It could just have easily been me

I carried a copy of this poem with me during my year in Iraq. It was written by Alan Seeger, a young soldier who was killed during the Battle of the Somme in World War I. I think often about his concepts of destiny and duty.

"I Have a Rendezvous with Death"

I have a rendezvous with Death

At some disputed barricade,

When Spring comes back with rustling shade

And apple-blossoms fill the air-

I have a rendezvous with Death

When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand

And lead me into his dark land

And close my eyes and quench my breath-

It may be I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death

On some scarred slope of battered hill,

When Spring comes round again this year

And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep

Pillowed in silk and scented down,

Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,

Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,

Where hushed awakenings are dear...

But I've a rendezvous with Death

At midnight in some flaming town,

When Spring trips north again this year,

And I to my pledged word am true,

I shall not fail that rendezvous."

One winter day in Sadr City, I stood over a wounded Iraqi man that was about my age. An American medic was frantically trying to save his life, but thirty seconds earlier, we had been forced to put a bullet in the Iraqi in self-defense.

It occurred to me that his entire life had led up to this one moment.

From a young boy running with school books, to the first time he held a woman's hand, to his marriage to a loving wife, to the birth of his children. Everything pushed him to this: bleeding out on a filthy street in the slums of Baghdad. Did he suspect anything when he woke that morning and left his house, perhaps giving his wife a lingering hug? Did he think he was doing the right thing when he attacked us?

It could just have easily been me or another soldier in a bloody pool on the curb, and the line dividing the paths to life and death is razor-thin. What steers us to the left or right, to the dirt or back to the base for chow? Is it destiny? Skill or luck? Guardian angels or divine intervention? I wish I had answers, but I guess I'll have to be content with counting my blessings that my fellow soldiers and I made it home that day alive.


Jason Thelen served as a Captain in the US Army Reserve during Operation Iraqi Freedom. This is the third in a series of columns he will be writing for Veterans for Common Sense. He can be reached at jthelen294@yahoo.com
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