The inner feelings of the outer me.

I remember rolling down the MSR with the doors off of the Humvee, the sun beating down on my skin. The hot breeze, drying the salty sweat that was pouring out of my face. The breeze actually felt nice. I could feel my heart pounding. Turned at a ninety in the passenger seat, with my legs hanging out the side of the vehicle. My rifle almost felt as if it were an extension of my arms. A part of me, as if it too, the moment I picked it up, my energy, made it a part of who I was. The cheap plastic barrel guard was dirty, sticky from sweat and partially held together by masking tape. The sling was dingy and worn, and had a length that would fit a small child.



My eyes scanned every single building. From mudcrete houses, to street-side shops that resembled the lemonade stand that I had while growing up in Saginaw. The pressure from my helmet was almost unbearable, and the chinstrap rubbed my freshly growing facial hair to the point of an itchy, sweaty rash. The occasional sound of distant small arms fire broke up the monotony of the howl from the tires. The weight of my body armor was making my back stiff and had a smell that could kill a person. While taking a deep breath to calm my nerves a bit, a nauseating odor filled my nose, comparable to the smell of burning oil, feces, and last weeks lunch. I could literally feel my stomach on the verge of purging itself.



As we drive through a small village, young boys run along side our now creeping convoy, holding their hands up with their fingers in a "V". I wasn't sure if they meant "Peace" or "Victory", either way, the only thing they really wanted was my MRE. The feeling you get when you go through a town at slow speeds, so slow, you have to exit the vehicle to provide security for the convoy, is a life changing, mind-numbing experience. It's almost like staring death in the eyes and saying " Bring it on."



With my rifle at the ready, I thumb the safety, memorizing and knowing it's position, just by the way it feels on my perspiring thumb. I try to stay focused, but my mind wanders. Naturally. I remind myself of happier times. Memories of my then fiancee, now wife, friends and family, a nice day at the beach, a cold beer. But it quickly reverts back to the current situation.