The Ramblings of a Mad Man

Posts tagged “battle

The Things We Carry With Us

Three weeks from coming home, N.C.-based soldiers die in Iraq.

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Spc. Marc S. Seiden
Died January 2, 2004 Serving During Operation Iraqi Freedom
26, of Brigantine, N.J.; assigned to 2nd Battalion, 325th Airborne Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, Fort Bragg, N.C.; killed in action when his convoy was ambushed by the enemy who used an improvised explosive device (IED), small arms fire, and a rocket-propelled grenade, on Jan. 2 in Baghdad.

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Army Spc. Solomon C. Bangayan
Died January 2, 2004 Serving During Operation Iraqi Freedom
24, of Jay, Vt.; assigned to 2nd Battalion, 325th Airborne Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, Fort Bragg, N.C.; killed in action when his convoy was ambushed by the enemy who used an improvised explosive device (IED), small arms fire, and a rocket-propelled grenade, on Jan. 2 in Baghdad.

We were three weeks away from coming home. It’s one of those days in my life that I will never forget. I couldn’t tell you what I had for breakfast that morning or even what time I woke up. I can’t even tell you the exact time the call came in over the radio, but that is when the memory starts.

I was part of the company mortar section back then. Being a part of the company headquarters section often meant making runs to battalion or the support area for meetings, supplies, meals, etc. I remember that we’d just rolled back in the gate at the oil refinery we were living in from one such trip. We’d gone to pick dinner up for the company. We hadn’t even shut off the trucks yet when we heard the call over the radio.

Our third platoon had two trucks on patrol to the south, down on River road. I don’t even remember exactly what their mission was down there at the time. I do remember the sound of the voice on the radio saying that an IED had detonated under one of our trucks and there were casualties. We tossed the mermites full of whatever food we’d picked up that evening onto the curb, jumped back into our trucks and hauled ass.

I remember worrying about my best friend at the time. He was the RTO in 3rd platoon. I didn’t know if he’d gone out with them. In reality, it was a short drive, I barely even remember it looking back. I just remember how at the time it seemed that we weren’t moving fast enough.

Once at the site, certain images, scents, feelings and actions can never be forgotten. They’ve crawled into that protected hard drive space in my brain that will never be erased until the lights to out.

Four 105mm artillery rounds had been set off under the truck. It had ripped the right side of the truck off, killing Marc instantly. At the same time, he explosion at launched the truck into the air, causing it to barrel roll down a hill. Bang (Bangayan) had been in the turret and had been thrown free, but the concussion of the blast had killed him. I remember when I first saw him, lying on a stretcher. He could have been asleep, there wasn’t a scratch on him.

My best friend’s roommate, Dave, had been thrown from the truck as well. When we arrived, he was down the hill, with his leg pinned under the rear right tire. The truck was sitting on a very steep incline, with all of its weight resting on the side Dave was pinned under. I remember six of us grabbing the frame of the truck and lifting with all of our might. It was the heaviest thing in the world at the moment, the side with the armor still intact, but we had to move it. We had to get Dave out from underneath the tire and get him to the incoming medevac.

I remember helping to set up the HLZ and then going to perimeter security. And when the bird landed, I was sent to help carry Bang to the helicopter. I remember the myriad of emotions I felt. I remember thinking just how fucking unfair it was that these guys got injured or killed just three weeks before we were supposed to come home. I remember seeing my best friend at one point and feeling a guilty sense of relief that he was okay.

I don’t remember much else about that day after that. We pulled security, EOD came and did crater analysis and we went back to the company eventually. The next three weeks until we went home are lost to the sands of time.

I do remember the day that we caught the guys who set the IED. I remember riding in the back of the truck, pulling security while we took them to the detention center. I can’t speak for anyone else in that truck, but I remember wanting to put my Beretta to one of the guy’s skulls and sending him to whatever god he believed in. That was the justice I wanted to give my brothers. It was dark and cold when we arrived at the support area and handed them over. I remember the fences and bright lights they had set up, but I didn’t go inside.

It’s amazing what my mind does remember of that day, 10 years ago. I was a 19 year old kid, on the end of my first tour to the sandbox. So much life has happened since then. I still keep in touch with a lot of the guys who were there that day. I’m sure each of them could give you a variation of the same story from their own point of view. You don’t forget days like that. Even 10 years later.

So now it’s 0217 in the morning, January 3rd, 2014. Today is my 12 year anniversary of joining the Army.

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