I had a couple of incidents in Iraq. On my first tour, while at Camp Liberty, I was awakened by the sound of my father's voice screaming at me to get up. "GET THE F#ck UP!" I was fully awake and shaking from his scream, when I found myself standing in the middle of my hootch. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of the mortar round exiting the tube, and dropped to the floor. The mortar barrage came in, but neither me nor my soldiers were hurt. My father had been dead for nine years at that point, but had visited me in my dreams many times. He did have a foul mouth, but usually saved the "F-word" for special occasions. I think this one qualified.
On my second tour in Iraq, again on Camp Liberty. There were many times I picked up "feelings" as I went to different places around the camp. Liberty is on the grounds of Saddam's hunting grounds and the place of many atrocities. His son's had their own "cabins" which they did as they pleased. I'm also sure that many of my brothers and sisters in arms frequent the camp they came from.
It happened on one of the few nights I was actually going to get some real sleep. In the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of my door opening. I reached for my pistol and as I turned and saw a soldier in full battle rattle (full vest, helmet and rifle for the civilian readers) enter my trailer. Oblivious to me he put his rifle down and sat on the bed. I felt the bed settle under his weight. I pulled my pistol free of my holster and jumped up. He disappeared in front of me as I brought the weapon around on him. I was so shaken; I didn't sleep the rest of the night and shortly returned to work. I was surprised I had not wet my pants.
There were a few other nights I had "feelings", which prevented me from sleeping, but none as vivid as that night. I pray for the souls of those that wander in that far away place. May God bring them to the peace through those that love and miss them.
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