Veterans Day 2011

So a group of colleges across the US read off the list of all 6300+ KIAs from the last 10 years today. My school was one of them. My list contained 4 of the guys we lost in Iraq. I've been struggling for the last few days to keep my composure and not break down. But when I got to those 4 names...I broke. For the rest of today the most prevalent thoughts in my mind have been "I should have been there" and "Why them and not me?" I feel like I broke the Soldier's Creed by not being there. They got hit a month and 2 days after I got out. Oddly enough, the names of the guys we lost when I was in Iraq didn't bother me as much as these 4. By getting out and leaving them to die, I feel like I broke the Creed by not placing the mission first. I feel like I left my comrades. My best friend Jade DeGiorgio told me that SOMEONE had to be around to remember them and tell their stories.  But I don't feel I'm worthy to tell anyone's story. I didn't have any right to do any less or sacrifice any less than they did. I didn't have a wife, I didn't have any kids. The world would have lost much less had it been me instead. But now,their wives have to be widows, their children have to grow up fatherless. I feel like it would have been better had it been me instead of them. Maybe then I would have finally done something right. The thought has been crossing my mind all day that since I am not worthy, since I don't deserve this second chance, that maybe-in order to make up for being given a gift they deserve more than I, that maybe if I took my own life, I could somehow make up for the inequality. Although suicide is something I have struggled with all my life and especially this last year, I'm not actually going to commit suicide. I know that I have no control over who lives and who dies, only God does. I don't even have control over my own death- I have tried, multiple times, especially after Iraq, and obviously I am still here. Someone from our Rememberance Committee told me that someone has to be here to remember their names, to honor them, to live for them, and to help those that do make it back. Taking my own life won't bring them back, even though I'd do it in a heartbeat if it would. But that's the easy way out I guess. Living for them, continuing to tell their stories, that's the hard way. And Scouts, well...we have a knack for doing things the hard way. I wish I could bring them back, but I'm not God. But I do know that one day, "halfway down the trail to hell," I'll see them again in the Fiddler's Green.