"The poets down here don't write nothing at all"

This blog has been harder to do than I thought it would be. Sorry about that.

On the bright side though I have finally started on a book about Iraq.

"Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart"

I am a demonstrative person when it comes to my emotions. Certainly as I have gotten older and more experienced I have worked to reign that in certain circumstances so that I will actually accomplish my goal for that situation. I would think it rare for someone to meet me and not know how I felt about a certain situation or issue. Imagine my surprise last night to find how I had compartmentalized the emotion of grief in my life.

Last night Mrs. Badger Six decided we needed to watch Marley and Me on HBO. Now I don't do dog movies. Movies that want to impart us with some sort of life lesson invariably require some form of loss. In dog movies that can only mean one thing. The dog dies at the end. I love my dogs beyond all reason and I suppose I will have to accept that they will most likely not outlive me, but at as they are both seven years old I should have a few years before I have to deal with that fact.

During the short period of the film I went through the Five Stages of Grief. At first I was in denial about how the movie would. I had never seen it nor had I read the book. Soon though I was angry at having the movie on as we were cooking dinner. In the second half I was bargaining with myself about watching it; I wanted to enjoy the movie about the dog, but I did not want to deal with what I knew the end had to be. As Marley first got sick in the film I became depressed; depressed that I knew I would watch and what the end would have to be. As the credits rolled after Marley was buried, I accepted that he was dead and buried my head in my hands and sobbed. As much as I knew what the end would be I was surprised at how much it had impacted me.

After I returned from Iraq my mother told me I could not let the things that had happened there "dominate the rest of my life." I suppose on a certain level that advice is good and true. But the fact of the matter is Iraq and the experiences there changed my life and me forever.

We recently moved - we live on post now in the southwestern US. I like it, there are a lot of conveniences to living right here. It also reminds me of living on a FOB - all of the things I must have are here. I can easily go a week without leaving the post. At night I walk the dogs up this hill near our home and I look out over the city and the highway heading north. I am reminded of the lights of Ramadi as the FOB sat is total secure darkness from my first tour. I am reminded of the lights of the trucks on Tampa heading north for Baghdad or south for Kuwait from my second tour. And as I think of Iraq I think of Holtom, Clever, and Werner. I think of Shannon, Grothe and Schwab. I think of my Soldiers that still are dealing with the wounds of their service and whose lives will never be the same.

After I walk back down the hill I walk around old post; around the parade field and the old barracks that are now a combination of offices and housing. Soldiers out of here fought a counterinsurgency of their own in the Indian Wars; they supported the punitive expedition to Mexico, and two infantry divisions trained here before shipping off for World War II. A lot of guys went, and lot of guys didn't come back. And those that came back weren't the same anymore. I'm not the same anymore.

So where do I find the balance for that grief and that pain. I long ago accepted that all the Badgers were not coming home alive; I could not change that. But what does that really mean? Acceptance and moving forward are not the same as forgetting; but remembering cannot be done without that touch of grief. I have no idea where that balance can be struck.

A life of grieving for my comrades does not seem healthy; neither though does compartmentalizing it to the point a movie sends me through the five stages of grief in a two hour period. I know not what the answer is; I guess it is just part of the Long Walk Home.

"This love burns inside me like the last light in the world"

Almost a four weeks ago, SSG Nickel was involved in an incident in Boise, Idaho. The sense of urgency has passed. How quickly most of return to normal. It is surreal.

I love the Soldiers I served with in Team Badger. Love has become so associated with sex in our culture that most men seem reluctant to admit that. I refuse to let our culture's reticence to admit to brotherly love to stand it the way of that admission. I want to you to know I love those Soldiers. A few of them were leadership challenges; a few of them did not get awards they felt they deserved; and I had to punish a few. None of that gets in the way of how I feel about them. I love them all.

Why do I feel that way?

When we were in Iraq those Soldiers saddled up in RG31's, Cougars, and Buffalos; they got in HUMVEEs and HEMITT wreckers. The drove from Ramadi to Balad to get supplies; they cleared the roads of Ramadi, Falluja, and Karma to ensure they had no IEDs on them. They did not always know why but they had the discipline and professionalism to do what they were asked.

PFC's and SPC's drove Husky's in tandemn to sweep for metallic objects.

At they end of the day they did all of this because I, as the Commander, asked them to do that.

I remember back to April and May of 2006. The Company went to the National Training Center at Fort Irwin, California for our first prep for Iraq. We spent four weeks running around the California desert getting to know each other. As we simulated dealing with irate Iraqi crowds SGT Jack and SGT John clawed at my webgear to keep me from getting sucked into a crowd of people that were angry at the US. I finally told them to let me go. SGT Jack told me they could not do this mission with a dead Commander.

On our first night out in Ramadi third platoon got out of their vehicles and hauled thousands of pounds of weapons and explosives into a central location to destroy.

When directed too do so, second platoon, just returned from Falluja, went on mission into Ramadi to escort a construction element so we could begin the process of taking the city back.

First platoon got on the road to escort supply elements for most of the tour and then when route clearance became plentiful, transitioned to a new and difficult mission.

The mechanics would work whatever hours were necessary to ensure the Soldiers going outside the wire had the right equipment and it was serviceable enough to do the mission.

Now, over two years later, one of our members sits in jail and it hurts to have him there. It hurts to go about my life with him sitting there. It hurts to return to normal when he is living every moment with what happened that night in Boise.

Who knows what happened that night in Boise? I'm a lawyer by education so I know there are issues that I can't answer for but I do know this - no one was killed - no one was hurt. And that means, regardless of whatever else happened, this can and should be fixed. If I could impart one over arching thing I learned from being in Iraq that is if no one is killed, if no one is permanently injured, a problem can be fixed.

Now people have been through worse than what SSG Nickel is going through. If he could speak to you SSG Nickel might say he has been through worse. But to me it is him. My Solider. And he is going through this. Right now.

So even though I can't do very much, I have provided an affidavit to his counsel and I am trying to raise money to pay them. And I think about him every chance I get.

But the stars are burnin' bright like some mystery uncovered

I'll keep movin' through the dark with you in my heart

My blood brother

I have raised about $300 - we need $3k right away and probably $20k ultimately. Times are tough all over but if you can seed $5 to us I would be eternally grateful.

The address is badger.six@gmail.com

"When They Come Back"

A friend of mine, the father Travis Patriquin, forwarded me this video.

It's by an artist named Derek Sholl. He's right - none of us came back the same.

And all of us are on our own Long Walk Home.

The George G. Nickel Fund - Your Urgent Assistance Needed

This is an urgent request for your assistance. Mores so than at any time since many of you started reading Badgers Forward, a Badger needs your assistance.

SSG George Nickel, the only survivor of the biggest attack on our company, is in the Ada County Jail, charged with some things that can only be related to his service in Iraq.

The good folks at the Idaho Veterans Network have established the George Nickel Fund. This fund will go to pay the legal fees that Staff Sergeant Nickel will incur as well as any other costs.

You can make your donation at any Wells Fargo Bank or you can send it to the branch where the fund was establsihed.

George G. Nickel Fund

Idaho Veterans Network Corporation

c/o Wells Fargo Bank

Idaho Center Branch

5607 E. Franklin Road

Nampa, Idaho 83687

you can also use PayPal and send it to badger.six@gmail.com. This is my personal PayPal account, but will see it gets to the Nickel fund.

Any assistance you can provide will be greatly appreciated.

"It's gonna be a Long Walk Home."

For those of you who were readers of Badgers Forward, it's great to have you reading my blog again. For those of you that are new to my writing welcome.

I started thinking about blogging again in early May, but I had trouble figuring out exactly what I wanted to do and truth be told, I still am not sure what direction this blog will take but the events of last week made it necessary to start writing again.

The name of the blog is not very original. Martha Raddatz wrote a book about coming from Iraq entitled The Long Road Home as did Garry Trudeau. Mr. Trudeau you may remember sponsored The Sandbox. The Teflon Don and I both contributed to that book and the online version.

My inspiration thought was the Bruce Springsteen song.

My father said "Son, we're lucky in this town
It's a beautiful place to be born
It just wraps its arms around you
Nobody crowds you, nobody goes it alone.
That you know flag flying over the courthouse
Means certain things are set in stone
Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't.

My goal is to update twice a week or so. There a large number of things to talk about when it comes to the issues of reintegration and what we do for our veterans.

Leave your comments, email me about what you are interested in, and we will take this walk together.

"I'm A Long Gone Daddy in the USA."

Tuesday night and into the early hours of Wednesday morning, the war in Iraq came home to Boise, Idaho. I was alerted just after arriving at work by a message in the Inbox of my Facebook account.

All it said was "please call."

So while the war was coming home to Idaho, some of us were being transported back to Falluja , Iraq and the events of 8 February 2007.

SSG George Nickel was the Soldier I did not name at the time, but now his story is all over the news.

SSG Nickel and I spent several hours alone in the hospital on Camp Falluja as we waited for the patrol to return. He had been flown back with SGT Ross Clevenger who had died enroute. After he had been stabilized SSG Nickel was flown to Balad, onward to Germany and then to Walter Reed Army Medical Center for four months of hospitalization before returning home on 4 July 2007 with his fellow Badger SFC Ian Freeman.

This last Tuesday night found SSG Nickel alone in his apartment; wife at mob station getting ready to deploy herself and his dog has suddenly gone missing. For whatever reason putting on some tactical gear, grabbing his AR15 and Glock pistol, and going on mission seemed like the appropriate course of action.

The Boise Chief of Police, Mike Masterson told the Idaho Statesman “This is bizarre behavior ... I don’t know what would push people to that (level of) desperation.”

Now I can forgive Chief Masterson for his lack of understanding, he has clearly never been the sole survivor of a devastating IED attack. I though understand exactly how one can get to that level of desperation and anger. Wife gone, dog missing, anger and sadness welling up inside, no one to call. And don't forget on that last one we as Men have been long expected to compartmentalize those sorts of emotions and not do anything about them. But for the grace of G-d and a little luck I can see myself in the same position. To me it is not bizarre behavior - I know exactly what pushes someone to that level of desperation.

As we remember back to 8 February 2007 remember that SSG Nickel volunteered to be the lead vehicle. As they had travelled down that road the previous day and knew how challenging that day had been, SSG Nickel offered up that his squad knew the road and should lead again. I have no idea what SSG Nickel thinks about his responsibility for that day, but I imagine he thinks he has some guilt; he has none, but of course it seems natural. The truth is that he is a very brave man who put others before himself.

The Teflon Don has blogged about this here.

I have been in touch with my First Sergeant and others in the area. I don't know what I can do to help, but I am reaching out and trying to assist him.

As an attorney I understand we need to see this play out, and I don't underestimate the seriousness of this, but there will be plenty of people ready to condemn him. For me though the mission is at always was, take care of my Soldiers.