Terror to Triumph
Chris Whittemore
Copyright 2021 Chris Whittemore
All rights reserved
First Edition
PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.
Conneaut Lake, PA
First originally published by Page Publishing 2021
ISBN 978-1-6624-1358-2 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-6624-1359-9 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
To the countless wounded and fallen service members that fought through the unforgiving streets of Ramadi, Iraq in 2005, the streets that Second Battalion, Seventh Marines suffered through in Iraq in 2007, and finally the unforgiving landscape of Helmand Province, Afghanistan, in 2010. Finally, to my wife who stood by me through all the hellish deployments, the struggles that came with returning home, and the fight to find the balance needed to survive.
It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, and more desolation. War is Hell.
William Tecumseh Sherman
Only the dead have seen the end of War.
Plato
The devil whispered in my ear, youre not strong enough to withstand the storm. Today I whispered in the devils ear, I am the storm.
Unknown
There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.
John Holmes
The soldier above all others, prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war
General Douglas Mac Arthur
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather, we should thank God that such men lived.
George S. Patton Jr.
The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.
G. K. Chesterton
Chapter 1
Introduction
The towns I grew up in were the types where everyone knew everyone and everyones business was the talk of the town. Washington State was littered with endless acres of trees, and the Pacific Ocean was only a short walk away. We grew up on ten acres of tree-saturated land with countless places to explore as I grew up.
At the age of sixteen, I moved down to live with my grandparents in Paradise, California. Paradise was littered with trees, mountains, rivers, and endless amounts of snow in the winter. There was always something to do growing up. In the early years, I spent every minute I could outside. Being a young child, things were so simple, or at least that was the perception I had. When you are young, you are, in a sense, sheltered from reality of what the world really had to offer and the dangers that awaited. This was especially true when it came to the military.
In my family, religion was always something that was valued, and going to church every Sunday and church groups was something that was just a normal thing. As I look back to my childhood and all the good times I had, and then I stare into the mirror and think back at all the things that I have been through, done, and experienced, I do not recognize myself at all. I imagine that there would be no way to stay the same.
The majority of the men in my family all served in the military. From my grandfather, who was stationed in Hawaii during the bombings in 1941, to my father, Tim, and my uncle Dan who served aboard naval ships in Vietnam, and my uncle Pat who served as a paratrooper in the Army in Vietnam. Even with all this history in my family, no one talked about their experiences. This was disappointing to me growing up, but after gaining my own experiences, I fully understand why they never wanted to discuss what they had been through during the wars. I was, in a way, naive to the life that lay ahead in joining the Marine Corps.
Everyone has seen the movies, read the books, or created a vision in their minds as to what life in the military was really going to be like. I was the same. I remember days before going to boot camp, I spent the evening watching Full Metal Jacket . What a disappointment that this was going to be. My experience was going to be nothing like this movie. There is definitely a lot of Hollywood in that movie for sure. Nonetheless, growing up in a military family practically paved the way for me to join the ranks of the military and follow in their footsteps.
I knew deep down that I did not want to float on a ship or join the Army, and for as long as I could remember, I wanted to be a Marine. I am sure all my relatives would have preferred that I followed their example by joining the Navy or the Army, but I am sure they were or are proud of the decisions I have made. My friend Josh and I signed up for the Marine Corps; and in September of 1995, it was on the plane and off to sunny San Diego, California, where we would spent the next three months aboard Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD).