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Cpl. Sanchez, 2nd LAR, (c) www.artharris.com

By Art Harris, The Bald Truth, (c) www.artharris.com, all rights reserved

I arrived in a sandstorm, and left in a sandstorm, the raging desert winds etching stings and memories of war few can erase–friendship and gratitude I carry with me today on Veterans Day, and every day for the young Marines who looked out for me as an embedded journalist, and each other, rough, tough, ready to fight– and ever polite.

“Sir, could you please bend down so I could shoot out your window?” asked my driver, Cpl. Sanchez, as our 7-ton ammo truck came under fire one night in Nasirya. I scribbled notes, now illegible, as the men let me into their lives, some cut short, to write about their hopes, dreams and missions I’ll be sharing about these and other American heroes from time to time on The Bald Truth.

Not a day goes by I don’t think about the young guns of the 2nd Marines light armored reconn unit (LAR) out of Camp LeJeune, North Carolina, and how we raced across the Iraq border in March, 2003, my only weapons, laptop and cameras. As I salute them today, and all the men and women in uniform, I also wince about how we got off on the wrong foot–my fault–and my first brush with fear.

Then Marine Cpl Rey Narvais, (c) artharris.com

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