Time Off from Fear and Turmoil in Iraq

By THERESA HEIM-KILKOWSKI Palisadian-Post Contributor The heat surpassed 100 degrees and their packs weighed 100 pounds. The soldiers trudged through an abandoned Al Qaeda stronghold, clearing out improvised explosive devices (IEDs) used by enemy insurgents. Dust stung their eyes and sweat soaked through their camouflage uniforms, not just from heat, but from fear. In a 300-meter radius, 28 explosive devices were found and detonated. But nerves were still tense and anxiety still plagued the soldiers, for there were more. There were always more. The soldiers walked through the sewage-ridden streets of Mugdadiya and into a house looking for insurgents. The windows were blown out and there was no furniture, only blankets to sit and sleep on. The soldiers, who were accustomed to hostility from the Iraqis, received a different greeting this time. Standing before them was a seven-year-old girl. Her wide eyes lit up and she smiled as the soldiers came into her home. She talked excitedly in her native tongue while looking at the refrigerator, atop which sat a Barbie doll, an icon of Americana. She told the soldiers all about her doll, her most valuable possession, capturing the hearts of the entire platoon, but there was one soldier who was especially taken with her. He handed her some American bills and told her to buy herself a new doll either in Baghdad or on the black market. This soldier still thinks of this little girl many months later and many miles away. A week ago, Captain Trevor Shelden of the 2-23 Infantry Regiment out of Fort Lewis, Washington, was home for 18 days of R&R, visiting his family in Pacific Palisades. He returned to Iraq this week to complete his deployment in the Diyala Province, where on January 9 a booby-trapped home exploded and killed six American soldiers. As Trevor sat across from me at his speaking engagement at the Optimist Club meeting with his stepmother, Kathy Caldwell, and father Geoff, a retired airline pilot who now sells real estate for California Prudential Realty, I saw the quintessential American family. They looked like a portrait one might find in California Lifestyle magazine, a far cry from the ugliness of what is happening in Iraq. Shelden, 29, was born in Fullerton and moved with his family to Park City, Utah, in 1986, eventually graduating from the University of Utah, where he majored in criminology. After graduation, he came to a crossroads in his life. “I looked to my family for influence,” Shelden said. “My choices were either real estate or the military. I was looking for adventure, so I chose the military. But I knew it was the right choice, I knew it was my calling.” In April 2007, Shelden arrived in Iraq. Two years of military training could not prepare him for what he would experience. “They did a pretty good job at maneuver training, but they couldn’t prepare me for the fear I would experience once I arrived in Iraq,” he said. His first day there, five mortar rounds exploded 500 meters away. That was when Shelden realized, “Holy cow, we’re really in Iraq.?” It’s not just the fear that overwhelms him, but the living conditions as well. “Even after being there for nine months, I still walk around in awe,” Shelden said, during our interview. “You just can’t fathom the way people think the standard of living should be. Open sewer lines run through the street while people in sandals walk through the muck. The sewage dries up and mixes with the dirt, and when it dries, the smell is indescribable. They’ll throw their trash in the street and let it pile up. Eventually, a pack of wild dogs will come and rip it apart and the people just leave the mess there. After a week or two of buildup, they’ll finally burn it. These are the harshest conditions you could ever think of.” Shelden is an infantry platoon leader who commands 36 of what he calls “the greatest guys.” As Rangers, they are transported via vehicle to the fight. They then go on foot, conducting raids, traffic control and large-scale clearance operations, dismantling explosive devices–from military-grade munitions to homemade explosives. “Everything looks like an IED. It really takes a toll on you,” Shelden said. “You sleep with your pistol next to you and you sleep on the ground.” “At times, the soldiers are able to sleep in the beds of the houses they have cleared, but it’s terrible,” Shelden said. “You wake up wondering why you’re itching so much. The beds are full of mites. There are a lot of guys over there with staph and ringworm. I mandate my men to take showers. Even if they don’t want to, I make them. I don’t want them spreading sickness around.” In Shelden’s first deployment, his platoon encountered 11 explosions and lost three vehicles, but suffered no fatalities. In one of these attacks, Shelden was standing up in the hatch of his vehicle when an explosive went off in front of his path. The debris hit him in the face, knocking him unconscious. His family received word that Shelden had been injured in Iraq, but no other details were revealed. For two days they knew nothing of the fate of their son, only that he was in a field hospital. “They don’t tell you what happened,” Geoff Shelden said. “They only tell you that your son’s been injured. Everybody back here got excited. Then Trevor calls us up two days later saying, “Oh, I just got knocked out, but everything’s fine. The tube got shook up, but the TV still works.” “You worry about it every day,” Geoff added. “One day Trevor called me and said, “I hear you haven’t been eating, Dad. You have to understand, I want to be here, so you just have to let it go. If anything happens to me, it’s my choice.” The day after his injury, Shelden was back out in the field. “You get hurt, you get pushed right back out of the gate,” he said. “You have no choice but to conquer the fear.” And fear looms close at every moment.” It’s pretty much constant. It’s the unknown that?s the worst. My biggest fear is driving down the road, because you know they hear you coming.” Considering all he’s been through, Shelden’s morale remains high. “After seeing movies about World War II and Vietnam, you realize this isn’t so bad.” Every so often the generals will do assessments to make sure the men remain motivated. And for the first time in history, the army has offered officers a retention bonus of up to $35,000 to continue their contract. There is now a 35-percent stay rate for officers. “My morale’s especially high at night when I can lay my head on a pillow and sleep,” Shelden said. “The surge also helped. Before, there was no end in sight. Now there’s hope.” At home on leave, Shelden’s spirits remained elevated, although the deployment took its toll in a personal way. Two days after Christmas, he was at the airport in Utah holding flowers and candy as he awaited the arrival of his girlfriend’s plane. As the passengers disembarked the aircraft, Tammy, whom he dated for 2-1/2 years, was nowhere to be seen. He tried calling her, only to receive no answer. He was finally able to reach her father. “She can’t go through this anymore,” he told Shelden. “It’s too hard for her. She can’t handle another deployment.” “That’s my Dear John story,” Shelden said. “And it will probably be my only one, since I won’t be meeting anyone in Iraq.” When Shelden returns to Iraq, he will join up with his regiment to finish his deployment. In June, he redeploys and in September, he goes to Fort Bragg, North Carolina, to try out for Special Forces. If he makes it, he will be in training for at least a year and could possibly return to Iraq. Shelden has no specific plans after his commitment is up. “I just have to focus on getting through these three years,” he said. “But I can’t ever imagine not being in uniform.” When asked if he thought he might someday return to Iraq as a tourist, he said, “I’d like to go back someday, but even in 40 years, I don’t think it’ll be very different.” To support Captain Trevor Sheldon with letters, care packages or toys for the local children, you can contact him at: CPT Trevor W Shelden, Bravo Co. 2-23 IN, FOB Normandy, APO AE 09324