Excerpt for Always Loved, Always Remembered by Theresa Johnson, available in its entirety at Smashwords

Always Loved, Always Remembered

A Military Tribute

By: Theresa Johnson

and Various Authors



Copyright 2011

Published by Theresa Johnson at Smashwords

This e-book is licensed for you personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, then please return this to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.






This book is dedicated to the men and women of the US Armed Forces, contractors of the US Armed Forces, and their families. This is our way of saying thank you for the great effort that you have given to our country. Your work and charity to us has not gone unnoticed. You are the walking and talking definition of a hero. Thank you.


I would also like to take a moment to thank the ones who have made this e-book possible. Thank you Brandy Parrish and David Lanier (also known as Mystic Dave) for the fine works of literary art that you both have supplied for inclusion in this e-book. Thank you to Christopher Ruetschle and REPuckett for sharing some of your memories with us. Thank you to Lt. Jamie Hawke, Mrs. Heather Hawke, and Mackenzie for the beautiful cover picture. I would also like to thank Mrs. Heather Hawke and Mackenzie for the beautiful and touching letters that they contributed. Without these people, this project would never have been quite as great as it was to work on.


Enjoy.


Theresa Johnson

The Thanksgiving Feast

By: Theresa Johnson


The turkey upon the table

Only three of four chairs filled

Holidays are lonely

They wish he were at home still


A picture sits

At daddy’s seat

A picture of him and his family

Sits there while they eat


Their dad can’t be home

For the Thanksgiving feast

Since in Afghanistan he sits

Waiting to call home at the least


He may be home

By Christmas if all go well

Until the orders come, though,

Afghanistan is where he will have to dwell.


So when you sit down

For you Thanksgiving feast

Remember our military men, women

And their families at least

"The Call to Prayer"
REPuckett

I was in Afghanistan and was one of about forty paratroopers sent to a particular area on the northeastern border in a town called Khost. The mere forty of us were sent there to set up a forward operating base (FOB) to support an anticipated infantry battalion. The only U.S. military element there before us was six special forces soldiers. They left the same day we arrived.

This area had a decent presence of Al Qaeda and Taliban combatants. The six special forces soldiers had already established a basic triple perimeter around the area. They also made a deal with the local warlord to have Afghan militants guard the outermost perimeter for a generous financial compensation authorized by the U.S. Government, of course. Well, our small element of forty paratroopers was not privy to this deal. When the special forces soldiers pulled out, the militants stopped getting paid. Since they stopped getting paid, they decided to stop guarding the outer perimeter and spread the word to the local resistance and even allowed them access beyond our perimeter. Again, we were completely oblivious to any of this as yet.

We hadn't been there two days and I was on guard duty manning the .50 caliber machine gun on the wall of the innermost perimeter. It was evening and getting dark. After a couple of hours passed, I was observing my sector of fire and saw an individual approximately 500 yards out. I watched to see what he was doing, if he had anything with him in the way of weapons, if there were any more of them; that sort of thing. He didn't seem to have any kind of weapon from what I could tell. He was very far away so, he possibly could have had anything without me being able to discern it. However, he seemed to be just walking back and forth in one spot and stopping every now and then and looking in my direction. At one point he laid down on his side and just watched. He was doing the same thing when I was relieved by another paratrooper assuming guard duty. I passed the information on to my relief as well as my chain of command.

I then went to my tent, took off my Kevlar helmet and vest and then laid down with my weapon always beside me. About fifteen minutes passed and I was just starting to doze off when I heard a distinct sound. It was the sound of a mortar flying through the air and the sound was getting closer very quickly. As if a collective awareness hit us all at once, every one of us in the tent hit the floor while attempting to cover ourselves with our vests and Kevlar helmets to protect us from the impending explosion as best as we could. The sound got closer and closer as we braced ourselves. The moment of impact was upon us and we all believed we were dead. At that point I heard a loud thud, a bounce and a roll. Mortars generally explode on impact. A brief moment passed when we realized it was a dud.

I could not believe that we were still alive. After a quick, silent expression of gratitude, we all threw on our gear, grabbed our weapons and took our positions on the wall. The position I took on the wall wasn't more than fifteen feet from where I had just come off guard duty. This was the beginning of my very first battle. The sight I saw from my position on the wall was surreal. About the same distance where that guy was earlier, was a long line of approximately sixty enemy combatants. Remember, there were only about forty of us. They stretched almost all the way around our inner perimeter just barely surrounding us but not quite. It is when the first rounds are fired that you really begin to entertain the prospect of not seeing the sun rise. The fight had begun.

I was laying down more suppressive fire than anything trying to keep them from advancing on us any further, but I wounded a few that I know of. The battle had lasted a couple hours. Some would charge at us giving up their lives hoping to take some of us with them. Some held their position and continued to fire on us. Their numbers began to dwindle and some ran away while those that remained gave up there lives in a last ditch effort to take ours.

It was one of these more brave individuals that came charging in my direction. I have always been a very good marksman. However, I fired around him hoping it would help to dissuade him from his intentions; it did not. I still delayed the ultimate choice until I knew that there was, indeed, no other choice. At that time, I willed myself not to think about what I was doing and I placed three rounds directly in the middle of his chest. He fell quickly and lay motionless. That was the first time I had ever taken a life.

It is hard to tell you my state of mind shortly after that. It wasn't more than a half hour afterwards that all was quiet and the sun began to rise. Have you ever seen the sun rise in the desert? It's beauty spreads across the entire horizon and is nearly indescribable. It was ironic, however, to see this magnificent sunrise cast its brilliant golds, reds, and oranges upon a field of death. I sat and took this surreal view in while I had a cigarette and contemplated the implications of what I had just done. There were no sounds; just the wind and my thoughts.

All of a sudden the silence was broken by the call to prayer. Never before had I felt the reality of the situation I was in than at that precise moment. I had a very difficult time justifying what I had done. I began to think of how I had taken a son away from his mother and pondered how my mother would feel if it had been me. I began to think of the possibility of him having a wife and kids hoping that he comes home. When it came down to it, the only way of justifying it was to tell yourself that I possibly saved countless lives by taking one. Maybe he could have been the next suicide bomber with a bomb strapped to him in the middle of a couple hundred civilians in the cities business center looking for employment. Or maybe he could have been the one that gave a bomb to that seven-year-old girl to take it to the nearest U.S. troop killing him and herself and as many others that were nearby.

While I formed justifications to find reconciliation for my actions, I found that solace in the call to prayer. Its mesmerizing tone resonating in my own psyche. Just that among all of this death, faith still existed somehow; somewhere. I stood up and walked over to the body of the man I had just killed. I noticed that he had dog tags on which was strange since most of them didn't. I bent over and took one of them and put it in my pocket. I have that dog tag to this day. We removed forty-nine bodies, five of them were ours, from the desert floor that morning while the call to prayer was carried on the wind from the top of a distant minaret. We worked to clear the field in utter silence as if we all collectively agreed to allow the Call to Prayer to dominate our senses at that time. Its sound continues to haunt me to this day bringing the memory of an epiphany; the true value of life.

My Dad The Soldier

By: Brandy Parrish


A little girl asks for her daddy to read her a story,
So, her mother puts in this night’s recording.
This little girl sets the table, for a family of three,
But only two at the table is all we see.
A little boy hits his first homerun,
His mom records it, so dad can watch his son.
A little boy falls and scrapes his knee;
His mom kisses it twice and says, “from dad and me”.

A teenage girl goes to her first prom,
Pictures are sent to dad, by a very proud mom.
A teenage girl walks, across the graduation stage,
Her mom cries as she knows that dad missed this important day.
A teenage boy gets his first car,
His mom smiles and tells him how proud her and his dad are.
A teenage boy is troubled about this thing called romance;
His mom talks him through it, since his dad doesn’t have the chance.

Yes, it is true that these dads seem to not be around.
But a case of abandonment will not be found.
For the dads in this poem are not gone because they want to be,
They are simply fighting, for us to stay free.
These dads are our soldiers that give up their lives,
So they can protect us, they go to the fight.
These dads have given more than their share for us.
Don’t you think it is time for us to Thank them for caring so much?

They leave families at home, and go overseas
Some give up their lives, so we can stay free.
So, find you a soldier and thank them today,
For without them, our lives would be in disarray.

Holidays

By: Theresa Johnson


Things go on as normal

This holiday season

Something that many take for granted

Here is the reason


At Fort Bragg

Live a mother and two kids

Wondering if the daddy will

Be their Christmas gift


At Fort Pierce

A young wife of barely 24

Cries alone

She just heard her soldier will

not be coming home anymore


Down in Mayport

A young soldier’s mother

Is hearing the news

Her grandchild is without a father


Yet the rest of us

Shop and eat and shop some more

Never knowing

The fear of the knock at the door


The knock telling families

Your loved one is gone

The rest of us

Just keep living on


This holiday season

Loved your family, but open your eyes and see

The gifts our soldiers have given,

Freedom has never been free.


We Salute You

By: Theresa Johnson


To men and women

Who have fought to protect us

We Salute you


To those soldiers who have died

And their families left to cry

We Salute You


To the Civilian Contractors

Whom had be sent overseas

We salute you too


To the ones still active

And made to live on foreign lands

We Salute you


Whether alive, dead, retired

Missing, disabled, or still believing that

You are fighting the good fight

Out hats are off

In love, admiration, and remembrance

We thank you.


Back In ‘Nam

By: Theresa Johnson


Policing Action

War was more like it

Help fight communism

That is what we were told


Fight the good fight

Support Uncle Sam

I despise that life now

A soldier is what I once was

Human, now, is what I am


I watched children die

In the jungle nights

I watched their last tears fall

As the bombs would ignite


A soldier holding a child

Stepped on a punji stick

Over the next few days

He became deathly sick


Another soldier

Lost his life as he slept

Leaving behind a pregnant wife

Who devastatingly wept


Many returned home

Forever having their lives changed

No longer able to function

Others look on just thinking that they are strange


Death tolls climbed high

Police action, yeah right

My hat is off

To the soldiers who were forced to fight that fight

Memory

Christopher Ruetschle



I went to basic training at Ft. Benning, Ga in the summer of 2001. I have to say, it was defiantly an experience. Lots of physical training and mental preparation. I enjoyed U.S. weapons week and the field exercises.

I was at Ft Jackson for AIT. My MOS was 71L (administration specialist). A lot of class room work. I found out I could type 93 words a minute while half asleep!

My permanent duty station was at Ft Hood, Tx. I spent my 4 year duty tour there with the excetion of my 12 month deployment to Iraq in May of 2003. I worked as a Pac clerk in the S1 shop of 180th trans bn, hhd. Right before deployment i transfered to one of our line units... the 406th ttp as the pac ncoic.

My unit was deployed for 12 months to Iraq from May 2003 to May 2004. I think my most memorable memory is after we returned from what ever missions... we would sit around baker's coffee can fire and talk about whatever came to mind.

Personally... I want to give thanks to all who have served. But more importantly, the families who supported us. I know if it wasnt for the calls and emails from my wife... it would have been much harder out there. Thank you, Ami! To those comrades who have fallen and their families, thank you very much. Your loved ones gave the ultimate sacrifice for us all! May God be with you all.









What Can I do Daddy?

By: Theresa Johnson


What can I do daddy

To make you come home?

What can I do daddy

So you are no longer alone?


Why do you cry daddy

When our calls are done?

Why do you hurt daddy

When you could be here having fun?


Where are you now daddy?

Why are you not here with me?

Please come home soon daddy.

Home is where you need to be.


You are my hero daddy

I look up to you, you know.

Please write back soon daddy.

I love you so.


Bless The Veterans

By: David Lanier



Another Veteran’s Day is upon us, so we
need to remember
the call to serve
is answered by
the courageous, who sacrifice everything,
to go off and fight
in foreign lands.
Their lives are
changed suddenly,
from the fear and horrors they face.
The physical
wounds they endure,
soon heal, but their tortured souls
 forever endure the memories
and sorrows of
their dreadful war. Of course there
are differing opinions
as to why the government leads
people into battle.
Regardless of
all that, our vets
deserve our undying
gratitude and support,
for all they have
been put through.
So many veterans
return home with emotional wounds
so deep, they have difficulty
dealing with their
"normal lives back
in the world."
So a lot of
them wander the

lonely streets,
confused, broken
and shattered,
mourning the
ones who died,
and wondering
why they didn't.
Their wars back
home are usually
harder than the
wars they left behind,
due to lack of
 understanding from the
people around them.
Instead of turning
the other cheek,
embrace these
tortured vets,
showing compassion
and  gratitude
for their service.
They will carry the scars of war deep
in their souls until
the day they die.
With a lot of help,
love and understanding,
it will show these vets,
their battles were not
fought for nothing.

Our Soldiers

By: Theresa Johnson


Blood has spilled
on this night.
Corpses are the only thing
Visible by the moon's light.

The war was said to be over
They were coming home soon
Yet the fighting keep coming
In the dark of the moon.

The ground that surrounds them
has been painted red.
Here in the desert
Too many are dead.

They said they'd come home
They would leave that place soon
Yet the fighting kept going
By the light of the moon.

The fighting waged on
until all of them had died.
Not a single one came home
Only families left behind to cry.

For this was a police action
At least the government says
To me it is still war
For we face the same regrets.

We watch loved one
and wait to here the news.
This is just my opinion,
We all have our own views.

The men and women that fight for us
Have given us that.
They place their lives on the line
which is a gift that can not be given back.




So cherish that gift.
Teach other to do the same
Cherish those who lives it cost
Take the time to learn their name.

Let our soldier know
We remember why they are there.
Send a shoebox of goodies
or just a note to show you care.


Contracted to Hell

By: Theresa Johnson


I never held the gun

I never fought the fight

I just did my job

And did it right


I was contracted here

A civilian like you

Just doing a job

Like any one would do


My contract did not say

You will never go back

It did not say

I would be attacked


I was contracted to Hell

And there was no place to go

I was contracted to Hell

Leaving behind all the people I know




On the next two pages are two very special letters. They are from the two wonderful ladies in the cover photo. Lt. Jamie Hawke, your wife and daughter wanted you to know how truly loved you are.



Dear Daddy,

I love and miss you so very much when you are gone on deployments. It makes me so sad that I haven't seen you much at all since I was born, but it makes me so happy to see you on the computer when mommy can call you on skype. Mommy made me my very own photo album with pictures of you, me and mommy (mostly you and me) that I carry around EVERYWHERE with me. I give you kisses all the time and show it to everyone! It is my very favorite toy and mommy says that I can talk to you in the pictures and you can hear me too. The pictures were of the last time that I saw you, when you took me and mommy to the airplane when we were being evacuated from Japan because of the earthquake and tsunami. I was only 2 months old but can remember you holding me and saying goodbye for the last time. Mommy was crying a lot and I know she really misses you too. I can't wait to see you and be able to play with you all the time and even give you hugs and kisses in person. You are my hero and I love you so very much! Every time I see or hear a plane flying in the sky, I wave and mommy says, "there's daddy", so I get really excited and giggle. I grab every phone in the house and scream DA-DA into it hoping that you are on the other end. Da-da and daddy were my very first words (on Father's Day) because I love and miss you so very much! Mommy is very sad with out you here also, but I sure do keep her busy to try to keep her mind off of you being gone all the time. Please stay safe daddy and know that I think about you all the time and mommy and I love and miss you very much! I am so proud to have a daddy in the military and fighting for our freedom and safety. I wish I could go flying with you one day and land on the air craft carrier too. You are the best daddy ever!

Love,
Your little girl
Mackenzie




Jamie (Bubbers)-

I just wanted to write you a short letter you let you know how proud we are of you and how much we miss you! Every time I look at our daughter, I see you in her and it brings a smile to my face. She is growing up so fast and I am afraid that you won't even recognize her when you get home. She is talking, crawling, eating everything in sight, and trying to walk already. You have missed so much over the past 8 months, but I am trying to take as many pictures as I can so you can still watch her grow. I think about you all the time and wish that you were here with us, but know that you are in our hearts. Mackenzie is so much like you and looks identical to you sometimes that it just makes my heart so happy and feels like you are here with us in a way. We can't wait for your homecoming and I can't wait to see Mackenzie's reaction to you and watch the two of you interact with each other. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. Just know how proud we are of you and that we pray for your safety every night at bedtime. I worry myself sick all the time thinking about you landing on the ship and flying around all day everyday. I can't turn on the news much anymore because I worry about what I might see or hear. I wait by the phone and computer every night just to get a message one way or another that you are safe and sound, and those nights that I don't get anything, I sit up and worry and wonder. I can't help but worry about you and think about you daily. I am just so grateful that you are coming home soon. I can't wait to have you in my arms again!! I miss and love you more than anything!! Hurry home soon and please stay safe. I love you more than the whole wide world and back again.

Love,
Heather (Sweet Pea)







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