Johnny

Johnny
As I watched the news of the war on TV, the body count rose. I did not associate the count with actual people. It seemed to be just a bunch of numbers. Then they called up my nephew, Johnny. He was the reason I joined in the first place. I went to see him and his wife Nancy at Ft Hood and decided that the military was the life for me. After I returned home from Ft Hood I enlisted. Now he was going to War. His unit, the 507th Maintenance Company out of El Paso Texas deployed in February. I have seen pictures of vehicles lined up and ready to go into Iraq. The picture showed miles and miles of vehicles all in line ready to roll. I believe that Johnny was in there somewhere. I wonder what he was thinking about and whether he had the fear that is beginning to build inside of me. What does the next year hold in store for me? For us? In March Johnny’s convoy was ambushed just outside of An Nassaria and Johnny was killed in action. He was only 35. I am only 35. Now the body count has come to life, now the count became soldiers. It just hit me kind of like a movie flash back of a person’s life when they die. All of the photos and faces of the fallen soldiers flashed by, and stopped on a picture of Johnny. It is sad that it took the death of a relative to bring the numbers to mean something. We had just talked not 6 months prior and now he is gone. I told him that he would not be there long and that they would be home soon. I would like to say that he is not forgotten by the country he so bravely defended but truth is his name has just become another number in the endless numbers of causalities. It seems with the media coverage that they pick someone to make a hero of and forget all others. The people who return from combat injured are remembered longer than those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. Everyone remembers Jessica Lynn as the cute female soldier who was rescued but not too many remember the other members of the unit. We as family and friends keep Johnny’s memories alive. Don’t get me wrong I have nothing but respect for PFC Lynch. She was the only soldier riding in that particular Hummv who lived yet, when she returned she chose to tell the truth in her interviews rather than some contorted story to make herself look better. Do I know that it was the truth? No, I was not there, but she quietly said that she did not shoot at all that her weapon was jammed. How could someone make up a lie like that? If she were going to make up a story it would have been one to bring more attention to herself. Will I be the one to return with a story or will I be the one who is only remembered by family and friends? What fate is in store for me? For us? The next 12 months will tell the tale.