David Hardt: Back in the USA

This is the first of weekly columns by David now that he is back from Iraq. He will journal the life of a returning Stryker.

A moment in time

There is one thing I have learned in the last 48 hours of being back on American soil — Everyone’s problems in life are not the same. The last time I came back from Iraq it seemed less complicated or, at least, less stressful. The complication or stress wasn’t from the process of getting off the plane and doing the whole Army redeployment process; it more or less came from facing the music of the real world. This time the first 48 hours have made my top 10 list of worst days and hours of my life. I learned quickly that the things and people I had left 15 months ago changed immensely — or am I the one who changed?
The first problem I ran into was on the home front. My neighbors and the Tacoma Police Department watched my house while I was deployed. To them I openly say thank you. The first thing I did when I got home was to go straight to the cars I have. I took the covers off and started the process of seeing how things were working. I started with the Neon and then moved on to the other car. To make a long, miserable, cold and rainy story short, neither of them worked. And to make things worse, the windows were not down, so I had some mold and a terrible smell — worse than Iraq, if you can believe that. I spent a lot of time just trying to find out what was wrong, and I kept striking out. After a couple of hours, I managed to get one car going. The car that you would think would be worse off started. This left me with the main car dead and out of the game. So I made do with what I had. Unfortunately, a day later the car that was running died, leaving me to call Simcoe, my best friend, to lend a hand.

Later on in the 48 hours from hell:
I stand outside my house on the frosted over lawn in the obscurity of the morning. I take a peek at my faithful running watch and hit my glow button — 3:30 a.m. It is early, but under the darkness is where I have trained for months, so it’s where I belong for now. I start off with my pre-run stretch. As I do, a cold breeze rushes across my face. I immediately realize that the first thing I am going to need to do is adjust to this weather. After some time, I warm up and make my way to the road into the darkness. As I run, every puff of breath is visible as the cold air hits my hot outtake. It is like I am a train going down the track on a cold winter night. As I run, a rush of emotions and thoughts shoot through my mind. While training in Iraq, I just concentrated on form, breathing and an assortment of other running things. Now I find myself consumed in wandering thoughts and worries that I am faced with coming back to the real world. I start to go faster and faster; my heart rate picks up, and the sweat starts to fall down my face. The iPod I wear has a tracking device, so it tells me how far I go. The warm voice of the lady comes over my headphones: “ten miles complete.” I lose track of time and distance and just keep going farther and farther. I end the run having gone 14 miles or so and come home focused and determined to get my life back into order. But just like an Army mission not everything goes as planned, so adjusting and overcoming will be the way the next days would go.

Having three days after the day we hit boots on the ground to relax and get back in the swing of things was good, but during that time I found out quickly that I had changed as a person. The first two days I slept a total of six hours, and that is no joke. I found myself wandering around the house, starting a chore, and then getting sidetracked by a thought and then moving onto that. I couldn’t finish anything; everything I did seemed like it was going nowhere. After hours and hours and then the sun coming up, I realized that I had done only one thing, and that was move a couple of bags here and there. As night turned into morning, everything just went to s*** with the cars. In fact, just about everything I touched seemed to fall apart. “What the hell is going on?” After some time of trying to get everything in order, I went out to my backyard. It was a jungle since no one had been there to mow the lawn. So much work to do and I have to do it by myself. I don’t want to come across like some lazy man, but while in Iraq we always had someone there, and you rarely did anything alone. This leads me to the next topic — loneliness.

As much as I have separated myself from the whole Army life, in reality the men I fight beside are the ones who have been there for the last four years and grueling 15 months. As I sit in the house, the silence drives me nuts. For 15 months Staff Sgt. Reeves, Staff Sgt. Rine and Bill have been there to talk to while in the room as well as out and about. Now I found myself wanting to talk just to hear a voice or just to laugh. I reached for my phone and called Simcoe to see how he was doing. He answered, but he was out of it. I hung up and realized that for once in a long time I was alone and actually needed someone to talk to.

There are so many emotions you go through in the first 72 hours it’s not even funny, and I am almost ashamed to admit it. I tell myself I have done this before and I reintegrated just fine, but this time life and circumstances have dramatically changed.
I am not the man I was when I left the first time, and I changed even more this time. I have become so much more compassionate and caring toward people. Before you wouldn’t see me asking anyone how his day was, because I just didn’t care, or I knew he wasn’t going to tell me how he really felt.
I took some time to walk in the mall and saw young couples holding hands and older married couples sitting on the benches talking. Before I wasn’t concerned with what was around me, but rather with what I had to do to survive in this unpredictable world we live in. I see a different color now — one that may help me deal better with the politics of the organization I am in. The one thing that has stuck out so far is dealing with certain people in the civilian world. So far, it seems like the people I am coming across are cold and somewhat distant from emotions. I think back to the way I used to be, and I find myself ashamed to have been that way.

As the days went on, some of the guys showed up at the house to see what was up and to pick up some stuff they had left here before the deployment. As we talked for a while, I felt almost better that I wasn’t the only one sucking. It ran from car problems to women problems or just trying to get their things back in order. Brett, Daniel, Davie, and I all have stresses and worries, but we had known that it might be this way. Some men have had it good and had no problems, and that is a great thing. This week we start our reintegration period, so that will be fun.

I know I sound like a mess, but as I write this, things are finally falling in place. I have had my lady friend here who helped me through the rough patches while in Iraq, and now she is here to listen to me and help me through this. I don’t know what I would have done without her in the last 72 hours. The good note is I got my dog, Gracie, back. Just having her in the house has started the healing and regrouping process. Gracie’s foster family — Livia and Nick — took care of my dog while I was gone, and they did such a great job. I never once worried that something would happen. I greatly appreciate them to no end. Life is going to be different. It is not going to be easy coasting, but then again, whose life is? Even millionaires have problems. Thanks to all for the support on this deployment. I hope to share with you more about my transition into the real world.

Next week: Is it just me?

Comments

[Cathy B]

Is it true? Is it official?
You are finally in the States?
A big welcome home!! All the best to you as you readjust and transition. Give yourself time. So glad you have someone for support. Again, thanks so much for writing about the reality and for all the hard work during a very long deployment.
Cathy B

[kat-missouri]

Welcome home. Just a thought, as you know, not just you and your buds, but everybody does have problems like cars and relationships and trying to sort through the daily pain in the butt of life.

No, we didn't do what you have done nor am I making light of it. I just wanted to tell you that, even if you feel separate from others and life, you are still a part of us.

[Dee]

I am so glad you are home safely. Thank you for your wonderful blog. I will miss it even while being glad you are not having to write it from Iraq. My son is 4/2, and not inclined to blog, nor is he where he could do so, so I hope someone steps up and fills your large void. I wish you a long, healthy, loving life.

[John L]

Dude, as a fellow soldier from 3/2 SBCT as well (1-23IN) I hear what you are saying completely. The issue with how time feels miserable and there are times that you feel alone and hate it, I agree completely. I am married and there are times I'd rather be with my fellow battle buddies at times. But, I guess thats all part of the "re-integration process." Welcome home, partner.

[Ky Woman]

Welcome Home Soldier! Thanks for a job well done. Take your time readjusting. Rome wasn't built in a day, and you didn't change overnight either. Wanting/needing someone to talk to can be rough, how well I know. Dogs can be very understanding and they keep secrets!
Remember 'one day at a time'! Thanks again.

[kathy]

Welcome back soldier. I keep wondering if the daniel in your post is my son, lol, is he from sylacauga? If so you already know his car would not start either, he had to buy a battery and get it serviced. Then he found out that he was being moved from the better barracks to the worst one, due to the divorce not going through as he thought while deployed for 15 months...on the bright side, he has called home to talk two times and made my day. And will be home to live with me in feb. and help his old disabled mom out. Yeah, i feel old, turned 50 this year. But any armymom might say that the last 15 months added years to us....we love you guys so much!

I am sad that no one cut your grass while you were gone. Daniel will be home next summer to help me with mine, and I will be so glad to have him back here to help me. As i do need his help.

Wow amazing you had a house for all those months....thats got to be an accomplishment in itself. Oh by the way did anyone mention to you that parts of Wa state had floods while you were gone, could that have helped the smell of the cars, and were they exposed to that, just a thought.

Get some baking soda fridge packs and put them in the car, and some fabreese fabric spray, that might help as well.

Just take your time readjusting, and remember this, you did grow alot while you were gone, you experienced what alot of us that have been through near death experiences have, and it does change you but in so many better ways, than the people that forget to stop and smell the roses!! Everyday will be a blessing to you, everyday will bring more to you than to someone else who has not lived life on the very edge, and you deserve to ENJOY your life, you earned it!

By the way, love your post, it helped me keep a little near my son who never would write home....but i got to hear from every two months or so, lol.

God bless you for all you have done for us looking for anything we could get about the war our sons were in. Thank you!