Twenty Years Later

It’s hard to believe that the twentieth anniversary of my deployment to Iraq is in a few short months. We mobilized with the North Carolina Army National Guard in May of 2005 and deployed to Kuwait and Iraq at the end of August of that same year. Twenty years have gone by in a blink of an eye. Where does the time go?

For the last decade since we filmed our documentary “Hammer Down,” we have actively tried to plan events and get-togethers for the men we served with. That mantle has mostly fallen on me, and a couple of other guys, and it has been an honor to be that connecting tissue for this group. We have primarily planned camping trips in the Uwharrie National Forest, and most recently we started doing monthly dinners at a local Mexican restaurant since many people couldn’t commit to a weekend camping trip.

This week, we had one of the biggest turnouts in a while. On Sunday afternoon, I got a phone call from one of my oldest friends in the unit, who now lives in Washington D.C. He said he would be in town this week and wanted to see some of the guys we deployed with. I reached out to the group and we rallied on Tuesday at that same Mexican restaurant we’ve met at for the last few months. Seeing so many faces we hadn’t seen in a long while was great. There were a few people that I hadn’t seen in at least ten years, if not since our homecoming in 2006.

The one thing I can say about this group is that despite how many years have elapsed between visits, we always pick right back up where we left off. There’s truly something special about this crowd. I imagine most combat veterans share a similar sentiment. You went through the crucible with a group of people you are now tied to for the rest of your life. We share something few can understand, and I am thankful to be among these great men.

There are unspoken truths that are acknowledged with the nods of knowing heads. There are inside jokes that still make us laugh all these years later. There is a bond shared with many in this group that is deeper than family. This is something that people outside of the group have a hard time fathoming, but that’s okay.

Despite our lives going in myriad ways over the past twenty years, we share that common touch point and stay connected. As I looked around the table where we shared a meal, I saw the ravages of time and age affecting some of us. I saw wrinkles and gray hairs—or no hair—that festooned these once-youthful warriors. Many of us—myself included—couldn’t fit into our old uniforms if our lives depended on it. Conversely, some men at that table still looked like they were still enlisted.

Many of the men I served with twenty years ago stayed in the military in one form or another. Some went on multiple deployments and bore the scars of their service on their minds and bodies. Some retired with rank. Others, like me, did that one deployment and got out when their initial contracts ended. Some went into politics, police, fire departments, and many other industries. We’ve all moved on from that deployment, but that thread still connects us; transporting us through time to a continent nearly seven thousand miles away instantly.

We may disagree on politics and certain policies that surrounded our deployment to support Operation Iraqi Freedom, but one thing is for sure: we all came home from it. I don’t know of a single member from my old unit who isn’t fully aware of what a blessing that was for all of us. When convoys ten minutes ahead of us or thirty minutes behind us suffered casualties, we rolled by unscathed. It often felt like we were waiting for a boot that never dropped. This isn’t to say we didn’t have minor issues, and even some major attacks happen while on the road, but we all came home intact. That’s a rarity. Again, that’s a blessing.

With twenty years of life lived forward, I suspect this year will be full of introspection. As we get phone calls and Facebook posts telling of cancers, addictions, and other maladies, taking members of our group, each chance to meet and reminisce means that much more. We don’t take it for granted. I know I don’t, at least. These men are my brothers, and I’m glad I can say that none of my friends “almost joined” the military. They all stood for something and put their bodies on the line. In a world with few ideals anymore, that’s a rarity. Here’s to another twenty years of surviving the war with a family forged under fire.

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If you’re interested in seeing a documentary about our time in Iraq and the tenth anniversary of that deployment, visit HammerDownFilm.com and watch it for free.

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