A Marine who was lucky to have come home from Afghanistan laments the loss of three of his buddies (including his best friend) on this Memorial Day. He is still haunted by nightmares in which he saw his friends killed by enemy fire.
Memorial Day, Monday, May 30, 2005~
Dear DiShon~
God, I miss you, buddy! I think of you (and all of our military personnel on this day of rememberance), and I get instant cold chills as my mind travels back to Afghanistan a few years back in which you were killed in front of my eyes. I don't think I will ever get past the horror of seeing the grenade going off and body parts flying; and now, as a result, I am emotionally scarred and changed forever.
Why did you have to die in such a horrific way? Why was it you and Charlie and Ricardo? Why couldn't it have been ME that died? You were all just nineteen, maybe 20, you had your entire lives ahead of you; but thanks to an enemy's hatred, you paid the ultimate sacrifice with your lives; and God mercifully called you all home to Glory! Now, I will never see you again except at the cemetary where you all are buried, and I will never hear your corny jokes, eat your famous cooking, or put up with your annoying habits ever again. You were more than my coherts in fighting the enemy: you were my buddies, and we got along so well we were more like BUDDIES than friends!
Remember during basic training when we would try to pull one over on ol' SourPuss? He may have been the MS, but he was a big pain in the ass, and sometimes he got what he deserved (although we DID get caught a few times and ended up in extra KP duty)! Remember the time when Charlie put shaving cream on some of our bunkmates' faces while they were asleep, and we had a good laugh about that when they'd wake up, shaving cream all over their faces, and they'd start cussing to beat the band? Remember the disgusting food rations and the slop in the mess hall that they called "good food"? Remember the time when we were at attention and it was hotter than hell out and some of the guys bit the dust, and yet, despite our fallen comrades, the rest of us had to stand at full attention until old SourPuss called for parade rest? Remember the time when we first saw our loved ones after basic training and how they flipped out when they first saw us in our Marine uniforms and the pride bursting inside our chests as we realized that we were now Marines? Oh, those were the days, my friends; and now I sit here, with tears streaming down my face, remembering, reflecting, and pausing to keep your memories alive on this most important and somber holiday.
DiShon, I wish you were still here. I loved your family so very much, and they still wonder and ask "WHY?" I see your once-beautiful wife, Charla, looking more like an old woman as she deals with your passing, and struggle to raise three small sons on her own. Your mother and father seem to have aged in the year that you left us, and now they look more like old people than middle-agers. I see your grandfather (your grandmother has since passed; she died not long after you did; your death took a huge toll on her health, and she went downhill, fast), and it is obvious by the pain in his eyes just how much he still misses you. I also see the face of my own wife, M'Buti, and she loved you, too, just as much as me. She still doesn't understand why you had to die in the way you did, but you would be proud of her. Remember how sick she was last year? Well, she is still struggling with her health, but she is now a working woman, and a working mother: she and I now have six children all under the age of eight (including a set of twins AND a set of triplets, in addition to our big boy, Jubaki, who will be SEVEN this June!), and life is very good for our family. I wish you could see M'Buti today: the change in her is nothing short of miraculous, and she still misses you horribly (as I do).
Well, Buddy DiShon, I must go now; I can hardly see for all the tears that are pouring from my eyes as I stand here at the cemetary and wait for the memorial service to begin. I will let you go now; I will never forget you, and I will always remember our bond that we forged while we were still in basic training. You will always live on in my heart and soul, and I will always remember, not only you, but Charlie and Ricardo! God bless you, Buddy, and thank you for your friendship! You were a true friend, and all I can say on this Memorial Day is this: God bless you, Ricardo, and Charlie, and thank you for dying so that America--and Americans--could remain free! You paid the ultimate sacrifice, and I will always remember!
Most sincerely, your buddy, Roberto Sormiento (U.S. Marine Corps., Retired, "Semper Fi"). :( >tears<
An illustrated developmental history of the American military chemical and biological protective respirator for use against war agents, this work provides photographs of actual respirator specimens and several useful appendices, in addition to its en
Armageddon, a fact-based historical novel, is the third book of The First Strike Trilogy: A high-stakes race against time and politics unfolds in this gripping historical account of SIOP-62, revisit the tension of a pending nuclear attack, at a time
Memorial Day, Monday, May 30, 2005~
