Part 48 (1/2)

While he was deployed, he wrote letters to be delivered to the kids and me if he died. After the first deployment, I asked to read whatever he had written, and he said he didn't have it anymore. After that he never offered them up and I never asked to see them.

Maybe it was just because I was mad at him, but I thought to myself, We are not glorifying this after you're dead. If you feel loving and adoring, you better let me know while you're alive.

Maybe it wasn't fair, but a lot of life then wasn't fair and that's the way I felt.

Show me now. Make it real. Don't just say some sappy s.h.i.+t when you're gone. Otherwise, it's a load of c.r.a.p.

GUARDIANS AND DEVILS

Ninety-six Americans were killed during the battle of Ramadi; countless more were wounded and had to be taken from the battlefield. I was lucky not to be one of them, though there were so many close calls I began to think I had a guardian angel.

One time we were in a building and we were hosed down by the insurgents outside. I was out in the hallway, and as the shooting died down, I went into one of the rooms to check on some of my guys. As I came in, I jerked straight back, falling backward as a shot came in through the window at my head.

The bullet flew just over me as I fell.

Why I went down like that, how I saw that bullet coming at me-I have no idea. It was almost as if someone had slowed time down and pushed me straight back.

Did I have a guardian angel?

No idea.

”f.u.c.k, Chris is dead,” said one of my boys as I lay on my back.

”d.a.m.n,” said the other.

”No, no,” I yelled, still flat on the floor. ”I'm good, I'm good. I'm okay.”

I checked for holes a few dozen times, but there were none.

All good.

IEDs were much more common in Ramadi than they had been in Fallujah. The insurgents had learned a lot about setting them since the beginning of the war, and they tended to be pretty powerful-strong enough to lift a Bradley off the ground, as I'd found out earlier in Baghdad.

The EOD guys who worked with us were not SEALs, but we came to trust them as much as if they were. We'd stick them on the back of the train when we went into a building, then call them forward if we saw something suspicious. At that point, their job was to identify the b.o.o.by-trap; if it was a bomb, and we were in a house, we would have gotten the h.e.l.l out of there fast.

That never happened to us, but there was one time when we were in a house and some insurgents managed to plant an IED right outside the front door. They had stacked two 105-mm sh.e.l.ls, waiting for us to come out. Fortunately, our EOD guy spotted it before we moved out. We were able to sledgehammer our way out through a second-story wall and escape across a low roof.

A WANTED MAN

All Americans were wanted men in Ramadi, snipers most of all. Reportedly, the insurgents put out a bounty on my head.

They also gave me a name: al-Shaitan Ramadi-”the Devil of Ramadi.”

It made me feel proud.

The fact is, I was just one guy, and they had singled me out for causing them a lot of damage. They wanted me gone. I had to feel good about that.