Journey of the Decieved

  I will never forget the day I became a Marine; my Drill Instructor placed the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor in my hand and told me he was proud of me, that I would be a great Marine.  If you were never a part of the Corps you may not understand the importance of this moment.  It is a very emotional ceremony, and is the one time in boot camp when it is acceptable to cry; and many new Marines do as they realize that what they have worked so hard for has become a reality.  I didn't cry; for me the moment was surreal.  I looked my Drill Instructor in his eyes and shook his hand and then I gazed at my fellow Marines and the mountains that surrounded us and wondered at the journeys life takes us on. 

The day was momentous for me because I had wanted to earn that title since I was twelve years old.  I had sat glued to the television eight years before that day, watching as nearly three thousand Americans were maliciously murdered in cold blood.  I told myself that one day I would defend my country from the people responsible for that horrific attack.  I decided I would join the toughest branch of the military and become a warrior for the land that I love.  My twelve year old mind hoped that there would still be some bad guys to kill when I got there.

In the following years I became infatuated with Marine Corps culture.  I studied it's history, customs, and tactics.  I practiced drill movements and recited diddies,dates, and facts; hoping that one day all of this would make me the best of the best.  I earned the title and my hard work paid off, I was good at what I did; and I loved the Marine Corps.

And then one day I opened my eyes...

And my world came crashing down. 

I was in Afghanistan and I was full of questions.  I didn't know who the "bad guys" were, I knew I was supposed to kill them but I didn't know who they were.  I knew Al Qaeda was responsible for the attacks that brought me here but we were fighting the Taliban.  I was ashamed to realize that I had no knowledge of Al Qaeda or the Taliban other than they were my enemy and they were bad.  I further recognized that I didn't have any knowledge of the country I was in besides the war and what I saw daily.  I was truly ashamed that I was in Afghanistan without this knowledge, so I began to research.

The first thing I discovered was that Al Qaeda was started and funded by the American Central Intelligence Agency; Osama Bin Laden, my enemy, was a CIA asset.  After seeing this shocking truth I couldn't stop; I took the red pill that day and began looking for answers.

The rabbit hole goes deep.