I first wrote a version of this post 7 years ago. It feels appropriate to remember year 25.
25 years ago tomorrow morning, I woke up and went to PT. I ran down Ardennes from York Theater to Smoke Bomb Hill and back. The same thing I did every day. After PT I went home to my government housing at 11C Bastogne. I was with my trooper Rob, who had a soldier of the month board later that morning. We were working on making sure his uniform was squared away. Barbara was upstairs taking care of 4 year old Alex, three year old William and not quite one year old baby Matthew.
The phone rang, Barb answered. A few moments later she called down that it was my mom. My mom had called to tell her that something crazy was going on in New York and insisted Barb turn on the TV. Barb came downstairs ashen faced, holding Matthew. “Y’all have to see this.”
We turned on the downstairs TV and watched transfixed. We saw the second plane hit the towers. When that happened, my pager went off. Then Dias’ pager went off. I called our platoon office. 1LT Donahue answered. “It’s Hall, sir. What is happening?” “Not sure. We meet with the BC in 5. You guys need to get your gear and get back as soon as possible. It’s a full lockdown. As of now we are on full alert.”
Rob and I grabbed our stuff. I got my “go gear” from the closet - a fully packed duffle and rucksack already packed for airframe and ready to go. Barb loaded the kids up in the car, and we threw our stuff in the back. She took us back to the company area and dropped us off. I said goodbye to her and the kids. “I don’t know when I will be back. I don’t know anything really.” “I know” she said, “I love you.”
When we got in the company area everyone was huddled around TVs watching the coverage. We watched the towers fall. “SSG HALL!” boomed the voice of our First Sergeant. “You need to get to the BC’s office right now. He wants to talk to you.” I rushed over to Battalion HQ and knocked on his door.
“SSG Hall. Glad you’re here. Look son, there is stuff going on. I don’t know what role the 82d will have in this, but we are damn sure gonna have one. Here’s what I need to know. I need to have absolute confidence that every piece of equipment in this battalion works. Every radio. Every computer. Every night vision device. And I need you to be the one that handles this. Get set up. Give me a plan. And we’ll make it happen. You have 20 minutes to brief me.” I saluted and turned to leave. “One more thing Jeff” (he had never called me by my first name) “This is really important. And that’s why I am giving it to you. Don’t fail me. And don’t stop until it gets done. We may be at war this time tomorrow.”
I didn’t sleep for three days. My team and I tested every piece of equipment. I got a medal.
We didn’t leave for war the next day. A year later that unit deployed for Afghanistan. I was in Korea. I got my chance the next year though, and went to Afghanistan in 2003.
For the 6 years I served before 9-11 the Army was a 9-5 job where they paid me to be in great shape and talk shit. It was perfect for me in my 20s. The longest I had been away from home was 25 days. I planned on being a soldier for as long as they would let me.
During the 6 years after 9-11, I was home for 18 months. They were non consecutive. I would be home for 2 weeks, leave, home 3 months, leave, home 4 days, leave. Every time I came home I either already had orders to leave again or would get them within days of being home. Even when I was home I wasn’t home.
War broke me. It finished the process started by having a narcissist mom and surviving childhood sexual trauma. When I left the Army in 2007 I had nothing left. I was a barely functional alcoholic with rage issues, depression, anxiety and untreated PTSD. I was a mess. In 2010 I began the process of trying to get better. It has been a long and winding path, with detours to jail and psych facilities, electro convulsive therapy and warrior meditation, a suicide attempt and the death of friends. But I’m here. And most of the time I am glad about that.
Through it all I have come out the other side. I don’t know what kind of person I am. I leave that judgement to others. I know what I try to be - someone who lives honestly and tries to make a difference. That’s all I can do. 9-11 showed me that I am not superman. I am just a regular guy. That’s all.
One of the things that people will say today is that 9-11 changed the world. I don’t know. I know it changed me. And while there is much about the last 25 years I haven’t enjoyed, I am grateful for all of it. Because it has led me here.
May it ever be so.