Sometime last evening, I read a new chapter of A Longer War by Cyclist.

This has proven to be one of my favorite stories, and many of the chapters have had a serious impact on me - especially the early ones. As the story progressed, it continued to stir my emotions and sentiments - although for different reasons. But this latest chapter, lake many of the early ones, has stricken a particular chord within me.

In the latest addition to the story, Cyclist writes of an interview in which Gerald (the main character of the story), along with other veterans, is involved in a discussion about the realities of war. The discussion turns to close quarters combat, and the difference between killing a man while you look into his eyes versus over a long distance.

For those of you unfamiliar with my past, I spent the majority of my active duty time commanding an ANGLICO detachment. As the OIC, I was the units main offensive weapon - it was my job to control naval gunfire and air strikes in support of the front line troops. The unit consists of a mixed bag of Navy and Marine Corps personnel (mostly Marines, with the odd Naval officer like myself - although one of my teams had two Navy NCO's attached as well), they are primarily used to support Marine units, although on many occasions we were sent in to support Army units in contact.

The basic structure of the unit is the team, consisting of an OIC who not only commands but also serves as the spotter, multiple RTO's, and a security unit with an NCOIC which is several rifle teams and sometimes a heavy weapons team. The purpose of the security unit is to protect the spotter so that he can do his job. You see, the units operate right beside the front line troops.

I can say without a doubt that I am responsible for killing more enemy combatants than most of the units we supported, in multiple shitholes around the third world. You see, rapid fire 5" naval rifles or snake and nape tend to kill a lot more people than .223 rounds, and in a very short time. That fact will stay with me my entire life, and I will face my maker some day for it. Much of that work was done close enough to feel the heat of the napalm and the overpressure of the shells and bombs exploding, but you still do most of your spotting without actually seeing the faces of your targets.

Yes, I am bothered by those memories at times. But what truly keeps me up at night, what truly haunts my dreams, is the teenage mujahadin I put three rounds of .45 ACP into at less than six feet when his group broke through an infantry unit we were supporting and got into my security team before they could stop them. I lost a few good friends that day while they tried to keep me safe, and I will forever feel the guilt of not bringing them home. But what keeps me up at night is the look on that kids face as I ended his life. Watching the light leave his eyes, and realizing he was but a half dozen years older than my own son.........

I served to protect the innocent from the evil in this world, but sometimes I wonder if it might have infected me somewhat. As I sit here in the dark at 3:00AM, afraid to fall asleep, afraid of what I will see - of which demons will haunt me this night, I cannot help but wonder what it is that drives men to use up their children so cavalierly. And I cannot help but hate that I was the instrument of his death. Of all of those deaths.

I would do it all again tomorrow to defend my country and the troops who fought alongside me; to protect those innocent people caught up in the mess of our current world - but that doesn't assuage my demons at night.

D