Earlier this year, late March, my Marine son returned home from his second tour in Iraq. Seeing him for the first time upon his return I found myself surveying him carefully, holding him close in my arms I assessed him like a mother would a newborn, ten fingers, yes, ten toes, good. My relief and gratitude suffered no boundaries and I poured forth my soul in reverence and appreciation to our ancestors for watching over him; I praised Buddha, Allah and God and thanked my lucky stars and wept profuse tears of release.
â€˜So they allowed it to begin, having obtained for it formal assurances of help from the British Government. Yet none the less the rebellion of the Sherif of Mecca came to most as a surprise, and found the Allies unready. It aroused mixed feelings and made strong friends and strong enemies, amid whose clashing jealousies its affairs began to miscarryâ€™. T.E. Lawrence from his book â€˜Seven Pillars of Wisdomâ€™
Less than a year after returning from Iraq, my oldest son, Lance Cpl John Fett, 24 received orders that he is being redeployed. John is attached to the 2 nd Battalion 5 th Marines and they are being sent over to relieve another battalion in their regiment that has been in Iraq for an extended period. He will be stationed in Ramadi a suburb of the dissident hotbed, Fallujah.
A few days ago, I received some photographs from my son, now a Lance Corporal in the Marines, who has been stationed in Iraq, of late along the Euphrates River in the southern region. He related a tale of one of his experiences that perhaps illustrates the huge, moral decisions forced upon these youngsters, decisions they will bear the burden of all their lives.