Truly Gone and Back Again

This month marked the fourth anniversary of my return from Iraq. I don't talk about it much, but as the years pass, I find myself able to process my experiences a little more each day.

The first hurdle that I faced in re-entering my life was the anger I felt. I couldn't help but ask in vain why I had gone through what I had. I needed to feel that the sacrifices I made and the greater ones I witnessed served a purpose.

My four years at home have allowed me some convalescence but I read a story in the Houston Chronicle that revived the rage I thought time had relieved me of.

The picture at the top of this post is of Marcus Luttrell, a former Navy SEAL and author of Lone Survivor: The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10.

Luttrell served in Afghanistan as part of Operation Redwing, a mission designed to capture Ahmad Shah, a member of the Taliban and leader of the insurgent "Mountain Tigers." Luttrell was the only member of his SEAL team, the lead component of Operation Redwing.

Luttrell talks about not sleeping well because of his need to remain alert throughout the night. When the sun goes down, Lutrell's hyper-vigilance takes over and he performes the same security checks that his training taught him.

Petty Officer Luttrell returned home in 2006 and received a bouncing yellow Lab that he named "Dasy"- an acronym for the names of his fallen SEALs. The dog was given with the hopes of easing the transition home and helping Luttrell to cope with the loss of his comrades.

On April 1st, the hyper-vigilance that fed Luttrell's insomnia forced him to witness another tragedy. A shot broke the stillness that Luttrell failed to trust. He moved without forcing a thought, sweeping the house and checking on his mother. Slipping outside, Marcus found Dasy, now four years old, dead from a gunshot wound. The thirty-three year old, recently released from his latest surgery, stalked through his property with a pistol.

He spotted Dasy's killers twenty-five yards away. They were four young men in a parked sedan. Luttrell circled the car unseen, raised his pistol and trained in on one of them and... never pulled the trigger.

Instead, he jumped in his four-door truck and chased the men through three counties at speeds reaching a hundred miles per hour. While at the wheel, Marcus called 911 and urged the operator to dispatch police. Eventually, the men were caught and two of them now face charges of animal cruelty. *

The sadness of Lutrell's losses, home and abroad, are staggering. What is truly remarkable about this story however is Luttrell's restraint. I cannot imagine a jury in Texas that would not have sided with Luttrell had he pulled the trigger. But he didn't. And now that the killer's have been apprehended and investigated, Luttrell has moved away.

Luttrell said in his interview with the Chronicle that the attack on Dasy pushed him to a place where he doesn’t want to be.

“I was trying to talk myself out of being who I am,” he said. “Talking to myself about not doing the one thing I am good at.” *

For many veterans, the journey back is just that, a journey with no destination. The wounds are dressed with loose sutures and home is a place infrequently occasioned because inevitably, minds wander back to the sand.

I hope that Marcus finds the strength to start the journey home again.



* from Survivor of war loses dog to random violence, Houston Chronicle April 9, 2006.