The Things They Carried

A few weeks back, in the veteran’s expression writing group I was a part of, we were given a prompt based on Tim O’Brien’s novel The Things They Carried. We could write about whatever we wanted using the prompt “The Things They Carried.” Some people made itemized lists like O’Brien did throughout the book; others took it in wildly different directions. I decided to try to write some of my story in the vein of O’Brien. I was intrigued by his constant usage of repetition as a device to carry the story. So, instead of a Vietnam infantry platoon, my story is about convoy operations during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Side note: as with O’Brien, this may be true to the story and not true to the facts. Take that for what it is and enjoy.

Sergeant Charles carried punk rock CDs, checkered Vans slip-ons, and beef jerky. Staff Sergeant Hawks carried a case of red bulls when he could find them, rip-its when he could not, and a brooding anger that made him feel bulletproof. Staff Sergeant Fields carried homesickness for the Marine Corps he took out on the rest of us, a 1st Marine Division Combat patch, a Kabar knife, and gravel in his voice. Specialist Wycoff—who we all called Wack off—carried condoms, medicine for VD picked up in Kuwait, a tactical tomahawk, a cowboy hat, and a pair of leather chaps. I carried a video camera, a homemade snake hook, field guides, books, and a bandana in my left cargo pocket that had a message along its edge from my mother that said she loved me and to take care of my brother, who I also carried with me in Iraq.

We all carried the standard combat load of magazines filled with 5.56 caliber ammunition, an Interceptor multi-threat body armor system—called an IBA. We carried MOPP gear, complete with an M-50 gas mask on our right hip, chem lights, flashlights, extra uniforms, baby wipes, cases of water, a sleeping bag, letters from home, and our personal weapons. Most carried M-16 A2s, some had red dot systems, and most did not. Some of us, like me, carried 200-round drums for the SAW, extra barrels for the fifty-caliber machine gun, ammo cans full of grenades and extra ammunition, and disposable thirty-five-millimeter cameras. We all carried a fear of driving over hidden bombs, getting our heads cut off by haji, and being burned alive in a vehicle. Most of all, we carried the guilt of not doing more than we were since none of us chose this particular mission.

We drove long-haul missions to every major and minor Forward Operating Base (FOB) and combat Outpost, from Safwan to Mosul and everything in between. We loaded up in Kuwait and rumbled across Babylon like nomads with possessions not worth dying for. Some of us manned guns on Humvees until the Army deemed our vehicles unsafe and took them from us. Most of us drove up-armored M915 tractor-trailers. Some of us did both. We carried equipment for Marines to Fallujah, Connex boxes full of laptops to Taji, blown up Humvees from Al Asad, Shredded tires from BIAP, and sometimes empty shipping containers for no good reason at all. We carried things no one needed to places no one cared to go.

Wycoff, who we called “Wack-Off,” left his M249 Squad automatic weapon on the back of an empty flatbed trailer while we took a smoke break. Then, he forgot about it when we rolled on. We were miles down the road before his panicked voice broke the silence on the SINGARS radio to inform the convoy commander of his mistake. The weapon was never found. Convoys that subsequently rolled through that area of operation reported an uptick in small arms fire for a few missions. Wycoff, who lost his weapon on MSR Tampa, got an Article 15 and was restricted to Camp Arifjan Kuwait until his punishment was over. He made good use of those condoms and VD meds, so I heard.

If you haven’t read The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien, I highly recommend it. It is considered by many to be a modern classic. He gets to the heart of what it is to be a soldier in a platoon and the conflicts we may have regarding our memories of events during combat years later. I have been living in this book for quite a while, having both written about it, studied it in depth for my PB Abbate trip to Montana, and some craft classes I took regarding O’Brien’s writing. I’ve read it twice and listened to it once—I don’t typically do audiobooks, but this one was narrated by Bryan Cranston, and I had time to kill on a long flight.

This was a fun exercise and got me thinking more about writing truth in the form of fiction. These events happened, but maybe not the exact way I wrote them. I don’t remember if Wycoff got an Article 15 or VD meds, but the dude was wild and a great soldier all the same—despite that little weapon, Oopsie Daisy. Although I went to all those places, I can’t remember which things came from which bases. This isn’t fiction, but it isn’t exactly fact. All the same, it’s a true story.

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Stan is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker from Bethania, North Carolina. His work has been published in The Havok Journal, Reptiles Magazine, Understory, Dirtbag Magazine, Lethal Minds Journal, Backcountry Journal, Wildlife in North Carolina, SOFLETE, The Tarheel Guardsman, Wildsound Writing Festival, and others. His poetry collection A Toad in a Glass Jar is scheduled for publication by Dead Reckoning Collective, date TBD. He has written three children’s books and one Christian Devotional book. He filmed and directed a documentary about his deployment in Iraq with the NC Army National Guard called “Hammer Down.” He spends most of his free time wrangling toads. You can see his collected works and social media accounts listed at www.stanlakecreates.com

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.