Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq (31 page)

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Authors: Michael Anthony

Tags: #General, #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #epub, #ebook, #Military

“They've been cheating on their husbands this entire time!”

“They were all laughing and crying,” Reto says.

“This is fucking incredible. They acted like they could have cared less about their families while they were here, now they're all giddy about seeing them. I fucking hate people.”

“I'll go back to my seat. It looks like Denti wants to sit here.”

“No, stay here. I don't want fucking Denti sitting here again. I had to sit with him the entire first part of the flight,” but Reto ignores me.

0915 HOURS, FLIGHT HOME

When Denti sits down next to me, I see a pillow go flying across the aisle, then another one, then another one. A minute later almost the entire plane is throwing pillows around and having a giant pillow fight. I look at them all and I see everyone smiling and laughing and having a good time. None of them seem like the people I've just spent a year with. I begin to feel nostalgic. These are my brothers and sisters. We've shared a journey that few people in the world will ever know about, much less be able to relate to.

1015 HOURS, FLIGHT HOME

The plane makes a stopover in Germany, where it refuels, and then we get back onto the plane. The entire stopover consisted of me yelling at Denti: “No, that's a bidet, not a water bubbler….”

“Hey, smell my breath,” Denti says as we get back on the plane.

“What? I'm not going to smell your breath; go sit somewhere else,” I reply.

“No. Me and this guy stole some nips of absinthe out of the gift shop. I feel all warm and tingly. Hey, man, do you want to play cards? We can play poker, Rummy 500. Do you want to watch a movie on my DVD player? Do you want to sit here and talk? I can't believe we're almost home. I can't wait.”

I begin to notice why absinthe is illegal in the States. Not because it has a high level of toxicity and can make people hallucinate, but because it makes people annoying as fuck. “Denti, shut up. I'm trying to go to sleep.”

“Hey, man, let me get some of your Ambien. You have like a whole bag left; let me get one.”

“I'm not going to give you a whole one.”

“Fine, whatever; give me something so I'll just pass out.”

I give Denti half (approximately 5 mg) of an Ambien pill.

1025 HOURS, FLIGHT HOME

“Hey, man, I'm not tired. I'm wired. Give me another half a pill. This shit isn't working,” says Denti.

“Listen! It takes twenty minutes to a half-hour to kick in. Just wait.”

Denti then proceeds to poke my arm. “Come on, man, give me another half one … come on.”

“Fine, but that's it. Wait for it to kick in.”

1035 HOURS, FLIGHT HOME

“Hey, man, this shit sucks. I'm still wide awake. Give me another full pill and I promise I'll leave you alone.”

“Denti, seriously, shut the fuck up; I'm trying to sleep.”

“I swear, man, give me one more. A full pill and I'll shut up. This shit doesn't even work. Just give me one more; I'm buzzed, man. All I want to do is sleep. Come on … come on … come on….”

“All right, Denti, but if you ask one more time, I'm going to suffocate you with my miniature airplane pillow.”

I give Denti the final pill, and he gulps it down. He now has had two nips of absinthe and 20 mg of Ambien. Finally I get some peace and quiet and can try and go to sleep.

He's out for the next four hours. Then his body begins shaking and his arms are in the air like a T-Rex. I'm not sure if all the Ambien and absinthe is a deadly mix and I begin worrying.

What the fuck should I do? Should I get someone and ask for help? Should I tell them about the absinthe and Ambien? What should I do? What should I do? He could die.

Or then again, he could be totally fine.

Maybe nothing will happen. I should just close my eyes and go to sleep. If anyone walks by and sees him I can just say I don't know what happened, I was sleeping.

Whatever, he'll be fine … just go to sleep.

OUT-PROCESSING, FT. McCOY, WISCONSIN

1500 HOURS, AUDITORIUM

We are doing out-processing. It consists of filling out paperwork and telling people that we won't kill ourselves. We officially fly home tomorrow, but tonight we are having a big awards ceremony. Most everyone is getting one of two awards, the Army Achievement Medal or the Army Accommodation Medal.

Colonel Jelly is onstage shaking hands and handing out the awards. One of the GOBs is reading out the names of everyone and what award they will be getting. Some people are also receiving Bronze Stars. A Bronze Star is the fifth-highest award that any person can receive in the United States military.

By the time the night ends, fifty Bronze Stars are handed out. The recipients include men and women (officers) who were having adulterous affairs and nominating each other for awards. Award winners also include all of the GOBs, Colonel Jelly, Captain Dillon, Staff Sergeant North, and Command Sergeant Major Lavaled. As some of the names are called for the Bronze Stars, boos can be heard throughout the auditorium.

But none of it matters to me, I'll tell you what matters to me: I survived a war; I survived a year outside of my comfort zone without any friends or family. The goddamn Army made me a man.

EPILOGUE

It's been almost two years since I left Iraq. While I don't see many of the other soldiers I lived with for a year, I hear about them often.

Sergeant Hudge finished up her contract, left the Army, and just had her first baby. She and her husband are now in the middle of a divorce.

Specialist Denti and Sergeant Elster finished up their contracts and left the army. Sergeant Elster finally admitted that he was the one throwing the shitty toilet paper into the trash. (In Iraq, toilet paper is not used. The plumbing system cannot handle it — so Iraqis use their hands. Whether he was afraid to test the facilities or he was just playing with our minds, we may never know.)

Specialist Torres and Sergeant Cardoza are now living together.

Specialist Markham is married and works at Home Depot. We are currently trying to sell a screenplay he wrote while in Iraq.

Staff Sergeant Clementine and Specialist Proust got married and moved to Louisiana. They got divorced a few months later.

Sergeant Sellers left the Army and is battling a drug problem.

Specialist Reto is an operating room technician in Maine.

Staff Sergeant Gagney signed up to be a trainer for units being deployed to Iraq.

First Sergeant Mardine retired from the army.

Staff Sergeant Blett came clean and told her husband about the affair she had with Pyne while in Iraq.

Currently there is a lawsuit against Fort McCoy in Wisconsin for the horrible living and food conditions.

Sadly, Specialist Crade took his own life. When I first heard the news, I felt empty. And then the anger rose in me. At the same time I heard about Crade, I heard Colonel Jelly had been promoted to General.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SPC Michael Anthony seemed destined to serve from the day he was born. The youngest of seven children, Anthony has four brothers and two sisters, all of whom joined the military (except for one sister). His father and two grandfathers were also in the military.

After graduation from high school, he went to basic training and then job training to become an operating room medic. One year later he returned home and enrolled in college to begin his first semester. Almost immediately upon finishing his first semester he was shipped off to Wisconsin to train for four months before he would leave and spend his next year in Iraq. Since returning home, Anthony is working on his next book, and toward a bachelor's degree in creative writing. He lives in Massachusetts.

Anthony is being featured in Erik Spink's documentary about the invisible wounds of war. You can contact Anthony and find links to the documentary through his website,
www.MassCasualties.com
.