Where Were You Five Years Ago Today?
Skitz M. Jones:
It was before I joined the military, and I was working as an assistant manager at Blockbuster. We had the DirectTV kiosk set to the news, and I was standing next to the store manager who was a lovely older woman watching as the explosions rocked Baghdad.
The thing that stands out most in my mind is her comment that she was so glad this was such a bloodless war, and no one was getting hurt. Looking back those comments wound up being so very far from the truth. At the time I recall asking her what she thought was in all those buildings that were collapsing to the ground. I explained to her that the cameras weren’t far away so that they could see all the “shock and awe” at once. But they were just far away enough so that any actual human toll to the violent explosions wouldn’t be seen. We could all feel better about blowing up cities from a distance.
I think like many I was confused, and thanks to a few cats I had gone to school with, was already curious what Saddam had to do with bin Laden. I wasn’t thinking “mistake” like I’ve thought since. I remember it being the only thing on those display tvs for weeks, it was all anyone was talking about. It was on the tip of every tongue. It was in the forefront of everyone’s minds…
That’s what I remember about the start of the war.
Sniderman:
I was working the news that day. Our News Director thought it would be wise to “do an Iraq forecast” once an hour. This would surely help the soldiers at Ft Bragg, and comfort those who were staying behind.
Right.
Triple-digits in the South. Afternoon showers in the North. Yep. That’s great stuff. I feel better just broadcasting it.
Turns out a year later… it’s not that important. We’ve sent the vast majority of Ft Bragg’s troops overseas… and they all know that the weather sucks. We quit doing the forecast and no one said ‘boo’.
Ms. Missive:
I was almost half way through my six year contract with the Illinois National Guard. There were some whispers about units being deployed but the National Guard had not been activated into a major war since Vietnam. Most of us felt confident that we weren’t going anywhere. There was a “coalition of nations” fighting this war. It should be over in a month. Right?
On the day the war started, I was still in college. College was essentially the reason I joined the military in the first place. I worked for the Department of Corrections Parole Call Center in the morning and then went to classes in the afternoon. I lived in DeKalb, Illinois.
I watched the war on T.V. just like everyone else during that first afternoon. It was night time in Baghdad and I remember thinking how unusual it was that the sun was shining here and it was the middle of the night there. The green tracers and explosions gave more entertainment than anything else that was on television that day.
My roommates and I speculated on how long the war would last and how it would affect me as a soldier. If I recall, we didn’t think it was going to be too long before America emerged as the victor. After the war started, no one believed that bunk about a “coalition of nations”. We started to realize that it was 90% American forces during the invasion. I mean, look at that show of force on CNN!
That next week I got a phone call from my platoon Sergeant. My unit was mobilized and heading to Ft. Campbell, Kentucky. I was devastated. It felt like a sledge hammer rammed into my stomach. I kept asking him, “Are you sure? Are you positive? It can’t be.” Reality sunk in. The war seemed more like a sterilized game when viewing on the television screen. It didn’t grab a hold of my neck until I got that phone call the next week.
We were sent home after four months because Turkey closed their borders (remember that?). I got lucky. But two years later, I was called again and heading to Iraq without any hesitation this time. That stories for another time though.
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March 20th, 2008 at 10:03 am
I don’t have a story to tell right now. I don’t even remember where I was. But I’m reading yours, and I just want to yell out “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, BABY!!” And then run to the store because I forgot to get a gift.
March 20th, 2008 at 2:04 pm
@Colin:
Traditional Anniversary Gifts by Year
Fifth year: Wood
Get on it.
March 20th, 2008 at 8:51 pm
Ha! I was pregnant and those m’fers tried mobilizing me 7 months pregnant!!! Thank God my doctor thought it was b.s.!
March 20th, 2008 at 10:41 pm
@Olivia
I TOTALLY remember that they tried to get you mobilized while pregnant! I remember thinking how insane that was. Damn. That was in the good ol’ days of Major what’s-his-face. Thank GOD we didn’t go overseas with that jack ass in command.
March 22nd, 2008 at 1:00 pm
That was some serious fucktardedness…
March 25th, 2008 at 9:10 am
The day after the bombing started (in the middle of the night, as we knew would happen), the word was already out that protesters were to meet at the Federal Plaza in downtown Chicago. Not quite a month earlier, I had marched with my small children through the streets of NYC, using them to gain access past the police barricades: “I’m just a mother trying to get to my hotel on 1st avenue, I swear!”
I didn’t bring my kids to the Chicago protest though, because I was uncertain of the mood of the crowd, and particularly, the mood of the Chicago cops. We closed down LSD that night, (just as we had a decade earlier, during the first Gulf War), and the stopped cars honked their support, cheering out of their windows with us. It seemed so obvious to me what was happening and I just couldn’t figure out why everyone didn’t see that Bush’s war was completely trumped up. It still blows my mind that anyone thought for one second that Iraq had anything to do with 9/11. Five years later, as the war churns on, I’ve lost my resolve for street protests. I’m looking now to the elections to end this bloody farce.
March 25th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
@valleycat
It’s interesting you mention the protests. I’m remembering them all too and how much it really felt like we were all making a difference at the time. After a while, the effort started to seem a little moot.