When you first get back you’re filled with overwhelming emotion- anger. I guess it’s natural after being on edge for so long, but sometimes it’s a struggle to come to grips with civilian life. You’re angry that your friends are getting killed or wounded over there. And angry that country you sacrificed for, sometimes forgets that it’s fighting a war. Now that I’m back, and we know there were no weapons of mass destruction, and there was no inmate threat from the regime we toppled, I’m left questioning, whether or not we defended our country. That’s hard to deal with.

As a veteran, one of the first things you have to learn about life after combat, is the power of friction. Dealing with the trivial nature of everyday life, is difficult. And sorting out what you experienced over there can feel like it’s impossible. You live in a sort of limbo where everything gravitates towards certainty, chaos and disorder.

It doesn’t matter how many times I rewind my tapes, it won’t bring anybody back, so I pay my respects in honor of those we lost because now, that’s all I can do. It’s all any of us who were over there can do. But sometimes, for me, that’s just not enough. I know most people couldn’t understand, regardless of what I have been through, if they called me-
I’d go back. Not for the president. Not for the country. But for the Corps. Because the truth is, once you’ve experienced it, war defines who you are. I’m a Marine. Right now, that’s all I can trust.