"As soon as I saw they were soldiers, I knew..."

Cuban_Liberal

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Sat Aug-28-04 08:20 AM
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"As soon as I saw they were soldiers, I knew..."

Edited on Sat Aug-28-04 08:25 AM by Cuban_Liberal

Spc. Charles L. Neeley, Jr.
1985-2004

"As soon as I saw they were soldiers, I knew...". Those were the first words my oldest sister said to me last night, spoken as soon as I closed the screen door leading from the carport into her small, neat kitchen. "I'm so sorry" were the only words my numbed and racing brain could find as I held her tightly, her entire body trembling in my arms like that of a small, frightened bird, her heart beating wildly, her breath ragged and broken with sobs. It was then that I knew the awful truth--- a truth I had tried to deny even as Paddy and I rushed to her house--- my nephew Chuckie was dead, another casualty in George Bush's megalomaniacal drive for power.

Chuckie--- Spc. Charles L. Neely, Jr.--- died early Thursday morning in Tikrit, if what the Army has told my sister and brother-in-law is true, the victim of a roll-over accident involving his semi-truck and a pontoon bridge. His death is but another meaningless, senseless death in a meaningless, senseless war that did not have to be, but was chosen to be.

Chuckie was my sister's 'golden child', bright as a new penny, personable, good-looking, affectionate and ambitious, one of life's incurable optimists. He was my parents' first grandchild, a living affirmation of their strong, shared belief in the goodness of America, a nation where the children and grandchildren of immigrants can dream enormous dreams, and then see them come true. Chuckie dreamed those dreams, and shared them with anyone who would listen.

Like so many of my people, Chuckie saw his entryway into the middle class through the armed forces of this nation; educational benefits dovetailed neatly with his fierce patriotism and desire to 'give something back' to America, something else that is characteristic of my people. So strong was this desire that he did not even wait to graduate high school to enter the Army Reserves, obtaining his parents' permission to join just days after his 17th birthday in the summer of 2002, between his junior and senior year in high school. I never saw him stand straighter or display more pride than he did when his unit--- the Army's 454th Transportation Company--- was ordered to Iraq late last summer. He told me then that his dream of becoming a school teacher would have to wait a little longer, because his country called, and he had sworn an oath to answer that call if it came.

I still cannot fully comprehend what has happened, or make my heart believe that I will never again see the proud young soldier who was more like a brother to me than a nephew. Though my heart is broken, no tears have yet come, blocked by a hard knot of white-hot anger that borders on rage. I am angrier than I have ever been in my life, and every fiber of my being demands to know who has done this terrible thing to my family. For the first time in my life, I have seen my strong, macho father cry, and seen my mother's beautiful, unlined face become haggard overnight. I have held my younger brothers while they cried, and watched my brother-in-law do small, meaningless and repetitive acts like wiping off the kitchen counter, because he cannot be still and allow himself to be alone with his thoughts, considering the enormity and emptiness of a future which does not include his first-born child.

As I write this, my shirt is still wet with other people's tears, but there are none of my own mingled with them, although I'm sure that those will come in time. I know who is responsible for my family's pain, and I know who killed my nephew just as surely as if he had put a gun to his temple and executed him; I will never forget this awful crime, or the tens of thousands of identical crimes that George Bush and his evil cabal have perpetrated on other families, both here and across the face of the globe. I will demand that these criminals be brought to justice, and their crimes punished, but I will not do it today, or even this week, because today I must be strong for my family, and help to bury the young soldier who was my nephew.

May God have mercy on your soul, Chuckie, and may He grant you eternal rest, peace, joy and light. I will bless His name for the gift He made to our family, the gift of your 19 years of life on earth. Vaya con Dios, Carlito...

--- Uncle Tony

:grr::cry: