IRAN/IRAQ BORDER

SSG Gipson talks border operations

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2010 Cold Bowl

Highlights from the Sledgehammer Cold Bowl, where NCOs take on Officers. Up for grabs are bragging rights for the whole year.

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HAMMER - hardships, hearts & heroes - Episode 1

During the fall of 2009, the 3rd Heavy Brigade Combat Team. 3rd Infantry Division, deployed for their fourth tour in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. From the spearhead to the surge, the Sledgehammer Brigade has seen sweeping change in their mission. This is their story.

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Saying Goodbye to Bravery

Story by: Sgt. Ben Hutto

FOB KALSU, Iraq – As an American Soldier, I've witnessed bravery in a variety of forms. Whether it was observing my battle buddy overcome his fear of heights and repel down a 20 foot tower during basic training or watching one of my best friends overcome the amputation of both his legs and become an amazing non-commissioned officer, I've seen countless instances of men and women setting aside their fears and and doing what they had to do.

To be honest, I've sort of come to expect it.

I believe this determination is instilled in most Soldiers during basic training and is further developed as we serve around people who have learned to push through their anxieties in order to fulfill the oath they took to defend our country.

As I returned home from my 15 day leave, I saw it again in the most unlikely of places.

My six year old son isn't a warrior. He didn't volunteer to be the child of a Soldier. In all honesty, his opinions have very little effect on me when I start talking about deployments and how long I'm going to be away.

He is put in the unfortunate situation of being stuck with my decision to serve our country.

I'm sure he is proud of me most days, but there are sacrifices he must endure in my absence.

Dad isn't there for every holiday or birthday.

I can't tuck him into bed every night.

When he goes to Cub Scouts, he is one of the few boys whose father isn't there.

The list of every day things that I'm absent for could go on for pages and it takes a toll on his young psyche.

He has nightmares some nights. Most nights, he sleeps in my bed with his mother for reassurance.

Many days, he asks her if I'm going to come back home. He has been pulled out of school to deal with separation anxiety, further making him "different" from the children around him and hindering his ability to be a good student.

It isn't fair. I'll admit that.

Despite my best efforts to provide for him and his younger brother, they are both forced to live in a single parent home every deployment.

Both of them live with the specter of Daddy not coming home or returning home with an injury they can't understand. My oldest has seen one of Daddy's injured friends, the one with the "robot" legs, and noticed that Daddy walks with a limp now.

A six year old might not understand all of the details, but he has a unique perspective of what war is and he also understands what that could mean for me.

Unfortunately, I ask him to accept this and not worry. I ask him to go about his life "like normal" and await my return.

To be honest, I try not to think about what a huge task that is.

For many of us, "talking to the kids about deployment" is one bullet on a huge list of important things we have to get done before we get on the plane to go overseas.

I wish I could say that I've eased my child's mind and he is performing normally, I wish I could say he doesn't cry when he talks about Daddy being gone, I wish he wouldn't worry that Mommy is going to leave him now, as well; but that isn't the case.

There are a lot of days he struggles with it, and I hope one day I can help him understand how proud I am of him for the sacrifice he is making.

I want to pull him close and thank him for being as brave as any Soldier I've ever served with.

Armed only with a child's hope that "everything will be ok," he has done a wonderful job of getting through this deployment.

Unlike me, my kids will never get an award for their service. Generals typically don't give "Hooah" coins to children.

The only award they will receive is the countless toys and kisses they'll get from me when I get off the plane next October.

For them, it is enough.

As I got out of my car at the airport, I walked around to the backseat to give him a kiss goodbye.

I opened the door to see him, his eyes shrink wrapped in tears, trying to give me a gapped tooth smile despite a quivering lip.

I smiled my best reassuring smile, gave him a big hug and kiss, and told him "It's going to be all right, bud. I'll be home soon. I promise."

Without shedding a tear, he just gave me another quivering kiss on the lips and whispered, "I know, Daddy. I love you. Please come back quick."

That, folks, is as brave a thing as you'll ever see. Take it from someone who sees it every day.

What Was Your Name Again?

Story By: SGT Natalie Rostek

FORWARD OPERATING BASE ECHO, Iraq – You never really know who someone is until you care enough to ask. I'll be the first to admit that there are many people in my life I would say that I know, but when I try to think of their names I draw a blank.

I know I'm not alone on this.

A wise man -- I'll call him Sgt. Maj. Richard Hairston -- once told me, "there are a lot of Soldiers with interesting stories but no one talks to them long enough to hear them."

I thought about that and you know what? It's true.

That Soldier at the dining facility who watches you swipe your card. You know, that guy. He may have just had a baby. Maybe his dog died. Who knows?

What about the guy at the laundry facility? The one to whom you give your underwear. Do you know him? Do you even know his name?

I used to make fun of my dad, Joe Rostek. He could start at one end of a room and by the time he reached the other side he would have interacted with everyone there.

"Hi. Good morning. How are you today? Nice seeing you. Take it easy." Or he would just shake their hand.

I noticed myself doing it when I went away to college. On my way to class I found that I could not pass someone without making eye contact, smiling, and saying something. Anything to let that person know, "I acknowledge your presence."

I do it now too. "Good morning. How are you? Looks like you're having a good day. So where do you work?"

I just find it awkward if I don't.

I am my father's daughter which may be why I went into public affairs. I love talking to people. There are so many people out there with stories, really, really good stories. Sometimes when I'm conducting an interview, we get off topic. Then the person tells me something and I'm blown away.

Did you know there are Soldiers out there who play in rock bands back home? Did you know there are Soldiers who are on their fifth deployment? Did you know there are privates and specialists who were restaurant managers, teachers, and lawyers but left their jobs to join the Army?

The funny thing is, I not only know, but I can remember the names of these Soldiers: Jorge, Scott, Ryan, Jonathan, and James (but he goes by his middle name, Brad.)

I know their names because they left footprints in my life. They weren't just passing faces, they were voices. I feel confident saying I know these people. I don't just know "of" them but I know them. If I saw them out on the street I could approach them and they would remember me too. It's all because I took the time to talk to them.

Now, you don't have to be public affairs like me to talk to people. I just got lucky. My dad is a contractor in Baltimore city but I bet if I asked, he could tell me the names and family members of his work crew, his customers, their neighbors, the homeless guys on the corner, the vendors at Camden Yards, and the waitresses of every diner in the city.

And I'm sure they know him too.