Flowers in the Streets

After the Thunder Runs, Baghdad rested for several weeks before erupting into utter violence. We expected flowers in the streets, a simple measure of gratitude for liberation. Instead, Iraqis flocked to our tanks asking for money, cell phones, internet, and Walmart. You name it, they begged for it. I did not know what to make of it. In one of my dumber moments, I deflected responsibility to “the next unit,” the guys who would relieve 3rd Infantry Division. My war was supposed to be over. After a year in the Middle East, we attacked from Kuwait to Baghdad in shock and awe.

I did not know what to do. I assumed we had a plan in place for reconstruction and stability operations. I suppose that is what I get for assuming. In one of my final patrols, I saw some graffiti on the walls. The memory strikes vividly to this day. In English, it stated, “#### Bush, Go Home.” I wasn’t sure how to interpret that at the time. When we drove through the streets, the people respectfully waved and smiled. Right after we redeployed to Kuwait, 1LT Graham White, a friend and former roommate serving in the Ranger Regiment, was struck with one of the first IEDs, a small explosive device thrown from a bridge. After twice being declared clinically dead, he made it back to a full recovery. I started thinking maybe we had messed something up in our assumptions on the validity of this war.

Safely back at Fort Stewart, Georgia, I asked my new commander about my concerns.

“Sir, this doesn’t feel right. I don’t think Iraq is going to end so quickly.”

“Mike, you’re thinking too much. Within six months, this place will be like Bosnia.

I wish I had been wrong. I wish there had been flowers in the streets. Upon redeployment, I could hardly step foot on a tank. I hated to pick up my weapon and go to the range for marksmanship training. I would cry uncontrollably driving in to work. I had raging headaches that would not go away. My vision was blurred. I could not understand what was wrong with me. I hid my shame under the medals of valor on my chest. I thought maybe that would make it better. It did not work. I was searching for validation of our deeds as Iraq began to descend into chaos.