A very unique relationship is forged in the friction of conflict. Being placed in a hostile foreign land can introduce an overwhelming sensation of helplessness. As we would pass vast stretches of open desert, a feeling of destitution always lingered. My truck—much like an island—was a small piece of familiar territory. In the distance I could see other islands sitting at equal intervals, stretching off into the distance. Our convoy was a ribbon of dots winding through an ocean of sand.
The realization that you are utterly alone in a hostile country can be frightening. Nothing seems familiar in these places. The noises, smells, languages—everything is unusual and foreign. The only thing that we have to anchor ourselves to is one another.
Rarely is your entire physical wellbeing placed in the hands of the people to your left and right. This intense dependency on one another is amplified during combat deployments. When something bad happens there is no time-out, no take-backs, no redo’s. Conflict is written in blood, and that is simply the uncomfortable truth. But only in this language of sacrifice, can the true words of brotherhood be spoken.
In short I owe my life, many times over, to a group of random individuals. This group of tested veterans is now an extended family, over a decade later.
Everyone is familiar with the term, “blood is thicker than water”, and it most certainly is. However, the blood that bonds Marines is not of a filial origin. It is of sacrifice and loyalty.
Everyday Iraq 