The End

"Search for the answers I knew all along

I lost myself, we all fall down
Never the wiser of what I've become
Alone I stand a broken man"
-Without You, Breaking Benjamin

Those last few weeks in Iraq were interesting: absurd orders shuttled down through pipelines we'd all but forgotten about in our year of deployment; panic in the levels of leadership over minor details; insane people running crazed as if the world was ending. But it didn't. And there were no major issues, just images of majority crumbling left and right, day dreams for those too blind to dream in vision.

After countless days spent withering under the auspices of Bravo company, and countless more spent celebrating with Alpha company, the scattered members of Team 3 boarded the final jet back to the U.S.
Life, the series of successes and escapes, had culminated into one final combination of the two.

We flew back, gleeful and exhausted. Thin and strong, tried and tested. And we came back as a fragment of the team we left as, placed onto other teams, other elements, other units. But once again united in Kuwait we were the same as when we started. Cocky and arrogant. Loyal and hard.

Since that trip though, that return flight, much has occurred.

Goblin King, on orders to the training center in Fort Huachuca, packed his bags and left. Before his final exit however, many members of Team 3 and Friends traveled down to Austin for a debauchery weekend of memories and forgets. The greatest comrades we'd be forced to spend time with slathered together in a drunken stupor for hours upon hours.

The Scream, insomuch as he existed as a Team 3 member, exited the Army shortly upon our return. I am told that he falsified his resume to claim some absurd level of reports and missions completed, and that it failed him in his attempt for employment. He now resides somewhere in the greater Fort Hood area.

Jibba Jabba, after a couple of months of angry consumption, walked away from the Army with a limited skill in Korean and less in job work, to pursue a degree in medical fields unknown. Ever the antithesis of social obligations, Jibba Jabba forced a few of the plentiful hours spent enjoying life during the Austin Team 3 antics into overdrive.

68 also exited the Army, driving to California to pursue a degree with the F.B.I. His progress is unknown, yet his comfort level when entering gay clubs was clearly established as "entirely paranoid".

Skitzo regressed back into C company and is believed to be working in Maryland at the moment. He still stalks his now ex-wife on Myspace and Facebook religiously.

College, after returning to Balad to be forced into a depressing life by the Security office, returned to Fort Hood and followed through with the "college option". He now attends a litany of courses at a local school where he described the professors as "retarded".

Mark and Sharon, the married couple who seemed so hopeful and helpful prior to deployment will be divorced by the end of this week. Sharon left Mark for another soldier in A company, and Mark ended up losing rank and security clearance stalking Sharon's cell phone usage with advanced technology. Both play cordial in public, and harbor deep resentment for each other in private. Most of A co has sided with Mark.

Old White Man ended up staying on team 4 and finally got promoted to SGT. He is currently counting down the days until he can exit the Army once and for all. His sarcasm remains.

L-Word, not really even a member of Team 3, moved onto San Antonio shortly after returning to Texas. He furnished me with praising counseling statements and the frustration of someone playing all angles; true to his word though he did try and back my promotion plays. Sadly, he left before it could reach fruition. I feel nothing at all towards him for both his shift in personality, and his general simplicity. I hope he succeeds, in whatever it is he ends up doing.

Chanatee, my roommate for a month in Speicher, became the two faced man I had only heard rumors of. Shortly after returning to Fort Hood he moved to Hawaii, but still had time to drag my name through the mud in front of people he was unaware I knew. Specifically Mr. Metts, whose name I may or may not have altered months ago.

Mr. Metts, the living god from my days in California, became as true to the world as I was aware he would be. His reputation proceeds him everywhere, all I need hear is that someone was in my Brigade and I drop his name to find awe and glee in response. The evening prior to writing this we celebrated his return to Delaware, and the end of a certain era, over drinks a plenty and tears well hidden. He more than any will be missed at dark times in dark places. Mr. Metts was one of the greatest personae I have and ever will encounter. He truly is a living god.

As for the rest: Blue, Thin Mints, Sausage Fingers, Mr. Pringles, Traitor, and myself, we existed on Team 3 until the company decided to reorganize the team structure to better suit the new soldiers and accommodate for exiting soldiers. Every team except Team 3 had a singular member removed and one added. Team 3 was destroyed, with Mr. Pringles the only individual left on. Blue went to team 1, Sausage Fingers to team 2, I went to team 4, and Thin Mints and Traitor went to team 5. The exact words for the move were, "This isn't against anyone. We just came up with a fair way to move everyone in order to make the transitions easier." Between the lines we all read the bull shit. I cannot say I didn't see it coming, but I never expected it and to this day it breaks my heart.

Blue got orders for Japan and attempted to join the 75th Ranger Regiment, only to be thwarted by our 1SG and informed that no interrogators were wanted. He is currently debating giving up orders to Japan in order to reclassify into the Counter Intelligence job field.

Sausage Fingers anticipates a March exit from the Army in order to move back to south Texas with his wife and attend college. He pre-emptively turned in all of his issued gear to get out of training. I couldn't be prouder.

Thin Mints finally got his wish and got orders for Germany. He moves there in March with his wife and 1 year old daughter, Bailey. Passed up on the opportunity to be promoted to SGT, he no longer wants to try in A company due to a bias all members of Team 3 have felt against themselves.

Mr. Pringles is attending college courses on crutches. In an attempt to run inside of his home he broke his toe and now hobbles aimlessly around. He will stay in A company for months on end until he can also get out of the Army.

Traitor remains, to this day, hated by Team 3.

I have now been rejected for promotion without any basis of proof by my 1SG for 4 months in a row. I am counting the days until I can walk, middle fingers in the air and curses on my tongue, proudly away from what once was a beautiful and wonderful dream but which quickly turned into a sad shameful nightmare. Every day appears a further and more painful wade through muck and haze, as if my eyes were suddenly opened onto the blights of the profession I willingly chose. But I grin to the chagrin of my superiors because no matter what punishments I will be dealt, no matter what harsh dealings they can claim dealt, I will go to bigger and better things. I hope my writings and memoirs, as well as those of Thin Mints, have been a lesson in a world I never thought could exist so poorly. My future remains uncertainly hopeful, but my past remains concrete and silly.

A few months ago, through various sources, we found out what Team 3 was called by our battalion. A nickname so accurate that the battalion themselves couldn't even realize the way to treat it. Properly you would remove it, eliminate it. They simply placed it in a position of contagion.

They called us "Cancer."