DVS
After arriving in Afghanistan, the units separated into the areas of operations they would be working at for the remainder of the year. The Female Engagement Team members had to stay back to do more training on cultural support. We were in this training for a few weeks. I received a message on my Facebook from a high school friend who said he was deploying to Afghanistan as well. This friend of mine was also best friends with one of my best guy friends that I saw when I was back in Arizona. We became close back home. A few days later, he messaged me again on Facebook, and to my surprise, he's asked me where I was.
I let him know that I was in Kandahar, and he told me that he had just landed in Kandahar. I was so excited to be able to see somebody from my hometown in a place that was so far away. That night I went to the MWR, where we would spend time playing spades. They had a karaoke night and pool tables for the troops. As I was walking out that night, I saw my friend, I jumped for joy and gave him a big hug. We talked for about 2 hours at night. I was excited to have a little piece of home. The relationship I had with him was me looking up to him as a mentor since he had joined the army right out of high school, and I joined at the age of 21. He always gave me advice and was available to talk if I had any issues in my personal life, relationship life, as well as in my career. He always told me not to let what people say about me get to me and to continue doing what I was doing because he was proud of the woman that I had become. The next day after I saw him, I left for my area of operations that I was going to be in for the rest of the year, And I said goodbye to him, thinking that I wouldn't see him anymore out there. Once I arrived at the area of operations where I was going to be for the next year, it was boots on the ground, missions, and staying busy. I was in a small compound with a few people, but when the companies needed us to go out with them as a team, they would come and pick us up and take us to whatever location we were required. About two weeks after I had arrived and began to work and get a routine, I received a message from my friend asking me exactly where my location was in Afghanistan. To our surprise, we ended up working in the same area of operation. Now my friend was on an ODA team, which is a team for special forces, so it wasn't like we work specifically with one another, but we were able to see one another, which was nice. One day he messaged me and let me know that he would be at my compound the next day, then he was excited to see me, and of course, I was so excited to see him. We both have already been in that area for about a month, maybe.
The next day was a typical day. I woke up, went to the gym, had breakfast, and got ready for the day. I don't remember much of the rest of the day. His best friend called me that day probably before noon and asked me what I was doing if I had seen him and why don't I know more information. I didn't know what he was talking about, I told him, "Hey, calm down. I just spoke to him yesterday, and I'll see him later today." He then goes on it says, "you're not going to see him, you're not going to see him, he's dead." I said, "no, there's no way I haven't heard anything about anyone dying today. Let me check on it and see if I could find any information". He told me, "Jeanette, he's dead he died I just got off the phone with his mom, and I know you're there, and I know you could you see him; please tell me it's not true." I didn't know what to do but to cry. I screamed. I collected myself, and I went to ask if anyone knew if anyone had died that day. My friend didn't come that day to see me because he had stepped on IED and he died. I lost the piece of home that I thought I had while I was in Afghanistan. I never talked about it. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried the next day when I was in my room. They told us the news the next day that a soldier had died in our area. They didn't say who it was, and since he was on it an ODA-Team, my people didn't know him just me. While Afghanistan, this is sad to say, it became a regular thing that we heard at least once a week about a soldier. Someone that we might have known who had got shot injured lost their life. The unit I deployed with lost 21 men. It was a hard time, and that doesn't include the men and women who got injured.
The hard thing about losing my friend wasn't that he was my best friend or that he was the closest person to me. It was missing a person that was close to somebody that I loved a person who was my mentor and helped me through things that I couldn't talk to other people about him. I didn't want to accept that he had died. I always kept it to myself. I acted as if he was just still out there kicking ass. After about a year after this happened, his mom reached out to me, and she asked me to have lunch with her whenever I was in town because she wanted to talk to the person who last saw her son. I never gave her that opportunity. I also have not had gone to visit his grave.
The next day was a typical day. I woke up, went to the gym, had breakfast, and got ready for the day. I don't remember much of the rest of the day. His best friend called me that day probably before noon and asked me what I was doing if I had seen him and why don't I know more information. I didn't know what he was talking about, I told him, "Hey, calm down. I just spoke to him yesterday, and I'll see him later today." He then goes on it says, "you're not going to see him, you're not going to see him, he's dead." I said, "no, there's no way I haven't heard anything about anyone dying today. Let me check on it and see if I could find any information". He told me, "Jeanette, he's dead he died I just got off the phone with his mom, and I know you're there, and I know you could you see him; please tell me it's not true." I didn't know what to do but to cry. I screamed. I collected myself, and I went to ask if anyone knew if anyone had died that day. My friend didn't come that day to see me because he had stepped on IED and he died. I lost the piece of home that I thought I had while I was in Afghanistan. I never talked about it. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried the next day when I was in my room. They told us the news the next day that a soldier had died in our area. They didn't say who it was, and since he was on it an ODA-Team, my people didn't know him just me. While Afghanistan, this is sad to say, it became a regular thing that we heard at least once a week about a soldier. Someone that we might have known who had got shot injured lost their life. The unit I deployed with lost 21 men. It was a hard time, and that doesn't include the men and women who got injured.
The hard thing about losing my friend wasn't that he was my best friend or that he was the closest person to me. It was missing a person that was close to somebody that I loved a person who was my mentor and helped me through things that I couldn't talk to other people about him. I didn't want to accept that he had died. I always kept it to myself. I acted as if he was just still out there kicking ass. After about a year after this happened, his mom reached out to me, and she asked me to have lunch with her whenever I was in town because she wanted to talk to the person who last saw her son. I never gave her that opportunity. I also have not had gone to visit his grave.