I was always told that this wasn't my role. I was too smart. We worked so hard so that you could become a dentist. Well, I thought, you worked so har… - David Bellavia

Close behind Cantrell comes Staff Sergeant Jim, driving that glorious Abrams. First Platoon has no doubt benefited from their service. That battle's under control. Now they've come to bail us out.

The area around us suddenly erupts with grenades and machine-gun fire. Those shells landed near some Marines, who have finally reached our area. It is about time they get on-line with us. Then again, it is a mixed blessing to have them around. They don't take kindly to the 25mm incoming. Their response sends us diving for cover behind our tracks as .50-caliber machine-gun fire stitches across our street. Rodriguez gets on the radio. The Marines are not apologetic. We are told that they will return any and all incoming fire, friendly or otherwise.

In the summer of 2005, I left the Army and returned to civilian life. It was the toughest decision I ever had to make. I loved being an NCO, and I missed it every day. After I returned home, I witnessed another battle raging on the television over Iraq. As other veterans of the Global War on Terror started to trickle home, we shared the feelings of the disenfranchised. We who sacrificed were being ignored by the World War II and Vietnam generations now holding seats of power in our government. I joined Wade Zirkle in forming Vets for Freedom, a nonpartisan political action committee dedicated to supporting our troops in both Iraq and Afghanistan. I want to believe the war is a noble effort, but I fear it may end ignobly.