Chapter commentary: What struck me the most when reading the submission by the troops and their families on the subject of coming home was the sheer diversity of the material. Some of the pieces were very funny or poignant, while others were profoundly contemplative or heartbreaking. The following excerpts are just two out of the dozen or so featured in this chapter, and they emphasize the stellar writing ability of these troops, the uniqueness of their stories, and the importance of our listening to what they have to say.

SEA VOYAGE
(E-mail)
Captain Guy W. Ravey

Commentary: U.S. Marine Corps Captain Guy Ravey submitted several pieces to be considered for “Operation Homecoming,” and we came very close to including another one of them but ultimately could not due to space reasons. (It is now posted, however, on the project’s website:

The piece we selected for the book is an e-mail that Ravey wrote while making the long journey back to the States from Iraq by ship. Ravey enjoyed the leisurely, seven-week voyage to Hawaii on the USS Constellation, and the time gave him an opportunity to reflect not only on his own wartime experiences, but on those of other family members who had served in the military as well. On the evening of May 10, 2003, while sailing through the jungle islands of Indonesia, Ravey experienced a truly remarkable coincidence, and the following is just an excerpt from the full e-mail that appears in “Operation Homecoming.”

Dear Family and Friends,

Tonight was special. Tonight we passed by the island of Halmahera. It is a seemingly insignificant blob of tropical land sitting right on the equator near New Guinea and the Philippines, but it holds a great deal of significance to the Ravey family. This is the island where First Lieutenant Will Ravey, US Army Air Corps, was shot down in August of 1944.

Grandpa Ken Ravey had mentioned the island to me a few times as I was growing up. He rarely, if ever, brought the subject of his brother up. Even as a child I could sense how raw and painful the memories of his loss still were to him. However, he would proudly and reverently tell me the stories of his big brother, and once or twice he mentioned how his brother had died in combat over an island I had difficulty finding in any atlas because it was so small….

I went up on the signals bridge tonight and looked out at the dark silhou­ette of Halmahera on the horizon. I tried to imagine what it was like to be in this area fifty-nine years ago. The pilot in me wondered what the P-38 was like to fly, and how exciting it must have been to be where Will was and to do what he was doing. The combat I experienced was very different from his. He most likely endured malaria, unsanitary conditions, oppressive heat and hu­midity, and a determined, well-equipped enemy. Not to mention there was a war that endured four long years, not three short weeks. I felt a kinship, though, and not just because Will is my flesh and blood. Will was a fighter pilot, and he died doing what he loved….

The weather at this latitude is hot and sticky, even at midnight, so I only stayed outside for a little while. I said a silent prayer for Will and for Dan, and then I went below. I felt strange. I’ll tell you all this now and hope you un­derstand: I felt happy. Being near Halmahera is the closest I’ve been to fam­ily in seven months….

I called Grandpa Ravey on the sailor phone aboard ship and spoke to him for four minutes: long enough to hear the lump in his throat when I told him where I was. I am proud to have been able to set eyes upon this place. In a way, I feel as though I’m bringing a part of Will’s spirit home with me.

Love to all,
Guy

© “OPERATION HOMECOMING: Iraq, Afghanistan, and the Home Front, in the Words of U.S. Troops and Their Families” (Random House, 2006), edited by Andrew Carroll. Reprinted by permission.

~

THE HARDEST LETTER TO WRITE
(Journal)
Staff Sergeant Parker Gyokeres

Commentary and excerpt: Members of Staff Sergeant Parker Gyokeres’s family have served in every major American conflict since, in his words, “the defense of Jamestown in 1609.” Gyokeres himself was deployed to Iraq to provide “force protection” for the air base in Tallil from November 2003 through March 2004 with the U.S. Air Force’s 332nd Fighter Wing. Dur­ing his five months in Tallil, Gyokeres wrote hundreds of pages of journals, all of which he e-mailed to his wife, relatives, and other loved ones back home. He downplayed the risks he faced, and the majority of his journals detailed the more offbeat and humorous incidents that helped him endure the boredom of life on an air base in the middle of the desert. Perhaps the most serious of his entries is the final one, which, even after he e-mailed it to friends and family months after returning home, he continued to edit. Gyokeres was no longer writing for them. He was writing for himself. (Gyokeres actually has two submissions featured in “Operation Homecoming,” and the following is a short excerpt from the second one.)

This has been, by far, the hardest letter to write. I returned home to the dichotomy of being universally welcomed with open, respectful, grateful arms—by a country that is increasingly against why I was ever in Iraq….

The main issue for me has been adjusting to a life without the dear friends I served with and whom I grew to love—and, without whom, I felt lost, alone, and unable to relate to others. I am told this is normal. That did not, however, make it easier. And I know I’m doing better than many for whom I care deeply. They hide it well, but they are struggling….

I was fortunate not only because I had it easy compared to so many other troops, but because my wife supported me during my angry, confused, and sleepless times. I cannot thank her enough for this, and she has always been there for me and never stopped loving me. This is all that matters, and I do not want to leave her again or make her go through all the anxieties and wor­ries that she silently endured as well. My wife could not understand how I could become so close to people I had served with for such a relatively short period, and she was upset about my apparent inability to leave it all behind. But it was for my own well-being that she was concerned, and not out of jeal­ousy. Most importantly, she knew when to listen and when to let me work through my emotions.

This is perhaps the most important thing any loved one or friend can do. Those of us coming back from Iraq or Afghanistan are not looking for sym­pathy. We might be reluctant at first to talk about what we’ve been through, good or bad, and some troops might never be able to open up, which is cer­tainly their right. There are also things about war that people will never com­prehend unless they have experienced them firsthand. But I hope that those who need to will reach out, and it’s helpful knowing that there are people who care about us and are at least making an effort to understand.

Your support has made this journey an incredible one for me, and I couldn’t have gone through it alone. Thanks for joining me—and thanks, above all, for listening.

Parker

© “OPERATION HOMECOMING: Iraq, Afghanistan, and the Home Front, in the Words of U.S. Troops and Their Families” (Random House, 2006), edited by Andrew Carroll. Reprinted by permission.