Sisters soldiers want to go back to Iraq

The landscape is a monotone of sand. Plagues of flies surround your face. Sand fleas harass your body. The sun pounds down like a hammer, hitting 147 degrees. You live on an island inside the wire. No freedom. Out-of-your-mind boredom- except when you face intense danger.

This is a small picture of war in Iraq. Why would anyone want go back?

"Brotherhood," says Cory Macauley.

Spc. Cory Macauley (SHS 2001) serves with the Army National Guard B/3-116th Cavalry. Macauley enlisted in the Oregon Army National Guard in August 2001. His goal was to fund his college education. Just 12 days later came the terrorist attacks of 9/11. In March of 2003, the U.S. invaded Iraq.

Macauley was deployed from December 2004 through November 2005 as a cavalry scout, a combat soldier.

"I began (my enlistment) with schooling in mind, but now that's all changed," he said. "It's difficult to simply pick up where you left off, the things you've left behind, and to start up again. Anything I can think of lacks depth to what I've seen and been through."

The contrast between a war zone and small-town Sisters couldn't be more striking.

"We are so fortunate here in the U.S. to live in a peaceful environment," he said.

Spc. Brian Jimerson would agree.

"I'm just so glad to be home!" he said, during his recent leave in Sisters. "This little town makes it bearable over there. There are people here who support me."

Jimerson (SHS 2005) of the Army 3/2 Striker Cavalry Regiment enlisted in August of 2005. Knowing college wasn't what he was after, he became a vehicle commander on a striker (high mobility unit) instead. Jimerson is stationed in Vilsec, Germany and is on deployment in Iraq.

Jimerson has seen little kids playing with the toys he's handed out, and he's seen them with suicide bombs strapped on.

"I've seen the Iraqis' capacity for good and for evil, their good outweighs their evil," he said.

Both soldiers want to return to the combat zone, even after close and painful brushes with death.

While on leave Jimerson spent some time visiting with and supporting the parents of fellow soldier Sgt. Zach McBride of Bend. The McBrides' son died in a bomb blast in Iraq just four weeks ago. On January 9, 2008, working on a tip from a local Iraqi, Spc. Jimerson, along with other members of his unit, were on a mission to investigate the location of some insurgents and a potential cache of weapons.

Sgt. McBride was in the lead; Spc. Jimerson was covering them from the rear. The house was a trap. The searing flash and penetrating blast from the deafening explosion threw Jimerson far into the street and slammed him up against his vehicle, leaving him to stare at the smoking cement rubble before him. He helped carry out of the debris seven of his fellow soldiers.

"It was the worst day of my life," Jimerson said.

Spc. Macauley knows what a brush with death feels like. In March 2005 he was traveling in a convoy in Iraq. An IED (Improvised Explosive Device) lay buried under the dusty roads on the outskirts of Kirkuk undetected by trained eyes.

The humvee directly in front of him carrying his friend Staff Sergeant Kevin Davis was struck. The impact tore the vehicle in pieces from the engine block to a twisted chassis and rear axle. Macauley was early on the scene to assess the damage, attend to the wounded and call for medical support for his squad leader and the others.

Staff Sergeant Davis died from his wounds.

The Army brings a lot of its soldiers home through military towns in Texas, New York and elsewhere. Amid the hollers of welcome home, the pats on the back from complete strangers, and the offers to use a cell phone to call home these men were proud to be in uniform.

"I have a lot more patriotism for my country and a lot more appreciation for opportunities to help other countries," said Macauley.

But back home, they don't see uniforms walking around the streets of Sisters and there's not a high degree of awareness about their work.

"Most people will never comprehend what it's like being a soldier, being in combat, being over there. We need to decompress and adjust; each of us is different in how that happens.

"Taking the life of someone who believes in his cause as much as I do..., I'm OK with not making sense out of it now," Macauley said.

Can the gap between civilians and combat soldiers be crossed? What is the bridge?

"Care packages from home, even from people you've never met made me feel supported," said Macauley.

While home, these soldiers don't hear the "thunk" of the launch, the high pitched whistle of an incoming mortar round and the explosion to know where it just landed. They don't smell the acrid stench of burnt rubber and human flesh after an IED has detonated. They don't see tan colored streets lined with cars, tanks and children all intermingled.

Yet, both have the names of those who gave their lives encircling their wrists, engraved on a bracelet. And both have re-enlisted. Both have a compelling need from deep within to be back with their brothers.

There's no guarantee they will make it back to Iraq. Maybe they can't go back but they will never forget.