Fireworks reminds me of Baghdad on a good day

I love Independence day. Celebrating our countries birthday is probably the best reason to get a day off from the daily office grind. But I have yet to get comfortable with the constant explosions from all around the neighborhood that people call fireworks.

When I first got home in June of 2004 from my tour in Iraq, I was excited just to be on friendly soil again. But the 4th of July was right around the corner and all my friends were like “Lets go see the fireworks, you’re a veteran and this is like a holiday just for you.” Reluctantly I agreed to go just to get back into a normal life again. We went to the marina in Martinez Ca. and watched an amazing show of lights in the sky. The loud explosions from above and the smaller ones from people with firecrackers filled the next few hours.

I was brought back to a time in Camp Anoconda sitting in my dusty tent on an old cot listening to the incoming mortar rounds hitting around me. Feeling powerless not knowing where the next one would hit. Maybe near me, maybe on me. Then the earthshaking onslaught of artillery from the good guys firing off in response. The sky lit up with flares around the perimeter to look for approaching insurgents with guards in watchtowers ready to fire with their machine guns. This was something that would happen on a regular basis at our base. Nothing ever hit our tents, but they hit all around us and some people were not as luck as me to ‘only’ hit near them.

Since that first forth of July that I came home, I avoided these events. Until today, I guess it was subconscious. The house I have is next to a high school that has annual fireworks displays. My wife really wanted to watch them this year, and other than the uneasy feeling in my stomach, I had no arguments. Neighborhood people lighting off everything from small fire crackers all the way to semi-pro types that rattled the windows when they went off, didn’t seem to be enough for her. I guess the experience of watching neighborhood sparklers doesn’t match up to the shock and awe of the professional shows put on.

All in all, it isn’t so bad. Anxiety sucks, but what are you going to do? I lived through the real stuff, I can make it through a few days of this.