CPT Tyler

The purpose of me writing this blog was to keep my family and friends informed of what in the hell I’m doing over here (although I find that I ask myself that question more and more lately). I try not to get too serious about things because despite my best attempts to keep things light, one can’t ignore the fact that we are in a war zone. The day my convoy left Rabea’a for Sykes we had a report of a giant tanker explosion near Tal Afar / Sinjar area that took the lives of hundreds of innocent civilians and wounded countless others. Empty seats on my convoy were taken by translators who had family in the vicinity of the blast and they were desperately asking the military to take a break in their mission and help them get to their homes in order to check on loved ones (which Brent and his men did without question). Four days ago a Blackhawk went down north of here and killed 14 soldiers, one of which was a ’99 grad by the name of Captain Corry Tyler. He was a plebe when I was a senior, and while the only things we had in common was that we shared a year at the academy together, his death gave me reason to pause. He was serving in his third tour in Iraq of which he didn’t have to do. He volunteered for this tour and at the time of his death, he only had 2 more months to go before returning back to the states and his family. It is a sad story, not just for him, but also for the 13 others who lost their lives in the crash. Reading the entries of his eulogy, he seemed like a good guy and a great officer which made me regret that I didn’t know him. Every death here is tragic and I’m not sure why Corry’s death hit me hard enough to convince me to actually write about it. Maybe it’s because there has been a lot on my mind lately (and a lot of events that I don’t or can’t write about) and things like this make me stop and ponder if I’m really doing any good here and why so many people like Corry chose to stay here in harms way. Individuals like him make me feel like I am truly surrounded by countless heroes who ironically don’t want to be heroes. They just want to do their job, a job they believe in, and then be allowed to go home. It makes me sad that he was taken away from his family and confused about why it happened, but it also makes me glad to be alive. I feel slightly guilty about that last part and I’m not sure why. It has compounded the feelings stacking up lately as I reflect on my life, my purpose and what I want to do after this whole deployment thing is over. I won’t delve much deeper than that. I will say that I struggle to realize if any of my daily efforts help soldiers or Iraqis here. In the meantime, I’m still waiting for that “ah-ha” moment that will bring clarity to my mission and justify the call to give 545 days of my life in service to the nation. I thought I would get that feeling once I got back to the IZ and could start sending support to the port I just visited. Turns out it won’t be that easy of a task, especially when everyone wants to give excuses of why they can’t help instead of actually trying. I hope I don't get that bitter.

Link to CPT Corry Tyler's eulogy
http://www.west-point.org/users/usma1999/56491/

God bless him, the soldiers in the Blackhawk with him, and their families.


By the way, I’m now officially one third of the way through my deployment. I’m at the 120 day mark today, which is just shy of four months. I’m trying to keep my head up and focus on the mission, but it's hard not to think about the next break (only two weeks away) which will be my first four day “pass” from theater. I’m looking forward to a short vacation from the routine here, but I wish I was going home on my two weeks of leave instead.

I promise the next blog entry won't be so glum.