Of Glory and a Plan Beyond The Reach of Mortal Ken

  (Author's note: This blog may best be enjoyed while sipping a hot beverage such as cocoa or coffee, neither of which were available to the author during the writing of this entry. The author hopes you feel a slight twang of guilt as you enjoy your wintry drink.)

  I want to start by saying that I’m not writing this to make anyone jealous, or try to flaunt my good fortunes in front of anyone…but I get to celebrate Christmas a full 11 hours before any of you back home. Does it mean Santa loves me a little more? Or that I am slightly higher on that Nice list than any of you naughty folks? Or perhaps, that I have more Christmas spirit in one finger than the entire eastern sea board of America combined? The answer to these questions is…maybe. Or perhaps, it’s just that I am on the other side of the world, the side that makes less sense and has 97% less Christmas cheer than your side. It’s Christmas Eve here already, and instead of enjoying Christmasy foods and time with my family, I’m sitting at the Iraqi police compound in Abu Graib, Iraq, as part of the Quick Reaction Force that my platoon covers every few days. It’s 24 hours of non stop fun and festivities…if you like sitting around a musty tent, trying to stay out the heat of the day, and laying on your cot sleeping. I planned ahead though, and have been enjoying my own holiday festivities…I brought a few Christmas movies on my laptop, some candy from the stockings that my mom and my beautiful girlfriends Sammi’s mother sent me, and tried to spread good cheer all day. This mostly resulted in me being made fun of…but I still have my candy and movies. Being a 24 hour shift, I’ve put a hurting on the movie list too…none of the traditional classics, but a few solid choices anyways. “Die Hard” is a fantastic Christmas movie, I don’t care what anyone says. “Now I have a machine gun, ho ho ho.” Christmas cheer, indeed! There is something very weird about spending this time of year over here, so far from the buzz of shoppers and decorations, the music piped through every set of speakers no matter where you go, the trees, the lights, and even just having a wintry chill in the air. When it gets below 60 degrees here guys grab extra layers. I’ve tried to enjoy some of the finer things myself…I received some awesome decorations in the mail, and some great Christmas music from my little sis…more than that though, it has definitely given me a chance to truly appreciate the reason behind all of the celebrating and fun that I usually enjoy this time of year. The time with family and people that we love, celebrating the birth of Christ and the eternal life He has blessed us with through His life here on earth.

  The season hasn’t been all cheer and silliness, of course. Things have been exciting in our area of operations, and from everything we are told (which is even less than you might think) we are not exactly on anyone’s christmas card list. The elections here in Iraq were pushed back from January to March to try and build up some more security before they happen. They have kept my platoon, the mighty 3^rd, extremely busy. We are one of the smaller platoons now, but have the best record of any unit in the battalion, both because we perform well and do our jobs with style and violence, and because we are the only platoon that hasn’t screwed up yet. This is good for your favorite private Snyder, because it mostly means I am working with the best guys possible right now…but it also means we get the exciting assignments. While other platoons are helping train Iraqi police on basic stuff, we’re cordoning and searching entire villages and rolling up on some very bad dudes. It makes the days fly by though…it’s already been nearly 4 months since I left now, and only a few short months left until I get to come home for a couple of weeks! I already have so many things planned out, whole lists of places to go and real foods to eat…and some other big events. It’s going to be an amazing break from the craziness here, and I cannot even tell you how excited I am to get back to something like normal life, sleep in a real bed, take a real shower…wear normal shoes again. Yeah. Go ahead and laugh. Tell me you don’t take that for granted. I love my boots to death, but I’m pretty sure there will be tears the first time I put my Vans back on these feet…I’m pretty sure my body won’t know what to do with real food either, or a full nights sleep…I’m getting froggy just thinking about it.

  This month has been pretty tough for me to be away from home, too. As I’m sure most of you know, one of my best friends in the world crossed the Jordan into paradise this month. Anthony Vietti was an incredible man and a better friend, and even though I am fully and painfully aware that my presence wouldn’t have made a difference, every part of my being wanted to be home with everyone. Trying to deal with life here, my job and other guys in my squad requiring my full attention, but having my heart and mind on the other side of the world…My father was incredibly gracious and agreed to read a few words from me at his memorial, and that meant so much to me. I know and fully trust that God has an incredible plan for everything that has happened, and I have already seen little bits and pieces of His glory being shown. A lot of my tracking and updates on everything that happened came from the media, websites and news videos following the progress of the search, and bits and pieces of info on Anthony and the other two climbers. By the second day of the search, almost every single story online spoke about their faith in Christ, and some of the missions and camps they had worked at. Video interviews with different people involved in the search, video of Aunt Terri speaking about their lives and faith…so many testimonies of His glory and grace for the world to see. For my part, I learned what it truly means to pray honestly that His will would be done, and praise Him even in the midst of pain and loss. The hymn, ‘It Is Well With My Soul” became like a mantra to me, a constant prayer as I tried to focus on my job and everything else going on immediately around me. God has been so incredibly faithful to me these past few months, helping me to find joy and strength in Him no matter what, and has given me opportunities to share my faith and attitude with other guys in my platoon. That is one of the things I will always remember Anthony by, his unapologetic and shameless professions of faith, in his words and how he lived. My squadmates all heard about the ordeal on the mountain, and what I was going through…and more than one of them have come to me and asked about how I can still be smiling, why I’m not a complete wreck, and one even asked how I can still believe in a God who would let this happen. In every case, I have been able to joyfully express my love and faith, and trust that He has also brought me to this place, with these guys, for a reason. Anthony and the life he lived continue to inspire me everyday, and though I miss him more than I can even describe, I am so joyful knowing that he is in the presence of the Almighty, whom he served daily and faithfully…and that I will see him there someday.

  I want to thank you all for your notes, your prayers, your stories…My parents have been so amazingly supportive, always writing to make sure I’m alive and doing well, and my little brother Dave has been the funniest kid ever…he will start chatting with me on facebook when he happens to check his, and I never know exactly where the conversations will go…but I think he might be funnier than the rest of us Snyders combined. If he’s taller than me when I get home too…well, there can be only one. Gracie has been sweet too, writing to me and burning the greatest christmas music on the face of the planet for me…I have been able to write to many of you already, and more of you are on the list…I’m sorry it has taken me so long. My beautiful girlfriend Samantha has been so incredible too…I can never thank her enough for her constant encouragement and support. She is one of the funniest girls alive too…holy cow.

  One of my biggest joys has been from a surprising place here. A majority of the Iraqi people want nothing to do with us, and after getting to know some of the guys I work with, I definitely don’t blame them. Every so often though, once in a dirty blue moon, I come across a truly awesome Iraqi. One of the Iraqi Army guys we work with is pretty hilarious…most of the guys in my platoon will just ignore or be flat out rude to them, but I always try to smile and give them a little “Salam a lakum” (I have no idea how that’s actually spelled…it’s the greeting. Don’t worry your head about it) One of the guys though, who speaks about 3 words in English, is a great pantomimer, and since I’m not too shabby and actually respond to him, he always seeks me out when we’re on a mission with them. We actually have some hilarious conversations, which is saying a lot when you can’t use words. We were clearing a farm area and searching for anything suspicious, and he was pointing at different farm animals and imitating the noises they make. It was like that children’s toy with the wheel and cord you pull to hear, ‘The cow says…moooo’ He would make a noise, and wait for me to do my impression…then he explained where to find the good meat, which animals were probably pregnant, and how best to slaughter a sheep with the different pieces of gear I had on. If you don’t know how to put a sheep down with only your carabiner and a watch, come find me someday and I will spread the knowledge. Another time we were patrolling through a pretty busy village, which held the school for the area. Lots of little kids came running around, and most of them gave a us a pretty wide berth. I don’t really blame them…I like to think that if I was a third grader and a bunch of foreign dudes with guns came sauntering down my street, I would be smart enough to clear out. One little dude, though, had other plans. He was about as tall as my hip, just a tiny little guy…but he came strutting up like it was his street, and I was in his way. About 10 feet from me, he threw his hand up and locked it above his head, the in the internationally understood gesture for, “HIGH 5 MY HAND FOOL!” I couldn’t say no to that, and goodness knows I’m no fool, so I took my hand off of my gun, held it low enough for Tiny Tim to hit, and gave him what was probably the single greatest slapping of hands he will ever see. He started laughing, and danced around the street in sheer glee…everything in my wanted to shed my armor and dance with him for some reason. Everything here is so serious, so stressful…you know, because of the whole being at war thing. He instantly reminded me of home, being carefree and just having fun…he reminded me of my campers at Trout Creek, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. He followed me down the street, and about 300 meters later we stopped and took up positions to provide security for our LT as he spoke to some high up mucky muck. My new sidekick followed me to my corner, and over the course of the next 10 minutes I taught him how to bump fists, and call it “Daps” like they do on the street. Everytime he high fived me, I howled in pain and acted like my hand was broken…it was just like the games I played with my little cousins the Bradleys, and I started missing home like crazy. It the midst of our game, my platoon sergeant walked up to find out why this little Iraqi kid was still around…I thought for sure I was busted, and about to get in serious trouble. Instead, he just laughed, and offered the little guy his own fist to get daps. I was so happy the entire rest of the day, getting just that small taste of getting to be myself again, not having to deal with war for just a few minutes.

  That’s all for now…I hope that you are having a wonderful Christmas as your read this, and I want you to go hug your family for me…enjoy them a little extra this year. I have been so blessed by each of you and I know that you have been blessed by each other, and the families that you are spending this time with. Make sure that they know that…I am praying constantly for you all, and I can’t wait to get my little action home and tell you stories myself…so much gets lost in the written word, without the voices or motions that so many of these stories need to be told with any justice…Merry Christmas!

Nate

Of New Adventures and Falafel...

  Welcome back to the Danger Chronicles!  I guess I should start out by saying that I’m sorry it has taken me so long to update this tale of adventuring and world-saving…Life has been more than a little crazy, and it has taken some huge adjustments to get back to a place that I felt I could write about. That being said, I’m trying to make it a bigger priority to write here more often, keep all of you, my dear family and friends, up to date and in the loop about the goings on in this part of the world. I realized that I haven’t written since Kuwait, so I have all kinds of stuff to catch you up on. Go grab a beverage, maybe a snack, and buckle up…

  It took us about a day to travel from Kuwait to Bahgdad…first by bus, then another bus, then a long wait in a crowded tent, then a third bus, a little hop in a C-17, and finally a fourth bus. The C-17 is a giant military plane, insanely huge on the inside…but when you’re carrying a full company of infantry with all of their gear, it doesn’t feel nearly so big. We were wearing our full kit, helmet, body armor, pads, weapon, ammo, and our duffels, so movement between busses was pretty tricky, but insanely funny. When someone lost their balance and slowly keeled over, they couldn't stand up again if their life depended on it…not the greatest feeling when you’re going to be wearing most of that gear everyday for the next year, but still kind of funny. They packed us into the plane so tightly, we couldn't get to our seatbelts…even if we had flown the entire way upside down, I don’t think a single one of us would have come out of our seats though. Around 3am we finally got our room assignments and got to sleep for a little while. The next day was spent inventorying all of our gear and personnel, making sure everyone and everything had made it to our camp without trouble. We were put onto a 15 day spin up cycle, where over the next two weeks we would outfit our Strykers, get our weapons ready, train in squad and team tactics, and slowly integrate ourselves into the patrol schedule. The bad guys decided to play early, though, and our first full night here, we were hit with a rocket attack from somewhere out in sector. 5 guys were hurt, and one was killed…definitely a huge wake up for us, that we weren’t training anymore, this was the big game now. They took our 15 days spin up and compressed it into 3 days, because there were no other combat companies in our AO, or area of operations, to keep and eye and patrol for trouble. Those days were a blur, very little sleep, no personal time whatsoever…but we hit our goal and were out in sector right away. For the first month we spent every day on patrol in some way, trying to root out the jerks with the rockets and get to know the area better. Overall, things have been pretty frustrating…almost all of the big attacks we’ve faced have been indirect, mortars and rockets, so there is no one to go after directly. It can be incredibly stressful too, since the enemy doesn’t wear uniforms or draw lines…anyone watching us from the streets or markets could be planning something, ready to hit the button that sends him and everyone around him to Allah…you have to be on guard all day, everyday. The good part is, all of the craziness and stress has brought my squad together pretty well, and made us all veterans in pretty short order…guys who were nervous and fidgety about going outside the wire are now cool, able to watch out for danger without jumping at shadows. We’ve built some rapport with a few of the locals, too…one shop owner that we pass every so often hooks us up with falafels and this bizarre peach drink after we helped keep some trouble away from his stall…Purely selfishly. I love falafel. They make this flatbread over here that is amazing, and they stuff it with fresh veggies and these weird balls of corn meal that are so good…So far the only Arabic I have learned is how to tell someone to stop, lay down, get away, and I want to buy falafel. There is an Iraqi Police compound that we spend every 3^rd or 4^th day at, helping train the police and staying guard for 24 hours at a time, so if someone in sector bites off more than they can chew and needs the professionals to come regulate, we roll out as the QRF, or quick reaction force. At this compound, there is a little old man who runs the falafel shop, who hooks us up with sweet deals on amazing food that he makes. I decided one day that I really just wanted the flat bread, without anything else…its so good…anyways, I grabbed our interpreter Peter (not his real name, I’m sure) and asked him how to order just the bread. He looked at me like I had just grown horns and asked, “What do you want in it?”

“Nothing at all.” says I. “just the bread.”

“Okay…but what will you put inside it?”

“I shall put naught inside it, but my teeth…”

“So…just lettuce and (insert Arabic word for little balls of cornmeal)?”

“Nope, just bread, Peter. You can do whatever you want with the insides, just give me some tasty bread.”

  Peter shook his head and started to explain this to the shop owner…I could tell that the little old man was having as hard a time understanding this as Peter was. They went back and forth, and I explained to Peter a few more times that I only wanted flatbread…and finally the old man gave in and went inside. Now normally, we get 5 falafels for 5 bucks…they love the 5 dollar bill for some reason. They won’t take 5 one dollar bills, but they’ll do anything for a 5 spot. I handed over Mr Lincoln, expecting 5 pieces of flatbread…and instead was handed 2 full grocery bags full of bread. Apperently, the exchange rate for flatbread is 40 pieces for 5 dollars…I had a pretty great day after that. I handed them out to the platoon, and became a hero for 5 minutes…and still had more delicious flatbread than I could handle. It can be a magical country, every blue moon or so. I’ve also had my fun with the Iraqi Police, or IPs. They think it’s really funny to come up to us and start talking really fast in Arabic, fully aware that we have no idea what they’re talking about. This really threw a few of our guys at first, frustrating them and confusing them to no end. Fortunately, I’ve spent some time with punk kids in my time, and learned to recognize such games…and I started talking back. About the same speed, I would start lecturing them on the dangers of a high lactose diet, the intricacies of the Star Wars trilogy and it’s impact on modern cinema, and even my ideas on improving their garbage disposal process…namely, doing something with their garbage, instead of throwing it into the street. The IPs were pretty confused at first, and then a couple of the other guys in my platoon started picking up on the game and laying it themselves…it’s pretty awesome. A few of the IPs understand some English, and I’ve gotten pretty good at charades so I can hold pretty basic conversations with them…mostly about weapons or Disneyland, things like that. I’ve had a few pretty sweet encounters though…one IP loved kung fu movies, and we ended up having an epic battle on the side of their compound, full of bruce lee noises and fake fighting…the IP who LOVES micheal Jackson, and was still saddened by his passing…but could sing and dance ot every one of his hits. There are a couple of guys here who respect me a little less for doing the thriller dance with him, but it made me laugh all day, and had to look pretty goofy…me in full armor, with my machine gun strapped to my chest, and him with his AK hangly loosly from his uniform, dancing around…I wish they all could have such a sense of humor. The country of Iraq itself looks pretty miserable…think about any post-apocalyptic movie where the city is torn apart and there is just junk everywhere, and you’ll get close. I will try to take some more pictures to show you, but a lot of the city is just a dump. Some of the farm areas, by contrast, can be kind of pretty…groves of palm trees (that can hide snipers) fields of green crops (that can be hiding any number of explosives or other fun things) and packs of dogs (usually feral and slightly on the rabid side…but the puppies still look like puppies, and it’s only a matter of time before I try to kidnap one).
  Our schedule has normalized a little...we're on a three day cycle right now. One day of patrol, so we're out in sector for 10 -12 hours, one 24 hour day of QRF, and then a maintenance day to service our strykers and gear, and get a little rest before doing it all over again. I don't get much downtime, but I've learned to treasure what time I do get.

  I want to thank you all for your thoughts and prayers…I definitely had a few hard days getting adjusted and dealing with everything, and wasn’t feeling as joyful and fun as I usually am. I know that He has brought me exactly where I am for a reason, and I am finding my strength in Him daily. I have been blessed with incredibly supportive and loving family, amazing friends, and an unbelievably fantastic and loving girlfriend who have all stood by me,  encouraged me without end and prayed for me daily. Without all of you, I wouldn’t be doing nearly as well as I am now…I have a growing rep with my platoon, and even the company of being a happy kid, smiling way too much and not letting the craziness get me down. I’ve had a chance to encourage a few of the guys around here, and generally bring some joy to my squad. I set up some speakers in the back of our truck, so on mission we can rock out and listen to my ipod. You haven’t truly enjoyed a song until you’ve heard 8 heavily armed guys singing, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” or “Buttercup” at the top of their lungs while scanning for roadside bombs…oh, life.

  I will do my best to update this a little more often than every 3 months, especially as things around here change and I have more stories to tell. Please feel free to write me anytime, or send me some thoughts or verses…I appreciate hearing from you all, and am praying constantly for you. Keep your eyes on Him, and enjoy yourself a little extra today for me!

Nate

The First of Many...

  Warning to the reader: The Danger Chronicles are not for the faint of heart, or for reading while enjoying soup or easily spill-able liquids or foods. This is the record of journeys, misadventures and tales that I will be a part of over the next few months, and if feel like tagging along for the ride, you've come to the right place. For those of you who remember emails from Virginia years ago, I'm hoping to follow in my own giant boot prints and keep you all entertained and informed of the happenings and fun that I'm sure this time will bring. I'm currently in Kuwait, which I'm told is a part of the cradle of civilization. If this is to be believed, then I think Kuwait must be the little puke stain in that cradle that just can't be bleached out. It's kind of a miserable place...think Tattooine from the first Star Wars film, but without the canyons or dirty cantinas. You will not find a more wretched hive of...well, nothing, really. In my 25 years of life I have never seen a place that is so completely flat, desolate, and brown...there is nothing to break up the landscape at all, no mountains, trees, brush...nada. It looks like the beach, where if you can just get over this next dune, you'll see the ocean spread out before you. Here, there is just another long stretch of sand. All I'm trying to say is, if you had plans to hit Kuwait on your tour of the world, I can draw you a picture. It wont take long.
  We've been here for a little over 2 weeks now, and my whole platoon is itching to finally head north into Iraq, which sounds kind of funny. In Iraq, we'll be housed in little military barracks rooms, not tents, we'll have internet, unlike here, and we will finally be working. It sounds wierd to be excited to finally get into a warzone, but thats the general attitude. The rumor is that we'll be moving in the next day or two, so we're packed and ready to roll. We're all going a little stir crazy...everyone is swapping movies and computer games, and we've watched most of them by now.  I've had time to read, watch movies,  and defend my house from zombie attacks (thanks again Sammers!) but I'm excited to have my own place, unpack my stuff a little, and get connected to the net more consistently. It's been hard to be so disconnected from everyone's lives, and I fully blame Facebook. Once I'm settled, I will be able to check my stuff and post adventures on here pretty regularly, which will help me out even if no one reads them. I've been doing pretty well for myself these weeks though, making a couple of friends and finding my groove with my squad. My roomate is the platoon medic, Caleb Poston, and he's a pretty decent kid. He's a believer, and one of the only 2 that I've met in the company. It's kind of amazing how much that makes guys stick out here...please keep him, his wife, and little boy in your prayers. It's hard to be away from family and loved ones as it is, but his little guy is only a month old...he and I have been talking alot out here, keeping ourselves entertained with dumb games and stories, and he's already been a huge answer to prayer.
  As a unit, we're pretty squared away and ready for Iraq, even though we're not 100% sure what we're going to be doing. The Army rumor mill is pretty impressive, so I've heard everything from months of sitting around on the base playing xbox and taking classes to invading Russia, so I'm just trying to wait and see what happens. I know that no matter what, I'm in His hands and He has a purpose for me being here, in the specific unit and with these specific guys...I'm doing my best to stay open and faithful to what it is that He has for me out here. I know that he will protect me, too...I've been reading Psalm 91 almost everyday on top of my other reading, and I've been pretty encouraged.
  Thats about it for now...I will post pictures and stories whenever I can, and feel free to write me or leave notes anytime. For those of you who are curious exactly what unit I'm with, just in case my heroics are on the news someday, I'm in the 2nd Infantry Division, 4th Brigade, 1-38 INF regiment, Alpha Company, 3rd platoon, 1st squad, out of Ft Lewis WA. I'll post my mailing address soon, but for now Facebook or emails are the best way to send me a note, and you get bonus points for doing so. Seriously. if you don't believe me, write me a note. See what happens. I dare you.