Back story

Me getting geared up for a mission - 2004

First my goal is to talk about my life as veteran and as a (kind of) athlete.  I do tend to ramble and get off subject, or periodically jump on my soap box about something, but this is my life, my story, and my passions.

So I mentioned in the first post that I had PTSD, guess a lot of my story starts there.  In March 2003 I was deployed in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.  I was stationed in Baghdad, Iraq from May 2003 until May 2004.  I know I didn't have the hardest tour in the world, but it definitely was not an easy year.  I turned 19 years old sitting in Kuwait, waiting for orders to go to Iraq as a part of the 143d Military Police Detachment.  We were a Law and Order unit, trained specifically for state side garrison work.  I enlisted July 2001, as in before the 9/11 terrorist attacks.  I joined the Montana National Guard to serve my country, but mostly to support my state.  I planned on years of helping with summer forrest fires and spring floods.  Never did I imagine my ass would land in combat...

I ended up working the year as a M249 humvee gunner.  Basically my job was to be the eyes and ears of the convoy.  Our detachment ran in two and three truck convoys, our main mission was to help re-build the Baghdad police department.  We were outside of the wire nearly everyday, running around town to meetings and police stations.  Our detachment had many close calls, and had a few of our own injured.  I had several friends critically wounded throughout the year, every time it tore my apart.  Our battalion had suffered one combat related death, SPC Michelle Witmer.  I didn't know her, but I knew her two sisters who were also serving in Iraq at the same time.  Michelle was the same age and rank as me, from a small town like me, and working as a gunner the night she was killed.  Her death shook my to my core.  I will never forget the day we learned about it, or her memorial service, or her family.  

During the last few weeks of our tour my squad finally ran out of luck and was hit an IED.  We were coming back from the Baghdad International Airport to our camp along the famous IED Alley, Route Irish when it happened.  I don't remember a hole lot.  But I remember looking at my hands to see if they were still there, I remember not wanting to look down into the truck below me, afraid of what might have happened.  But we got lucky, no major injuries (which I attribute to the up armored trucks we had just got)  We had some truck damage and flat tires.  The gunner in the second truck, Jensen, sustained some cuts from shrapnel.  As we got out of that situation, I knew something was wrong with me, but wasn't sure what.  As the adrenaline wore off my shoulder started to hurt, bad.  My forearm and thumb would not stop spasming.  After a few days of obnoxious muscle spasms my hand just went numb.  I stayed and finished the last few weeks of our tour.  It wasn't until I was home (and still with a lot of pain in my arm and no feeling in my hand) that I learned I had separated my shoulder and crushed the nerves in my shoulder, elbow and wrist.  Years later I also learned that I must have suffered a concussion that day too, as I struggle with cognitive issues and chronic migraines from a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).  I also suffer from PTSD as a result of many situations I faced that year.  I have struggled with severe depression and anxiety, as well as a host of other problems.  As a result of that day I was awarded the Purple Heart and Combat Action Badge.

Well, that's enough for now... it's kind of the ground work for the rest of my story.