Iraq War Changes Once Vibrant Soldier, Affects Family

Almost from the time of my birth, I was raised by my aunt. Her son, seven years my senior, was more like a brother than a cousin. When he joined the army, our family rejoiced. He would get to travel the world and experience a different kind of life than the rest of us. We enjoyed his tales of life in boot camp at Fort Knox. We even visited him during graduation, and he joined us on our search for the hidden gold.

When he went to Germany, we emailed each other often, and the entire family took turns sending care packages. He, in return, sent us our favorites. (Mine was German gummy bears. His mother's was antique German teapots.) When he came home the entire extended family had a special Christmas party, even though it was the middle of June. We had three years of gifts and food to catch him up on. Next he did a few tours of Saudi Arabi, and he always came home with jewelry and clothing that were completely foreign to us. A variety of soda bottles, with Arabic writing on the labels, adorns the mantel. Life was good. It was an adventure.

When he informed us of his impending first deployment, we were understandably worried. The thought that he might not come back terrified us; however we didn't know to fear, instead, the return of someone who was unknown to us. When he returned home, we once again held a party for him. Not only did we invite the family, but we also invited the close friends he'd had before he left.

While the army life had always made it hard for him to keep in touch with his old hometown buddies, he'd always asked about them and sent little messages to them through us. Imagine our surprise when he no longer wished to hear about them. At his party he was very quiet. He was civil towards those friends who had always seemed so important, but he later told us not to have them around anymore.

We rationalized it by suggesting that he just didn't want to talk about the war, but later it became more than that. He didn't call or email like he used to. Birthdays and events went un-noted as we began to hear form him less and less. The person who was always so vibrant and full of life began to try to fade into the background, content to sit unnoticed by the rest of us.

We had thought that the silence was awful, but it couldn't compare to the cruel words and arguments that we faced with his second homecoming. He seemed fine, at first. He told us stories about the men who would taunt them, trying to get the US troops to start shooting. Then one day he did a complete turn around. He suddenly seemed jealous of my younger brother and me. My brother and I had been abandoned by our own parents, and his mother took us in.

Always treated like equals, my brother and I had never felt jealous. There simply had never been any reason to. After he returned, however, there were a great many fights with his mother about the unfairness he felt at having had to share his mother with us. The person who used to be a protective son and older brother was now a stranger. It seemed that he no longer wanted to be a part of our family. Months past before we heard from him.

He'd flat refused to come for Christmas, until he found out that his step-father (the only father any of us had ever known) had been hospitalized. He flew up expecting him to die. When it became apparent that his step-father would live, my cousin then started an argument about what he thought should be his inheritance. This stunned all of us as we were trying to make the most of what had been an exhausting week-long ordeal. He left and didn't speak for five months.

He recently called to tell us he is leaving again soon. He wants to come up before he leaves. He doesn't think he will see us again. He said he was told that the troops are no longer allowed to fire their weapons, even for protection. He told us that he would rather be tried by a jury of 12 than get shot down by strangers.