The Itch

Nobody wants to go back. No one wants to return to the dentist for another root canal. We would do anything to avoid reliving such a situation. But what I am talking about doesn't quite jive with that last statement. I guess a better comparison would be addiction. If you are a recovering heroin addict you don't want to go back, but oh how glorious would it be if you were to do so. Hence the title of this post, The Itch. I think all addicts get 'the itch' to return to their former activities regardless of what it was: drinking, crack, meth, heroin, pussy, etc. There will always be a soft place in your heart for the activities that you now denounce but somewhere deep down in your psyche or soul miss on some sort of level. If you are a recovering addict and you wholeheartedly disagree.... well all I can tell you is fuck you and accept the truth. There is a reason why an alcoholic is always in recovery; its because he knows that at any given moment given the right situation he could go right back to his demonized ways without an apology or a courtesy reach around.

But I digress, the point of this blog is not to point out the pitfalls of addiction, although there are many  similarities. When I say 'the itch' I am referring to something different all together. I am talking about strapping it on and going back into combat. Sure I hated every moment of it while I was there but there is still a part of me that misses it... the sight of oil wells burning, the smell of a discharged weapon, the sound of artillery fire, and last but not least the fear of a biological attack; the despair that comes with knowing that the only way out is victory or a body bag. The knowledge that the life of the Marine to your left and right are in your hands and yours in theirs. It reminds of a quote from the movie A Few Good Men when in the last scene Jack Nicholson asks the prosecuting lawyers, I'm paraphrasing here, "Have you ever put your life in another mans hands and asked him to do the same"? Well I can tell you that I have. There is nothing in the civilian world that is comparable to that feeling. This is the reason why I get 'the itch'... to put rounds down range again, to relive a part of my life that a majority of the time I would rather forget. It was those times that I was closest to death that I was truly living however fucked up that sounds. So no matter how many nightmares I have about returning, I still get that 'itch' to pickup a rifle with my brothers in arms and put the enemy down once again because I know we cannot lose.

Peaces and Creases

TBN