Frontlines

is a collection of real life essays from Wayland Baptist Uni- versity students, devoted to military life and service. Some have seen combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. Some support those missions. Some are Army, some are Air Force, and some are National Guard. Others serve the Navy, Marines and Coast Guard. Some are career . Some are not. All serve the citizens of the United States of America, and these essays are a historical marker and testimony to that fact. Frontlines and Wayland honors the sacrifice and serv- ice of these men and women.

“The above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” ~ Douglas MacArthur Mission: Come4 Home Alive

by Theodore Camacho

ou have just finished your Thanksgiving dinner in a deployed location, this time Iraq. The turkey Yslices were dry, and the mashed potatoes were tasteless. It was nothing like a home-cooked meal, but it beat MREs (meals ready to eat). You receive notice of an upcoming mission. The first thing that goes through your mind is “Am I on this convoy?” Hold on for some bad news, because you are. Your mission is security. Your job is to protect convoys dur- ing night-time operations in Iraq. Your one thought until it’s over is clear: “I hope I see my family again.” Making sure they have everything they need, your crew is preparing the gun truck in the evening, because they know you’ll be on the road for at least eight hours. Check- ing your communications system is a must, especially if you’re the lead gun truck. If you find yourself in a hostile situation and you can’t communicate, you won’t get help or you can’t help those who need it. You will not know what’s

19 going on, and that’s just trouble. Your weapons must be cleaned and operable. You are useless as a convoy security escort if you can’t fight the enemy off. You make sure you have food and water for your fire team and extra cans of fuel in case you or somebody else runs out. Putting on your body armor is a requirement and a ne- cessity, even though you are in an up-armored vehicle. No one wants to get shot. You load your vehicle with ammo so you’re ready for a fire fight if one occurs. You want to make sure you have enough, not only for your personal weapon but for the means of transportation as well. The temperature is already a bit chilly because it has dropped 30 degrees from the daytime. Your convoy starts the mission in the cold, dark night. Your gunner is freezing because you’re driving 70 mph, and he has nothing but the iron sides of the turret blocking the wind from him. Mean- while, in the vehicle, the truck and the driver are sweating because the AC doesn’t work. The heat from the vehicle mixed with that from the communication sys- tems and your body armor altogether makes for some sweaty airmen. Your gunner is jealous because you get warmth and pro- tection, but your driver is suffering because the heat is get- ting to him; he is experiencing fatigue from dehydration. Meanwhile, the truck commander is starting to develop a mild case of claustrophobia because he is crowded, sitting in all his gear next to the communication systems. Crammed into the vehicle with all your armor on but without even enough space to put your seatbelt on, you would still be at fault, if something were to happen, for not wearing one.

20 You took a chance by not getting life insurance. If you were to die, what would your family do? What can you do now? All you can do is follow orders and pray for the best. Driv- ing down a two-lane road as if it were one gives you just an ounce of hope that you will avoid hitting an IED (impro- vised explosive device). Sometimes your mission lasts so long, you’ll see the sun setting and rising. Your job is to escort this convoy through the endless desert, protecting and leading it towards its des- tination safely and on time. But that doesn’t always happen. Even though you were trained for the job, you can’t get over the thought that any day you could die. You’re coming up to a village, and you see the lights go out. Then off in the distance you hear some kind of chant coming from the female villagers. It’s almost like they’re warning your enemies that you’re getting close. In this situ- ation it’s hard to look at anybody without thinking they might want to hurt you. You start to get this cold feeling in the back of your neck, and your heart starts to race. You hear nothing but si- lence now. It’s not because they’ve stopped their chanting but because everything is tuned out except your eyesight. You have to keep scanning, looking for IEDs, car bombs, and even the possibility of getting ambushed. When you enter the village, you push anybody and everybody out of the way so the convoy can get through un- harmed and arrive on time. Your gunner, wanting the same, is shouting at people to move, as you honk your horn. All you get in return are looks of confusion or confrontation, like you don’t belong there. At the same time, you’re think-

21 ing that you don’t want to be there either. You are hoping and praying nobody jumps out in front of your vehicle, ei- ther risking a accident or intentionally planning to be blown up, as suicide bombers do. You are the eyes and the ears of that convoy. You are the first to hit trouble if any en- sues. Through it all there is always that one thought that al- ways finds its way to your mind: “I hope I see my family again.”

About the Author: Theodore Camacho has served in the U.S. Air Force for 11 years. He is currently a staff sergeant and a Phase 1 Medical Laboratory Instructor, a position he has held for one year. He is currently sta- tioned in Guam and has been deployed four times. He spent two stints in Iraq (July 2009-January 2010 and July 2004-March 2005), one in the United Arab Emi- rates and one in Oman. Theodore holds two As- sociate of Applied Science degrees from the Community College of the Air Force in transportation and medical labo- ratory technology. He is pursuing an additional AAS degree through CCAF in Instructor of Technology and Military Science and his Bachelor of Applied Sciences degree with Wayland Baptist University in health sciences.

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