Iron River

12

Dear Mom & Dad,

I apologize for not writing the last two days. I won’t go into details, but we were part of a diplomatic mission south of the border. We were successful at great cost. Jimmy is back with us, but eighteen are dead-all fourteen narcotraficantes and four Mexican policemen. Jimmy was treated very badly, but he’s going to heal up. Blowdown departed Mexico that very night and left it to Baja authorities to make some sense of it. I’m trying to make my own sense of it. At a certain point, fighting is your only choice, and I brought myself to that point willingly. I now own a full soldier’s soul, something I never quite earned in my months in Iraq. I don’t know what the cost will be to me. Right now I am numb and very tired. I’ve been here for ten days now, and they have been the bloodiest and deadliest days I’ve ever seen. I still don’t know if I’m shaping my life or if my life is shaping me. I suppose most of us never answer this question finally. I met a little man who claimed that God can put dreams into the minds of sleeping people and the devil can, too. But they don’t ever know how the person is going to react to the dream. That stuck with me though I’m not sure why. Maybe because I used to believe that God and the devil are in competition for us. I believed that when I was a kid, anyway. Or maybe because I’ve had some very strange dreams lately! I continue to believe that I belong here. What this says about me, I honestly don’t know. Yet.

Love to all,

Charlie