Please help the families of the fallen and wounded. They need us.
May peace be inside all of us
Cindy
http://www.thenation.com/doc/20060508/richards
War Is Personal: Carlos Arredondo/Age 45/Roslindale, Massachusetts
by EUGENE RICHARDS
I remember the war in Nicaragua in the 1980s, the contra scandal, the weapons for hostages. Oliver North took the blame for Ronald Reagan. I remember when a bomb blew up in Beirut and kill about 200 Marines. I watch them on the TV, searching for them, carrying the bodies out on stretchers, pieces of them. And what I learned of Vietnam in my country? I never understood what they was fighting for. Costa Rica, it was my home when I was a boy, and we had the same climate, same weather, and I was afraid the United States would someday come to Costa Rica and do the same thing. So, when my son told me at age 17 that he was going to join the service, I said, "Oh, no," and he said, "Don't worry, Dad."
His mother knew the whole time. Then they told me last, I guess because they know how I was feeling. The Marines had an office in the high school and the recruiters know everything, know who comes from divided families, especially when the father's not around. They offer Alex thousands of dollars for signing up and help with college. Though we share custody, one parent can sign. His mother sign the paper. From that moment on, of course, I support my son. I had US Marine bumper stickers on my car, flags in my home, letting people know, even though I didn't want him to go.
Alex went to basic training in California, then more training. Then, because he wasn't being told anything by the military, he began asking me for information about the Middle East, about what the President is saying. Next thing I know, my son is being made ready for urban combat. Next thing he's on the way to Kuwait, on the way to Iraq, and I'm here at home learning that there's no nuclear armaments there, there's none of them. I'm starting to learn all this, and my son is on the way there.
So much happen. I have two TVs at the same time, the radio on. I can't go to sleep. I've been married with Mel seven years, working as a bus driver, part time, sometimes a landscaper and painter, but I can't go to work, because I want to know what happen. I was worried, very worried, by reading all the newspapers and concentrating too much on the war on the TV. I see how my son got from here to Iraq, see them prepare for invasion, see sandstorms, they reach the Tigris River, and two Marines got killed there, and my son was traveling inside a tank that was very noisy, a lot of fuel smells. All along I see the minister of information for Saddam Hussein on TV say, "I'm going to kill all of them." I see all the sadness, see how they kill, see how the Marines move through the dark alleyways, kick doors, blindfold people, while afraid most of the time for snipers and bombs. I was all the time calling the Marines and the Red Cross, asking them about the situation. I hear nothing about my son for days and days. It was too much, too much, too much for parents.
Next thing I know, I see soldiers rolling into Baghdad, people at the side of the road saying hello, welcome, and I was very happy. And I say, "Thank God." The statue go down, they catch Saddam, and I see the President of the US landing on the air carrier with big signs saying, "Mission Accomplished." And I say, "Oh my God, it's over. The war is over."
The 25th of August in 2004 was the day of my birthday, and I was expecting a phone call from Alex, which he never miss, to say, "Happy Birthday, Dad." My mother start baking a cake, and I was working outside with my cell phone in my pocket when I saw the Marines get off the van. Thought it was a surprise, and my happiness was overwhelming. Next thing, the Marines ask me if I was Carlos Arredondo. I don't understand why they asking me that, and I don't see my son anywhere. I even ask them, "Are you guys here to recruit some kids?" because I have a second son, a 16-year-old, Brian. And he said, "I'm sorry, I'm coming to notify you that Alexander Arredondo got killed in combat." At that moment, not expecting those words, my world tumbled and I felt my heart go down to the ground and rush up through my throat. I run from my house to the backyard, looking for my mother to tell her what these men were saying. And she run to try to talk to them, while I was trying to call Maine to reach Alex's mother. Brian answer the phone and because I was in tears, all I could say was, "Sorry, I'm sorry. They're telling me your brother got killed." And Brian said, "I know that, I know." "How do you know that?" "'Cause the Marines, they're here right now, and when I saw them coming, I know."
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