  The news was about as jeering to him when the Battalion Commander told him as it was when he heard me ask for the Battle Roster number over the Battalion Net.  Taking our time at Bravo Company, my old company, Maxey and I never moved from our positions in the Bradley, silently we waited.  My friends from my old company were mingling around their areas just now getting the word.   The news affecting them in different ways, some stood in silence, some began to cry , it was different for everyone.

Standing there in the Turret, with half my body exposed out, I had one hand on a radio hand-mike and another bracing myself on the Bradley. Looking deeply off into the horizon I noticed the colors changing as the sun sunk deeper and deeper.  Pinks and purples deepened while the higher colors still strung out in blues and tans.  We began to travel; with out an order Specialist Maxey knew to stay with the Commander as he moved out.  I was a passenger again and was riding along to a destination, the Battalion TOC.  Looking over my shoulder me company disappeared in the dust of our wake.  Without a word we vanished into the deeper portions of the Battalion Area.

Making our way into the gated TOC area we saw the numerous soldiers lining the edge of the road toward the center Headquarters.  With looks of concern all over their harden faces they looked to me for answers, what happened, how it happened, why did it happen?  I could hear them all in my mind, but what could I say, how can I say it?

Parking up in our defensive spot just meters from the Headquarters the ramp came down, the engine shut off and my Driver's hatch flung slowly up into place.  Like clock work, it was routine by now when ever we stopped.  I slumped back into the turret and disarmed my weapons, turned off the computer.  The main power remained on so we could listen to the radio nets, but nothing was being said.  I took off my CVC and sat it on the seat as I sat on the floor, crunched in the turret.  Not moving I stayed there, that is until my compatriot Sergeant Marangelli rounded the corner and placed his foot on the ramp.    Looking at me from behind his Kevlar he spoke, "So… what's up?"

Rolling my eyes I slid my butt out of the turret at crouched my body in order to walk through the cramped compartment to stand on the Ramp just outside.  Taking a deep breath in and stretching my body out I brought my glance down to SGT Marangelli's eyes, "Bull shit is what happened John, mother fuckin bull shit!"

"Major Desjardin said that there was going to be formation in about thirty minutes with Captain Watkins.  He's going too address the rest of the company here at the TOC."

Glancing about I saw soldiers walking in silence all about me.  Taking my glare to the Headquarters I could see one of my Soldiers, SPC Lovejoy crying and walking out of the TOC making a B-line for some safe place away from the radios.  "Look's like they just told Lovejoy…"  I said in a lost tone.

Following my gaze Sergeant Marangelli grunted in an approved response.  Then feeling his eyes come to me again he said, "So how's Maxey taking it?"

Bringing my watchful eyes away from where SPC Lovejoy had run off to and down to the ground I responded.  "He hasn't said a thing to me since we arrived at the accident."  Still looking down I shook my head in disparagement.  "I don't know what to say to him.   I just know I have to say something."   Looking back at Sergeant Marangelli I was looking for advisement.

"Well I'm in the same ship you are.  We both have been in the Army the same amount of time and have done the same amount of shit.  I wouldn't know where to start…"  SGT Marangelli ended with.

Sitting down on the edge of the ramp, Sergeant Marangelli took off his Kevlar and joined me there.  Sitting there in silence we waited for formation.  It could have been in 5 minutes, it could have been in 5 days; we sat there, and waited, silently.  Not knowing what to say to anyone, or each other, we sat there and reinforced our parapets and walls surrounding us.

Dazed and still confused, the soldiers of my current company, Head Quarters Company gathered around the rear of my Bradley to form lines and platoons.  Not wanting to fall-in I reluctantly found a place in the rear and stood at attention with my Kevlar on my head and my weapon slung on my shoulder.

"FALL-IN!"  Was the order from Captain Watkins.  "Alright men.  I'm going to fall you out and then I want you to fall in around me a take up a horse shoe formation… Fall—out!"

                Everyone gathered. It was at that point he broke what had happened on the highway.  Not in gory detail, but in facts about the situation and what had gone arise with the convoy.  He then went on to say some few but good words about ISG Garza.  It was then he locked eyes with me and mentioned, not to me per say, but to everyone. 

"He touched our lives in many ways and on many levels…"

It was then that the flood gates opened up and the blinding tears of remorse and tragedy came to overflow the levies of my mind.  I couldn't stop.  I didn't know what to do but stand there… and let them go.  My face hot with emotion, I cried.  For the first time in months, I cried.  I was still human and I could express emotions.  Up till then I was a stone figure hard in the minds of my soldiers, peers and superiors alike. That all cracked and crumbled away, and I didn't care.  This was my tragedy as well.  How could this happen?  How could ISG Garza be dead?

Breaking from my the semi circle formation I turned around and flung my Kevlar in the Troop Compartment of my Bradley making a loud trashing noise as it tumbled about on the hard medal floor boards.  No one stopping me I threw my M-4 to join its compatriot, my Kevlar on the floor of the Bradley.  "Why---?" I cried out, "Why!"

Sniveling and blindly walking to the front HQ 66 I tried to hide from the other soldiers in my company, I tried to hide from my soldier, my friends and all the others in my life, I just wanted to find a hole and bury myself in it.  It hurt, and hurt down to the deepest chasms of my soul effecting my on all levels.

I stood there looking into the sky for answers, but there was nothing.  I was alone once again, amongst so many others, but I was so alone in my life.  More then seven thousand miles from home I could have been on a whole other planet, I was alone and didn't know what to do…