Ryan Smithson by Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19-Year-Old GI

Author:Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19-Year-Old GI
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Juvenile Nonfiction, Smithson, Biography & Autobiography, Social Issues, Ryan, Military & Wars, United States, 2003, American, Biography, 2003-, Soldiers, Iraq War, Personal Narratives, General, Juvenile Literature, Soldiers - United States, History
ISBN: 9780061664717
Publisher: Collins
Published: 2009-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

“He never got to see her.”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It’s hard,” she says. “It’s really hard.”

There’s a pain in her voice I can’t relate to. She wipes a tear, and I wonder if she feels about me the way I felt about those sparkling clean officers and paperwork junkies in the tent in Kuwait. Maybe she feels like I don’t deserve to go on leave. Maybe she feels like I can’t understand her experiences the way I feel like the civilians on this plane can’t understand mine.

When our plane lands in Albany International, the pilot lets us off first. The whole plane claps for us, and I shake the pilot’s hand.

“Thank you,” I say.

“No, thank you,” he says.

The soldier and I walk down the tunnel together, out of the throat that swallowed us on our way to Iraq.

Airport security allows our families to meet us at the gate. Heather and my parents are standing there.

“See you in two weeks,” says the other soldier as we separate.

She walks toward her husband and daughter.

“You too,” I say. “Enjoy it.”

I walk to Heather first, and kissing her, I realize I forgot how sweet her lips taste. We stand holding each other, and right now, nothing else matters. I am right where I need to be.

“I missed you so much,” she whispers, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” I say.

“Happy anniversary,” she says.

I check my digital watch. She’s right. It’s the nineteenth.

“Wow, I didn’t even realize,” I say, kissing her again. “Happy anniversary.”

“Well, you did just fly through, what, eight time zones?”

“Yeah. That tends to mess you up.”

I let her go and hug my parents.

“Oh, I missed you, Ryan,” says my mom.

“Glad to see you, pal,” says my dad. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” I say.

We walk through the airport, and I tell them about the other soldier on the plane, how she is from my old unit. I don’t tell them about the fallen soldiers she knows.

When we get to the security checkpoint, I see the rest of the family. Some of Heather’s family is there, including her sister’s daughter, my niece, who was born the day I flew to Fort Bragg. This is the first time I’ve seen her, and she is adorable.

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