A soldiers letter

I thought about hyperlinking this letter,
but felt like no one would take the time to read it that way.
It is a STRONG letter. Please take the time to read it.

0920 15 NOVEMBER 2004 IRAQ
Mom & Dad,It is with a heavy heart that I write this. Yesterday marked one month since we left home. Yesterday was one of the hardest days of my life. Yesterday we laid to rest a brother in arms. He was just a kid, only 20, from Maryland. He was in B company, I didn't know him well, but I'd seen him around. He was the first KIA in 'Duece Four' in this war and, make no mistake, war it is. I couldn't tell you about him until after his family had been notified. At 1400 yesterday the memorial service took place. The most difficult part was when his First Sergeant called the final roll. The First Sergeant called the names of each member of his squad and each answered in turn. Then his name was called once, no response. Twice, no response. A third time, no response. Then 'Taps' began to play accompanied by the '21 gun salute'. We then filed by his helmet atop his rifle, dog tags hanging from it, all of this behind his boots and a picture of him, and each of us, individualy, turned to his equipment and rendered a final salute.
I know this is probably harder for you to read than it was for me to write, hard to believe though it is. There are some things I have been putting off saying, something I can no longer do. I am a SOLDIER. I am sworn to protect and defend and I will do that until my last breath, be it in the military or after, that is my calling. I have no desire to lose my life, but it is a price I am willing to pay for 'putting foot to ass' for my country in the name of freedom. I love you all more than life itself, that's why I'm here.Mosul is a cesspool of insurgents, they will give us no peace. [D]aily we bring the fight to their door. Before yesterday, even though we were here, it still wasn't real. We were still shooting at 'pop up targets' that can't hit back. Now they hit back. They screwd up. Our innocence is gone. We will fight with honor and obey the laws of war. We will go out of our way to help the innocent, but there will be no mercy for those who rise up against us or against their countrymen, for them hell will be unleashed.
I'm sorry that these things needed to be said, but you needed to know in case they ever call my final roll. I love and miss you all very much and I WILL be home before you know it. All my love, Dustin.

In class I was innocently looking through a ton of letters, and I couldn't find any that really hit home. I wanted a letter that would mean something, not only to me, but to Mr. Kunkle when he read it. I was having a difficult time and thought I should just pick the first three after that.

I came across it, and knew I wanted to use it right away.

It is about a young boy who is fighting over in Iraq. It seems like he is scared out of his mind, and needs some support from his family back home. I think the main reason he writes is because something bad happen. He experienced the first loss over there(it may not have been someone he knew, but a death is a death, and im sure everyone in our school was touched by the three suicides in our school. you may not have known them, but seeing people sad, loosing someone, it still is hard.) I think that is why I felt so passionate about this letter.

I feel for this guy. He is experiencing something that many people will not.
Soldiers are over there missing home, missing family but doing it for us.
God Bless our Soldiers.

Censoredddd

Have I ever been censored?

hhhmm. this is an interesting question.

Yes, as a mater of fact, I have.

I grew up in a family of seven, me being the youngest of 5 kids.

Naturally, my brothers and sisters thought it was hilarious to make me swear.

(I was such an innocent kid!) but the catch was if I didn't swear, they'd tell mother I did.



My oldest brother Pat was the worst! I was probably the closest to him. We'd go shopping and he'd come hang out with me, even though we are so far apart in age. I grew up constantly yelling at him, "Stop using the F-Bomb!" thats what we'd call it.



Time went by, and I grew up and these words started to become more of my vocabulary.

He started going to this church where swearing seemed to be the end of the world.

One Christmas Eve, the whole family was over. It was odd enough that no one seems to like eachother these days, but everyone being so different was the hardest thing.

Pat: The church guy.
Joe: The "Bad ass".
Emily: The worried mother.
Alex: Head in the clouds.
Me: Innocent little sister.

I didn't know that I was no longer aloud to say "Damn" or "Hell" because my 27-year-old brother would be offended.

I was always snapped on, and felt like I was five-years-old again, when someone hears you say something "naughty" and you have to go sit on a time out.

I was almost 18. It had gotten a little ridiculous.

The guy who taught me what those words ment, the one who forced me to say them was the one treating me like a five-year-old.