Originally published in Motorcycles On The Road Again, October 2005.
A year in Iraq is enough to make any person homesick. Besides the great emptiness I feel without my family nearby, there is the loss of something else I love, my Harley.
I often reminisce about the long and short rides I would take on the 1994 Road King, also known as “blue.” I think about the freedom that was spoken to me through the open road rides. How I could be stressed to the max or feeling low and all it would take was about an hour ride to nowhere. Of course not long after these thoughts I am faced with reality. I am dressed in “battle rattle” in 140 degree weather about 14,000 miles from home where certain insurgent groups want nothing more than to kill me.
What could draw a man to leave such things he cherishes most such as a loving family, great home, and a beautiful bike? I have asked myself this question many times in the past year and have come to one certain basis for my conclusion…Freedom.
Some people may ask, “you were free before, why do you think you have to pursue it now?” Don’t get me wrong, I was and remain free. My passion for freedom ventures long away from myself. I want what many other hardworking families want…A future for my children without fear of terrorists taking away what so many of our fellow Americans have died for.
Before I came to Iraq I watched the news channels covering the war and listened to the “experts” opinions about why we shouldn’t be in Iraq. How many of those individuals have suffered under a ruler like Saddam Hussein? How many of those people have had their family mutilated and tortured because of their beliefs? It is hard for me to have respect for people who wear suits that cost more than my bike and want to give their expert opinion on the war.
You will find more answers out of the men and women who wear the desert skins. They are the ones risking their lives to ensure the forward progress of freedom abroad.
You see I enjoy my freedom in the United States. I enjoy the right to be able to leather up, hop on my bike and go for a day ride through the Texas Hill Country. Because of this I thought of how it would be if at every highway interchange or major intersection we had police check-points. At these check-points I could be yanked off of my bike, beaten, stripped of my currency and valuables and then beaten again. If I were lucky I would only have to spend a few weeks in the hospital.
There are many sayings we use to remind us of why we do certain things. Sayings we pass along to our children. The sayings come from somewhere inside, something we believe in or something that was passed on to us. One that sticks in my mind is “Freedom is not Free.” I believe to gain a full understanding on a situation I have a duty to get involved. For me to fully understand the importance of our freedom I had to first understand what it’s like not to be free.
I had no idea what was in store for me. I had no clue that I would not only be completing day to day duties in the most hazardous environment, and because of the danger we would be living in compounds surrounded by concrete walls and concertina razor wire. I had no idea the taste of reality I was about to see, a vision all too familiar now.
I had my mind set before I came to Operation Iraqi Freedom that I was not going to solely make a difference, but maybe I could be a part of a team that would. I wanted the chance to tell future generations about people in the suppressed Iraq and what it was like to not have your everyday pleasures and leisure activities. I also wanted the chance to teach them the importance of sacrifice. The United States has paid the ultimate sacrifice for freedom throughout its entire history. This was my chance to experience that first hand by leaving my loving family, beautiful Texas, and of course Blue.
I applaud all the military personnel and their families. I weep for the men and women who lost their lives in the pursuit of freedom, many of whom I came to know as brothers and sisters.
Their memories and sacrifices for freedom will forever be etched in my book of life. Not a day will go by that I don’t take that all-too-familiar Harley ride and not think of them. Their pursuit of freedom will always be etched in the black-top of our journeys.
Some of us get tattoos or patches on our leathers to remember our fallen. The most powerful thing in the world is the human brain. The human brain, whether slow or highly intelligent has the ability to create and destroy. Many of us take the bike rides to clear our heads, think a little more about a particular something, or just to be free. I would like to ask my fellow Texans, fellow bikers and fellow readers the next time they are at a rally, poker run, fundraiser or just out for a friendly run to remember the importance of our Freedom and those who gave their “all” for it.
From the Front Lines of Iraq, Bulldog