On the annviersary of my old battalion's biggest scrape during March 2003, my former batlion commander reaches out to his former commanders and executive officer, and we catch up on events and careers.

This year, the round of emails caught me in N. Iraq, serving on a endgame deployment of sorts, which stands in stark contrast to the days I remember from the invasion. I thought my reply was worth sharing here as well:

I think you will all enjoy knowing what transpired the other day, just a couple days before the anniversary. The Iraqi brigade that owns the majority of this battlespace asked us to participate in an op involving some 250 jundi, in pursuit of one of the local HVIs for both our TF and the brigade. This same brigade has conducted similar operations recently, and it all indicates a very aggressive, talented, and capable brigadier general. He wants the support of air coverage, and our companies for outer cordons and screen lines, but it is always his men who go through the door when it comes to conducting the actual searches of any dwellings/villages. It's true that they do it "good enough" for Iraqi standards, but they do it fairly well.

In preparation for this particular operation, the BG brought the jundi to our expeditionary airfield in a column of HMMWVs, Ford F250s, 5-ton cargo trucks, and miscellaneous support vehicles. They even had their own refueler and 5-ton wrecker of sorts. We fed the jundi while the officers conducted final planning with staff, and so in my capacity as the XO, I was at the point of friction, trying to corral 200+ Iraqi soldiers into a chow line in the crisp morning air. They looked like the typical rag-tag bunch sporting different uniforms, with some wearing kneepads and headlamps as some sort of fashion accessory, but I took note of a few important things. First, I watched as a junior officer approached the line of men queued to be served. He had a couple NCOs with him, and instead of butting in line, he stood patiently and waited until his men had something to eat before he went through the line.

The other notable thing I saw happened once the company commanders returned to their troops. The BG issued final orders, and started directing the actions of men and machine. I could see an officer issuing orders to his men, who were all kneeling in a school circle in front of him, listening rather intently. This guy was motivated, and even though I couldn't tell what he was saying, his gestures were universal...watch your sector...check geometry of fires...report what you know, then what you think. At the end of his little huddle, he pumped his fist and the men all replied with what could be called their equivalent of oohrah, before they broke formation and mounted their vehicles so that they could hit SP on time.

I think it's safe to say that we have all known some sorrow at the lost of a Marine we knew by name since we crossed the berm at what seems like such a long time ago. Our country's precious treasure poured a lot of blood into the country, and I was able to witness the result of their sacrifice. Our men did not die in vain.