Feb
9 by Shawn K Categories :
ThatTallDude 0 Comments

Guest Post: My Brother, My Hero

Growing up, I wasn’t a shining example of how to act for my brothers and sister. While not the constant source of trouble that many kids are in high school, I didn’t exactly shy away from it either. Yesterday I wrote a post on the 5th anniversary of returning to ND. Today, I present to you an essay my sister wrote her freshman year of college (dated October 20, 2005). I probably would never have found out about this had her professor not wanted to publish it in something. She doesn’t know I’m posting this, but it’s still special to me, and I think some of you might like it too.

My Brother, My Hero

by: Heidi Kirsch

If someone had asked me the question “What do you think of your older brother?” two years ago, I would have said, “I love him, but I don’t particularly like him.” Two years ago, Shawn, an average college freshman, attended Mayville State University. Twenty-three months ago, his sergeant called him, saying their company was on alert for deployment to Iraq. Twenty months ago, my family and I said goodbye and left Shawn in Fort Carson, Colorado, a few days before he left for “the big sandbox.” Shawn returned from Iraq eight months ago, after a one-year tour of duty with the 141st Engineer Combat Battalion of the North Dakota Army National Guard. Some people who knew him quite well before he left say he is a changed man, and, in some ways, I can see that; however, some things never change.

When he returned from Iraq, I saw some changes in Shawn’s lifestyle and habits, but some days, I couldn’t help but smile when aspects of his old being came shining through his tough, sun-baked exterior. When I said goodbye to him in February 2004, he was a risk taker, a kid of average intelligence who wasn’t overly ambitious, and a guy with little job experience; however, when he returned, he was a man who seemed kinder and gentler, exhibited a new brand of wisdom, and held the experience of an occupation unlike any other–and I like this version of Shawn a lot better than the previous.

In his high school years, Shawn spent a great deal of time arguing with my parents. Due to his job as a truck driver, my dad was usually only home on weekends, so all the negative discussions Shawn and my mom had during the week were revisited when Dad returned. I can recall one particular instance where Shawn’s argumentative, rebellious side was displayed. The night before his graduation, Shawn returned home very late. He had been in Dickinson with his friend, Matt. Shawn would have gone alone, but his license had been taken away when he was caught driving 113 miles per hour in a zone marked 65 [ed. Actually, I got my license back the day before]. Matt’s parents, who just happen to be the school superintendent and his wife, called my parents, worrying about their son. When Shawn and Matt returned home around midnight, my dad threw a fit. I had been sleeping pretty well up until that point, but when Dad started yelling, I woke up. He told Shawn, in a horribly loud voice, he needed to apologize to Matt’s parents before he walked across the stage at graduation in the afternoon. This incident upset me quite a bit, probably because my brother was going to leave home soon, and I hated thinking about the possibility of him never coming back because of the unstable relationship he shared with Mom and Dad. If I had only known what was around the corner, I wouldn’t have gotten so upset over this small matter.

When he returned after spending a year in Iraq, Shawn acted much better than he did before he left; he stopped arguing so much and kept his thoughts to himself. I believe the twelve months away from home made him realize how fortunate he is to have a family, especially one that cares about him. He still argues with Mom and Dad, but their fighting is less frequent. Shawn cares more about my brothers and me as well. He lets us borrow some of his things and maintains composure when a situation turns out opposite of what he had hoped for. I know the possibility of Shawn getting upset still exists, but it takes a bit more prodding to evoke a yelling and screaming match these days.

Shawn’s risk-taking side may have played a role in how he behaved in high school as well. He never applied himself as much as he could. He possessed the capability to get As and Bs in his classes, but he chose not to put forth the effort to get those grades and instead, got Cs and Ds [ed. It was Bs and Cs, but no, I didn't care]. I suppose it never bothered Shawn too much, but it hurt me to see him not do as well as I knew he could. I looked up to him, and his not doing his best made me doubt whether or not I should want to be like him.

When he returned, however, Shawn held a new brand of wisdom, a kind of intelligence shared only by those who had been with him in the Middle East. The news reporters, try as they may, lack the knowledge of what is really happening. We only see what they want us to see, but the soldiers know the inside story. Shawn, when given a start on the subject, speaks of the few close calls he had while on patrol, the high numbers of specific groups of Iraqi people we think are minorities, the fun the soldiers had, and the good that was done despite being in a bad situation. No one other than a solder can ever truly describe what the war in Iraq is like. I consider myself lucky to know a person so close to me who voluntarily shares his experiences and knowledge of the war of this generation.

Given the education he had before leaving, Shawn, like many other teenagers in my hometown, had little choice when it came to jobs [ed. Actually had a tremendous amount of self education, but didn't have access to the technology to use that knowledge until college]. No one needs anyone to work for them, but there are some people willing to offer jobs to people they trust. Reggie, the youth leader at my church, gave Shawn a job on his farm. Shawn spent the summers of 2002 and 2003 working in the fields and around the farmyard. I think he enjoyed the work, but he couldn’t complain when he earned the amount of money he did. Being a farmhand was a good job for Shawn, but he needed experience doing something else; little did he know he was in for the job experience of a lifetime.

In Iraq, Shawn’s platoon held the responsibility of finding improved explosive devices (IEDs) on and along the roads, collecting them, and setting them off in a safer location. While some soldiers searched for IEDs, others watched for the enemy, ready to fire at them in a moment’s notice. During his first month in Iraq, Shawn e-mailed us his account of what had happened on one day’s mission. He had been looking for roadside bombs from the front of his humvee when a missile shot across the hood of the vehicle. Had the vehicle been going any faster, it would have gone through the front driver’s side window, in all likelihood, causing multiple fatalities. This was the sign those of us at home were praying for–the way we would know God was watching over our troops, especially Shawn. My brother also felt the excitement and power of being a gunner while he was in Iraq. On his birthday, he was chosen to be the shooter when they went on patrol [ed. This wasn't unusual, I was usually a gunner on mission]. When we heard this story, we asked Shawn if he killed anyone. He told us that they never went back to check, but he knew that his group avoided being hit because the Iraqis are “lousy shots.” Shawn, in addition to his “fun,” felt the pain of losing a fellow soldier when one man from his platoon died after being wounded [ed. From my company, but from a different platoon]. Being a soldier allowed him to catch a glimpse of real life–the life behind the scenes of the war.

Shawn has changed in many ways, but the most obvious change is that he has become a veteran. He is also, in my mind, a hero. He did not do anything special to make him better than any other soldier, but the fact that he willingly served our country makes him a hero in my eyes.

By recognizing the ways Shawn has changed, I can better understand why he behaves the way he does, and by doing so, help him. If I realize when he is in a “mood,” I know to avoid him and let him figure things out on his own. If he starts talking about something of which I have no knowledge, I know not to question his intelligence. Finally, if he talks about his experience as a soldier, I know to listen, so I learn all I can about what he went through.

If asked now what I think about Shawn, I would say, “I love him, but I’m still working on liking him.” Comedian Mark Lowry sums it up well when he says, “There are some people you love who you just don’t like. You know who they are. You’ll cry at their funeral, but you won’t go on vacation with them.” I feel the same way about Shawn right now, but as time goes on, I am certain I will begin to like him more fore who he is–my brother, my hero.