I grew out my beard. I grew out my stomach. My ears ring randomly. My eyes see things differently. I speak or say less. I move in silence. I sleep in when I want. I haven't touched razors since my return nor rifles since the field ops. I've grown in maturity mentally. I've grown insensitive verbally. I've grown to miss the uniform and pride of belonging in a brotherhood; I miss my extended family. I miss the people, not the troubles. I miss the gym, where others alike flexed invisible muscles. My days once had routine, pattern, structure and rhythm. Weekends full of workouts, worship, and beer. Weeks full of work, blood, sweat, and tears. I've grown in experience. I've regained freedom as a civilian. But the transition has been a grueling process. Yet, I've grown to be grateful nonetheless, as not everyone gets to go back "home" ... (remember the fallen) ... However, if I'm honest, I don't think there's ever an actual adjustment... [I'm growing]
XLIII. Adapt and Overcome - The life of a Veteran - Random reflection
Whenever I'm in pain I just whisper "I'm a Marine I'm a Marine I'm a Marine" Because Marines are the strongest The first to fight The few, the proud I can't wait until I claim the title And live up to my name But before that, I believe I am a Marine And the pain always lessens
Sometimes I need to write to keep my mind at ease If I don't, my hands get shaky like the last leaf on the tree Marksmanship is not necessary when shooting the breeze Daydreaming until reality is just an illusion to me
Sometimes I need to write to keep me level and grounded If I don't, I start hearing voices Then my head gets crowded I follow the lead whoever is the loudest United States of Jeff Population is countless
Sometimes I need to write to mind my own business If I don't, my body starts twitching Swinging on anyone within one arms distance Please pray every day we never cross those bridges For those that won't listen a fair warning was written
Sometimes the flashbacks Can be picture perfect like a gallery Every once in a while I struggle with what life's like actually As the memories resonate Depression eventually catches me It always baffled me and still rattles me Why did my best friend have to be a casualty
I'm setting my GPS as I pull down the street For Arlington Cemetery in Washington D.C. Whenever I feel the need I just sit there with him No reason to speak I let the ground beneath me relieve some of the grief Then just before I leave I about face and say You'll always be with me Semper Fi my brother Rest in peace Marine
Four Marines lost their lives to what is being called domestic terrorism. Some sicko with a gun shoots these guys. One of the dead is just 19 years old. I did not cry because I was sad that four American men lost their lives to violence. I cried because for the first time, I'm so glad that you're in Japan, so glad that you're so far away. I'm so glad you're alive.
I hate this. We lose mere children in uniform every day. And I'm always thankful that it's not mine instead of sorrowful to think that they were someone else's.