Ready to fight

The morning was warm and started early. I was the NCOIC (Noncommissioned Officer in charge) of the AT4 rocket launcher range for the U.S. Army 10th Mountain Division's 210th Forward Support Battalion at Ft. Drum, N.Y.

I remember arguing with a young soldier, who was telling me that she wouldn't lie down in the mud to practice firing the weapon because she just signed up for the college money and would never be in a combat situation. We had a brief discussion about my obligation to teach her and her obligation to learn and how fulfilling those obligations may save one of her friends or save me from writing a very hard letter to her parents one day. She learned to fire a rocket launcher, from the prone position, in a muddy fighting position seconds later.

My next memory is of my platoon leader running out on to my range, looking very intent. I informed him he needed a flak vest and Kevlar helmet to approach my range. He informed me, very quietly, that we had been attacked and were going to war and that I needed to assemble the troops. The other two sergeants and myself loaded the troops on the LMTVs and drove them to the barracks.

We downloaded the trucks, got the soldiers in formation and went to each soldier's room, one by one, to unplug the TV and phone and help them pack for war as fast as possible. When we got to the arms room to draw our weapons, rumors started to emerge that planes had flown kamikaze missions in New York City. I remember picturing a couple small kit planes hitting buildings and wondering what all the fuss was about. When we got to the airfield tarmac, we were briefed.

The look of shock and sadness and anger made the crowd of hundreds look like one horrified entity. We were told that we were waiting for a plane to take us to Afghanistan, where we would hunt down those responsible. The initial reports of casualties were mind-numbing. The thought of our beloved towers crumbling to the ground, with people leaping to an obvious death to avoid the inferno, started to burn into our minds. We would sit on that tarmac for 30 hours, waiting for a plane that wouldn't come.

I didn't lose any friends or family in the events of that day but I lost several in the wars that followed. I have never been to war. Another unit got the call and we were granted a stand down.

I will always remember where I was that day, 500 miles from ground zero, thinking about my friends and family and how my life was about to change. I hoped that I would see them all again. It was at that time I realized that the things we enjoy doing and the people we enjoy doing them with is our wealth. That's what we think about when the chips are down and it's what gives us joy amidst the chaos.

Eric Soles is a Kootenai County resident and financial adviser for Edward Jones.