As I sit in my tent this afternoon, I’m writing to you realizing that this may be my last post while in theater. With our re-deployment impending, our access to regular internet usage has declined and there is still so much we have to finish before we leave. I never thought I would write this, but leaving will be bittersweet. Anyone who has been deployed can attest to the feeling you have when you are about to leave a place like this. The desire of a return to some semblance of normalcy runs deep, it consumes your thoughts everyday. Time passes between you and your battle buddies by talking about all the things you wish you could be doing right that moment. Conversations turn to thinking about what your friends are enjoying on any given night. You realize after a 12 hour day that it’s Saturday, and back home your friends are sleeping in, and doing whatever they feel like doing that day. You wish you could just get into your car and drive, anywhere.
I always say I’d go the local Starbucks and buy a nice venti latte, maybe even buy two or three if I want. My mind goes to afternoon drives down Pacific Coast Highway, pulling off in Hunting Beach or Seal Beach to go to my favorite Mexican food restaurants, or meeting up with friends in the evening to sit around and talk about politics, and life and dreams we have, all while practicing the zen art of shooting darts. I think about sitting around with my friend Ian playing guitar and writing our own compositions for no one but ourselves, just to relieve stress. I think about walking around Barnes and Noble on a Sunday afternoon, browsing the titles and thumbing through my favorite magazines. If you want to know what you crave as a soldier who is deployed, think of all the routines you have, the routines you take for granted, and those are the things you want to do. Think about dropping the kids off for school, of watching television in your favorite armchair in the evening, or even walking through the grocery store. You can even think about the things you don’t enjoy, like going to a normal day job or cleaning your house or apartment, and I guarantee that there is a soldier craving those activities right now. They are all things I know I’ve said I’ll never take for granted again.
And yet, while vowing to never take things for granted, I am looking back on this year, even the lowest points, and realizing that these are things I may not experience again and that maybe there were times I even took this for granted. In a way, I’ll miss the conversations I’ve had with my friends here, about all the things we’re missing. I’ll miss the sense of purpose you have when you wake up for a shift and know that you’re part of something larger than yourself. I’ll miss the solidarity you feel with men and women who are going through all the same feelings you are, but who are all enduring through them together, in good times and bad. I’ll miss the sense of anticipation that there is finality to the hard times, that there is a definite end to this long and strange chapter in anyone’s life. There is something to be said about knowing you can’t be here forever, that no matter how you feel, things will get better, and they’ll do so by the mere fact that soon, never soon enough, but soon you will be home.
I write to you all today knowing that even if we only exchanged a few e-mails, I feel as though I made a friend for life. I also write this entry today with regret that I was never able to write back to all of you. In fact, I can tell you now that throughout this year, the only regret I can say I will live with was not writing to more of you. When those glorious days off would come around, I always had such great expectations that I would sit down at a computer and knock out a couple hundred e-mails just to say thanks for the support. Unfortunately, on far too many of those days off I usually just went to chow and stayed in my tent reading a book or preparing a law school application. For those of you who read this, I want you to know I appreciate absolutely every word you have said. The support was overwhelming, and I am not ashamed to say that many of your letters brought tears to my eyes. Though my blog may have put a face and a name to what may seem like a faceless war for many of you, the e-mails, the care packages, the letters and the support put a name and sometimes a face as well to the heart of true American patriots. As I said to some of you, soldiers may be the fists of American might and goodwill, but you are all the heart and the backbone of America. You support us in our mission, you give us the strength to go on when the days seem so long you just want to throw up your hands and quit. It always seemed that letters of support came at the moments I needed them most, and they were always uplifting. Even the letters from folks who disagreed gave me strength, because I knew in those moments that what I was writing was being read and was having an impact. My mission was not to change hearts or even to change minds on the war, but merely to open minds as to what one soldier was experiencing, what he was thinking about, what was weighing particularly heavy on his heart.
The heart of America’s patriots is one of the things I have discovered more than anything else on this deployment. Despite the rhetoric that seemed to go back and forth in the United States on the war, the one thing I am most proud of is the hope that the American people hold for those in Iraq. People from across the world may find it hard to believe that the worlds greatest power would be willing to expend its treasure, and even more importantly some of its greatest citizens, just to help out another nation. Regardless of where we started with this war, I believe that this is where we currently stand. We are an incredible nation, I feel that in the depths of my bones, I can sense it in my spirit. Your support of us solidifies that sense, it shows me what being a patriot is, it encourages me to do the same when I return. I too plan on “Adopting a Platoon” once I am a civilian again, on writing letters of support to those soldiers currently away from friends and family.
To answer a quick question, I do plan on continuing my blogging experience when I return. In fact, between now and then I’ll probably have a lot to write. Once our unit is safe and sound in the US again, I’ll probably have even more experiences to share with you. I am definitely going to try and post from our re-deployment station, but I am not sure if time and internet access will permit it. Be sure to check back around mid March, when I’ll probably begin posting more regularly again.
I also want you to know that I am thinking about a small writing project along the lines I wrote about above regarding patriotism in America when I return, probably involving another blog. I have sensed the heart of American patriots, and want to do everything I can to foster that in the coming months. If you have an interest in helping me specifically with the project, I have set up another e-mail account for this. (chrismissick@yahoo.com) I probably won’t have a chance to check it until I return, but I assure you I will be much more diligent with my e-mail once I have more time on my hands. So as far as future plans, stay tuned.

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