Marines Move On, Never Forget

May 26, 2008— -- It started with a cell phone message on the fifth anniversary of the Marines taking Baghdad. It was from former Cpl. Michael Elliot, one of the Marines in the Fox 2/5 unit I've been embedded with in Iraq on several occasions since the invasion in 2003.

The message was typical Elliot -- upbeat, positive about the future, and his way of keeping our relationship alive. Knowing from our previous contacts that he had been treated for post traumatic stress disorder the past two years, the message was all the more reassuring, and was the impetus for my checking in with some of the other Marines I had been with.

During my first assignment with Fox 2/5 in 2003, the unit was involved in a civilian tragedy at a hastily erected road block on the outskirts of Baghdad. Ten civilians were killed, four of them children. It remains one of Elliot's most haunting memories.

Elliot wrote about the experiences that haunted him in his journal. "My thoughts and opinions are changing every day. Last night, a bus tried to breach our barricade, and we shot at the bus until it went off the road, killing almost everyone inside. When we move down the streets, we shoot at anything that moves. I even killed three people yesterday. I didn't see their weapons, and I didn't hesitate to look for them."

When Elliot was eventually diagnosed with PTSD, he was put on an 85 percent veteran's disability. He was initially so reluctant to get treatment he confessed to driving out to the VA hospital for nearly a year and sitting in the parking lot before mustering the courage to share his problems with professionals.

Now Elliot works at a foster home for abused children. They, too, have a tough time sleeping through the night as they deal with their demons.

"They have seen some of the things I've seen. Maybe they haven't been in combat or witnessed those types of situations, but they have had family violence and things that have severely traumatized them. And having had my own personal trauma, I can help treat them. They can understand where I've been, and I can understand them and be more effective in their treatment," Elliot said.

Recuperating After a Devastating Injury

For some of the older Marines, such as Gunnery Sgt. Jack Sigman, the novelty of living in the desert and preparing for war wore thin as the diplomatic ultimatums played out before the invasion. I went back with Sigman and Fox 2/5 for their second tour of duty in 2004-05 to a war they thought they had won and was over for them and the Iraqis.

"On the second go around there wasn't nearly as much confidence that the Iraqi person on the street was exactly who he pretended to be," Sigman said. "There'd be Mr. Joe nodding his head and waving at you. Tonight he might be the guy shooting at you."

Sigman was one of the unlucky ones. "An RPG [rocket propelled grenade] was fired a hundred meters behind me and came up, hit me in my calf and detonated in my calf."

My last contact with Sigman was while he was recuperating in Walter Reed Hospital after losing his leg on that second tour of duty. He promised he would find some way of staying in the Marines until he could retire, and he did. I was able to reconnect with him in the Mojave desert, where he was training Marines on a new weapons system before they headed back to Iraq. His only disappointment was not being able to go back with them.

Songs About War

The first time I met Cpl. Josh Hisle was at a talent show in the middle of the Kuwait desert the week before the invasion of Iraq. His original composition about wanting the war to start so him and his fellow Marines could start the countdown for going home hit a real chord with the rest of the Corps.

Many of his original compositions are about his experiences in Iraq, especially during his second tour of duty when he started questioning the mission.

"It was more about survival. We were hooking and jabbing with guys we didn't know who they were. They would shoot at you and change clothes and waltz right by you. There was nothing you could do about it. It was a scrap and all-out cockfight," Hisle said. "This time I'm definitely watching my own ass a lot more because I want my kid to have a dad."

Going back to Iraq was the last thing Hisle had in mind while composing and recording the new single he recently mailed me. Hisle has since left the Marine Corps and is now trying to make it as a singer-songwriter in the Cincinnati area. Most of his songs are about his experiences in Iraq and how he wouldn't wish them on anyone, least of all his fellow Marines, some of whom are on their fifth tours of duty to the "sandbox," as many of them call it.

Hisle shared with me how he somewhat reluctantly turned down a five-figure bonus to re-enlist in the Marines for a third tour in Iraq, mostly for family reasons but also because of his growing disenchantment with the war.

"The songs are about war, in some aspects, as far as seeing suffering and pain and seeing death. I don't think anyone should ever have to see that. The war now is the lowest on the totem poll. Our boys are still over there taking rounds in the chest and all that we can talk about here is that Obama is a black dude, Hillary is a woman and McCain is a hundred years old."

Five Years Later

As I flew around the country on my mission to reconnect with these three different Marines to see how much the war had changed their lives, I felt somewhat alien among the other travelers on business trips, spring breaks and family reunions.

Most would be hard-pressed to remember where they were or who they were with when Saddam's statue came down, when Iraq held its first elections or when the United States passed the 4,000 fatalities milestone.

Five years of the Iraq War might be ancient history for most Americans but not for the three Marines profiled. Like myself, it has been an indelible experience and a story that seems to never end.