The origin of this site actually started about 6 years ago. At that time, I was a Sergeant with the US Army. While deployed to Bosnia-Herzegovina in support of Operation Joint Endeavor, my understanding of the importance of our country's global role became painfully clear.
I left my wife, stepson and my first newborn son, to go to a place where many felt we shouldn't be. My first day in the staging area, I sustained a serious spinal injury when I was caught between a loaded trailer and a flatbed train car. After several days in the field hospital, it was determined that, although my injury had been serious, my role in the deployment necessitated further travel.
- 3 months later -
The Balkan winter had really set in. Temperatures reaching well below zero in the middle of the day was becoming routine. On this particular afternoon, we were convoying out to a communications site that had been the last major engagement of the Balkan conflict. It was a tiny clearing on a massive hilltop that once served as a devastating Serbian Artillery Base.
Enroute to our location, I noticed a young couple walking along a damaged train track. Their clothes were tattered; their faces worn from the hardship of survival. A small boy held the young man's hand, struggling to keep up. His mother clutched tightly a wrapped bundle of blankets that only halfway shielded their infant daughter from the cold. Darkness was falling across the landscape.
Shortly thereafter, we turned up the dirt road that lead to the top of the mountain. It was the only cleared path leading up, as the rest of the mountain was still encircled with thousands of landmines. The last bits of light cast shadows across the remains of some of those who fought valiantly against their oppressors, only to join the nearly 5,000 other bodies still left in the minefield. These courageous people knowingly charged up a mine-ridden hillside in their fight to be free.
Upon reaching the top, we settled in for the night and got busy with our tasks at hand. Shortly before dawn, we had wrapped up our work and contemplated grabbing a few hours of much needed sleep. But a last check in the Operations room greeted us with news of an incoming mid-morning snowstorm. The decision was made and we packed to make the convoy back to base.
Several kilometers into the drive, we rounded a bend in the road that parallelled the railroad track. In the early morning light, I could just make out the sihlouette of something on the tracks. It was the family we saw walking the previous night. They were huddled together while sitting between the tracks as we stopped to offer help.
As casualties of conflict resulting from tyrannical oppression and attempted genocyde, the mother sat motionless with her lips pressed against the partially bared skin of her infant daughter's forehead. Their son curled up between the laps of his parents as his father wrapped them all in his arms. Sometime in the middle of that night, while a world questioned the legitimacy of America's resolve to make a difference, this family froze to death in each others arms.
Six months later I returned to my family. Two months thereafter I learned that my spine had been broken by my previous accident and that my military career was over. More than 11 years of service behind me; I would be starting over from scratch. It hurt realizing I was leaving a life I was passionate about as my family prepared to go back to America.
This site is a culmination of my observations. I know the difference between our way of life and the alternatives. I also know the importance of fighting to protect it. Since I can no longer lace up my boots and sling my rifle, this has become my new way of trying to do something positive that can help others.
If you've read this far, I would like to leave you with two thoughts. First, Thank You for giving me your time to share my story and second...
...what are you going to do to make your difference?
 Bosnia - 1996 to 1997
 The family that stands by me every step of the way...
Life today.
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