Hammer

Freedom Fighter

This event was the worst event of my life; it was the day my dad left for Fort Dix, New Jersey. Early that morning I woke up with tears steaming down my face, thinking about the job my dad would be leaving to do. He would be leaving to train for the duties he would have in Iraq.

When I got out of bed and into the kitchen, there was my dad in his uniform. He told my brother and I to get ready to leave. My Grandma, brother, and I were going to go to the Armory. My dad drove us there. My Aunt Jolene meet us there in the parking lot. Holding my dad's hand walking down the parking lot it seemed like the longest walk ever. When we got into the Armory there were people standing around, most soldiers, some family members. When we walked into the middle of the room a woman came and greeted us and told us that family members were able to stay and visit. My dad was really glad that we were able to stay. As we stayed and talked, time passed. About 5 hours later 6 buses showed up to pick up the troops. A sergeant stood up on a table yelling, "All 1073rd members, please make your way over to the buses!" As my dad grabbed his bag, my brother and I had already known this moment would have been coming.

As we stood outside the bus door, holding our dad, we hoped the army would change their minds and not send him away. My brother and I both stared to cry, holding our dad, knowing he was trying to be strong and not cry. As I looked around I noticed that I was not the only one who was losing their Mom or Dad to the war, not knowing what would happen to my dad. I could feel the heat from the engine as my dad told me it was time for him to go. I watched him grab his bag throw it in the bottom of the bus and then slowly walk up the bus stairs. We saw him take his seat. His seat was on the other side of the bus, so we walked around the bus. With my stomach still in a knot, we waved to him, telling him goodbye. Saying goodbye to my dad was the hardest thing I ever had to do.