Saturday, Nov. 03, 2007

A soldier's story: The enemy within

As war is fought around him, Mike battles to control his inner anguish

SACRAMENTO -- The religion on his dog tags reads "JEDI."

Michael Crutchfield doesn't say hello. He blinks and nods instead. He's good at his job, setting up computers for his battery, but most soldiers at Fort Bragg don't really know him.

When Mike does get to talking, it's about evolution, time travel, religion and how dolphins have a more complex language than humans.

"If God came down today, how would you know it was him?" he writes on his MySpace blog.

It's Feb. 18, 2006, and in two months, Mike is leaving Fort Bragg in North Carolina. These are his last days in the United States, his last days before Iraq -- where he will become his own enemy.

Unlike most who use pre-deployment leaves to see family, Mike's not going home to Stockton. He's decided he's going to Los Angeles to see a girl he's met only twice.

Mai Vang gives him hope -- something rare for him.

He blogs: "Once again I'm going away, I don't know why it is bugging me today.

" ... 30 more days and I take out a pen, mark another X on the calendar again.

"The day I leave, I won't be sad.

"No one will be there, not even my dad.

"Grandma, grandpa, uncle and aunt, the past brings memories that linger and haunt.

"I wish there was something more than this.

"And I wish I could feel it. My chest hurts when I think about it."

Crutch

June 2006

Mike's in Balad, Iraq, where he notes it's 115 in the shade and 125 in the sun. When the wind blows, it feels like a heater turned on high.

He has been promoted to specialist and is doing the job of two people, setting up computers, assigning e-mail accounts and getting the communications equipment running.

People call him "Crutch." He likes the nickname, and the thought that he's propping others up. As he says over and over: All he wants to do is help people. The people of Iraq. His family. Other soldiers.

The rockets and mortars that attack the base are as regular as chow time and the mail that's almost never addressed to Mike.

"Mail is something to look forward to. Normally. I don't get anything, but there was one time I did and it felt soooo good," he writes on his blog.

"Every day people come in and ask the supply sergeant if mail has come for them and almost every time the answer is, 'No.' ... Me, I was just happy because I got my credit card in the mail today. Now only if there was something that I wanted to buy.

"Nope, not really."

Mike works and plays pool, pingpong and Texas Hold 'em. He plays chess with support staff from all over the world.

"Even though we don't always understand each other, we still have fun," he blogs.

He isn't quite sure where his home is anymore. He is one in a growing number of soldiers who join a volunteer military during wartime because of limited choices, hoping to escape hard histories.

But for now, he has purpose -- he is certain there will be some grand outcome for his work in Iraq.

"It's nice to feel like we're doing something for the better here. I'm sure the world will not know until many years from now on the Discovery Channel," he blogs. "And I will be there when they show what was done and I can say, 'That was me and our guys.' "

The sandbox

Fall 2006

It's still hot in Iraq. Mike's days revolve around the chess tournaments he helps organize and the flops in Texas Hold 'em.

One of the enemies here on base is monotony. Boredom.

Mike tries calling the two numbers he has for his family but they're disconnected. Where is his mom sleeping these days? Is she in rehab again or finally clean, something she's struggled to be ever since that accident left her swallowing painkiller after painkiller? Is his brother in jail again, stealing cars for a place to sleep?