Barrett Dorko
06-05-2008, 01:55 PM
It’s been a quiet week in Cuyahoga Falls…
Often during 2006 I would lie awake at night knowing that it was likely he was leading a convoy down on a dusty road near Baquba, hunting for bombs. In my mind Alex was surrounded by hidden explosives, so I’d stay awake. He handled it by staying awake as well. Cautious, watchful and vigilant, he led hundreds of missions and no one got hurt.
Often in the turret above Alex was a gunner named Dix, a career enlisted man. The last time I saw my son he spoke of him; when he could, Dix would stand by his bunk, put on some earphones and dance; his eyes closed, moving his arms and shoulders in a way that conveyed his devotion to the music and his own solitude. He seldom spoke, and when he did, some wondered where he’d been recently.
Years ago I wrote of the concept of service as I’d come to understand it after decades of practice. I found myself nodding along when I read this by Rachel Remen (http://www.rachelremen.com/), "I am as served as the person I am serving. When I help I have a feeling of satisfaction, (but) when I serve I have a feeling of gratitude." I realized that while I was no one’s servant, somehow I had been called to service. This distinction explained a great deal about the dedicated and solitary nature of my career. When I’m around, others are improved and protected in some way, and when I offer this service, I am as well.
Alex is back in Iraq, and Dix was on his way there. But while still in Kuwait, separated from his old unit and, perhaps, no longer sensing the presence of those who had served him for so long, he died of wounds unrelated to combat. Alex was asked to say something at the ceremony and I wanted to put it here. I think you’ll see why.
Every day I saw him he would tell me that it was a good day to be in the Army. For him, I know that it always was... because SPC Dix lived every day as a Soldier. He spent the majority of his adult life in uniform, following orders. The Army is full of Soldiers who likely identify themselves by different roles before defining themselves as a Soldier: father, mother, husband; but I knew Dix as a man simply committed to a life in the military, receiving and carrying out orders. Dix struggled in the military, but that didn't mean that he did not belong. I never knew him to fail at a task for lack of trying and I never heard him utter a single complaint about his role in this Army. Dix was my gunner for a hundred combat missions in Iraq. I could depend on him to do the right thing without ever telling him twice. He would spend most of his time on the road sitting quietly in the turret, until he got the urge to speak. And when Dix spoke, his fellow Soldiers listened, mostly because you never knew what Dix might say. He loved to travel, and missed his days in the Marine Corps because of this. He talked about living in California, Korea and Virginia, but he always seemed to enjoy living where the Army told him to, because Dix felt content to want what he had. He loved music, and when he knew it was okay to retreat to his bunk and listen to his headphones, Dix readily did so. I'll remember him standing near his bunk, completely absorbed in the music that took him away from the rest of us and allowed him to escape, presumably to forget about everything and everyone else, and to just be his authentic self.
I remember when Dix went to the E5 board while we were living in FOB Warhorse. He passed, but not because his strengths were in his military knowledge. Simply, Dix possessed the pride that comes with being a Soldier, and I believe that he did not have much in his life of which to be more proud. In that board, Dix finished by spontaneously belting out the Army song and then marching out of the room. No one in the room was expecting him to do it and they were all completely surprised. Dix was always surprising us. And that day, he knew that he had accomplished something important and he felt a pride that could not be expressed in his usual modest, soft-spoken manner. So Dix just sang the Army song. And we loved him for it.
As our battalion assumes our mission, now without SPC Dix, I find myself being disappointed with small material inconveniences that no true Soldier should ever whine about. And I need to remind myself that Soldiers can't be the type of people who feel sorry for themselves. I know that Dix wouldn't have complained for a minute in our situation. As long as he had a place to stay, his music, and a job to do, Dix was okay. Today may be the last day that anyone ever recognizes Dix's service to his country and to his brothers in arms. He was a kind, gentle human being who readily sacrificed for this Army and its mission. I want to remind those of us who worked with him, that to know Dix was to know a Soldier in its purest sense. As leaders and as comrades, it is our job to take care of Soldiers like Dix. I know that it is easy to continually ask for more from them and often hard to recognize the fact that they ask nothing in return. Perhaps I should pause more often and feel (like I saw in Dix) the pride and satisfaction that comes with simply being a Soldier.
Often during 2006 I would lie awake at night knowing that it was likely he was leading a convoy down on a dusty road near Baquba, hunting for bombs. In my mind Alex was surrounded by hidden explosives, so I’d stay awake. He handled it by staying awake as well. Cautious, watchful and vigilant, he led hundreds of missions and no one got hurt.
Often in the turret above Alex was a gunner named Dix, a career enlisted man. The last time I saw my son he spoke of him; when he could, Dix would stand by his bunk, put on some earphones and dance; his eyes closed, moving his arms and shoulders in a way that conveyed his devotion to the music and his own solitude. He seldom spoke, and when he did, some wondered where he’d been recently.
Years ago I wrote of the concept of service as I’d come to understand it after decades of practice. I found myself nodding along when I read this by Rachel Remen (http://www.rachelremen.com/), "I am as served as the person I am serving. When I help I have a feeling of satisfaction, (but) when I serve I have a feeling of gratitude." I realized that while I was no one’s servant, somehow I had been called to service. This distinction explained a great deal about the dedicated and solitary nature of my career. When I’m around, others are improved and protected in some way, and when I offer this service, I am as well.
Alex is back in Iraq, and Dix was on his way there. But while still in Kuwait, separated from his old unit and, perhaps, no longer sensing the presence of those who had served him for so long, he died of wounds unrelated to combat. Alex was asked to say something at the ceremony and I wanted to put it here. I think you’ll see why.
Every day I saw him he would tell me that it was a good day to be in the Army. For him, I know that it always was... because SPC Dix lived every day as a Soldier. He spent the majority of his adult life in uniform, following orders. The Army is full of Soldiers who likely identify themselves by different roles before defining themselves as a Soldier: father, mother, husband; but I knew Dix as a man simply committed to a life in the military, receiving and carrying out orders. Dix struggled in the military, but that didn't mean that he did not belong. I never knew him to fail at a task for lack of trying and I never heard him utter a single complaint about his role in this Army. Dix was my gunner for a hundred combat missions in Iraq. I could depend on him to do the right thing without ever telling him twice. He would spend most of his time on the road sitting quietly in the turret, until he got the urge to speak. And when Dix spoke, his fellow Soldiers listened, mostly because you never knew what Dix might say. He loved to travel, and missed his days in the Marine Corps because of this. He talked about living in California, Korea and Virginia, but he always seemed to enjoy living where the Army told him to, because Dix felt content to want what he had. He loved music, and when he knew it was okay to retreat to his bunk and listen to his headphones, Dix readily did so. I'll remember him standing near his bunk, completely absorbed in the music that took him away from the rest of us and allowed him to escape, presumably to forget about everything and everyone else, and to just be his authentic self.
I remember when Dix went to the E5 board while we were living in FOB Warhorse. He passed, but not because his strengths were in his military knowledge. Simply, Dix possessed the pride that comes with being a Soldier, and I believe that he did not have much in his life of which to be more proud. In that board, Dix finished by spontaneously belting out the Army song and then marching out of the room. No one in the room was expecting him to do it and they were all completely surprised. Dix was always surprising us. And that day, he knew that he had accomplished something important and he felt a pride that could not be expressed in his usual modest, soft-spoken manner. So Dix just sang the Army song. And we loved him for it.
As our battalion assumes our mission, now without SPC Dix, I find myself being disappointed with small material inconveniences that no true Soldier should ever whine about. And I need to remind myself that Soldiers can't be the type of people who feel sorry for themselves. I know that Dix wouldn't have complained for a minute in our situation. As long as he had a place to stay, his music, and a job to do, Dix was okay. Today may be the last day that anyone ever recognizes Dix's service to his country and to his brothers in arms. He was a kind, gentle human being who readily sacrificed for this Army and its mission. I want to remind those of us who worked with him, that to know Dix was to know a Soldier in its purest sense. As leaders and as comrades, it is our job to take care of Soldiers like Dix. I know that it is easy to continually ask for more from them and often hard to recognize the fact that they ask nothing in return. Perhaps I should pause more often and feel (like I saw in Dix) the pride and satisfaction that comes with simply being a Soldier.