I was born in southern California and moved to Kentucky in the sixth grade. I had a kid in high school, struggling to pay bills, and working 50 hours a week. That didn't cut it, so I started selling weed. Eventually, I decided the only way to pay for my child, stay out of jail and make it to university was to join the army. I also knew that meant the chance I'd go to war, but I wanted to go to war; I wanted to be a hero and do something good.
The first war in Iraq started a month after I joined. I was in training for a year and was then sent to join them in Baghdad. At that time, I didn't really know why I was going, but I wanted to die for my country and make people proud of me, so I went without question.
I was deployed in Iraq from January 2004 to July 2004. As soon as I got to my unit, I started getting the low down from my fellow soldiers. They said everyone hated us there. I asked them what we were doing there then, and they said, "Just trying to stay alive and make it home."
April 10, 2004, I got hit by a roadside bomb. One of my friends had been hit too, but he got it worse and was discharged for being disabled. When I got my Purple Heart award, he was watching through a window in the other room because he was in pain and not a strong soldier anymore. While I was put on display and had a ceremony, he never had a ceremony.


