Memoirs written in prose of Sergeant Robertson, Damon M. USMC while in Iraq | ...with frequent appearances of King Hammurabi.
If you are new to this journal, make sure to start reading in chronological order by scrolling down to the bottom of the oldest post in October 2004. Damon's letters from August 20th, 2004 - October 23rd, 2004 were all added to this blog on Oct. 23rd, 2004. All subsequent letters are posted in real time.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Re: Hammurabi, USMC - DMR
Dear Family and Friends: This message may take more than one sitting to finish. I'll try to make my point and in so doing probably rob this moment of the depth it deserves. Oh well. Could be worse. Somone could come and steal my coffee horde. Right after they shoot my dog. Nah. They wouldn't do that! ... Seriously, now. ... The Promise. There are things I hope in so sincerely that I practically believe they're part of my 'some day' destiny. These are things that are so good that they couldn't possibly be false, such that the very mention of them invigorates and inspires me to Seek Them Out. In our dreams, when Christ whispers *his* dreams to our hearts: "the somehow future me with the somehow miraculous heart I would need to be the one *he's* always dreamed I would be." People listen to me talk about the military and they arch an eyebrow, scoff once or twice and ask, with the appropriate level of incredulity, "What *were* you thinking when you signed up and swore that oath?" That's because they hear all the BS about horrible leaders, lame conditions up to but not entirely encompassed by the prospect of a horribly violent death, etc. They think: why on earth does anyone want that? No one wants that. It's just that some of us are willing to put up with it in order to get something that's worth far, far more. I wanted to find a group of men who loved integrity as much as I did. I wanted the honor of serving with them. It's been said that it's better to serve in adversity with good people than live in fruitfulness with horrible people. I believe this is true because I have had the fortune to try on those boots and march a few (metaphorical) miles in them. I've had some huge (literal) blisters, too. The sad thing about promises from God is that they're easy to miss. We're not wise enough, not patient enough, not unselfish enough to see what exactly it is that he's dumped in our lap. 1st Sgt, the CO, my Staff Sgt. Dear God Deliver Us From Evil. Stanley. Tate. Kauffman. Walker. Malloy. Johnson. Gilbert. Rickter. Haulman. Rattray. Miller. Even Charlie. Dear Lord, Thank you. I was sitting on a manhole cover between the barracks and the mosque the other day, listening to one of my three cd's... there's this song called "Rescue" that doesn't bother with a lot of flare or colorful words. I need you, Jesus. Come to my rescue. I don't have wings enough to fly above the BS as it piles deep, deep deeper out here. I miss my family, my friends, my church, and even all the non essential comfort items I spent too much time arranging in my rather low-budget life. On top of that, I see this whole jaunt out here as an opportunity to find focus and development of the heart. Yes, I could spend every day of my life wishing it were the last day I had to spend here, that my bosses would just SHUT UP, that all sorts of things would be better than they are. In the midst of that discomfort it's easy to miss something very important. "do you remember?" He whispered to me as the song played. I don't even have to ask what. He's too excited not to blurt it out. "The men-- the friends you always hoped you'd serve with. They're here. The men of honor." Even on that list of friends there's only a small handful I would say really live their lives with integrity. But let's be honest. The integrity of others wouldn't fulfill any dream of mine if I was a liar and a cheat myself. That's where my pro/con marks come in. [proficiency/conduct marks are the ratings given to Marines to evaluate performance. My most recent are 4.6/4.6 out of a possible 5. 4.3 is considered average. Inflated grades anyone?] There's a section for comments on the back of the evaluation sheet. I've never actually had leaders that bothered to write anything down. They just give you the score and stuff it down your throat because, and I think I can fairly say this, they didn't care enough to write anything about anyone, or take the time... I look at the sheet. "Cpl Robertson is a Marine with impeccable integrity..." They used the word "integrity" three times in four sentences. So what if I'm not the fastest or strongest. So what if I don't yell (ergo ala USMC, "lead"). I took some time later that day, sitting in the cab of my forklift (the only thing close to privacy I can find here, even with the cb radio...). I cried and thanked God that He still shone through all my fatigue, disgruntlement and general unhappiness with myself; all these things seem to cloud over what's really going on, what He's been doing. Giving me what I always wanted. ... :D
# posted by chevas @ 4:33 PM 