The boy whose parents used to refer to him as
”
sweet baby James
”
is no longer as innocent and trusting as his parents remember
him after 13 months of navigating mine fields in the Iraqi
desert.
The boy whose parents used to refer to him as “sweet baby James” is no longer as innocent and trusting as his parents remember him after 13 months of navigating mine fields in the Iraqi desert.
Gilroy resident and Army specialist, James Paradiso, 21, has seen two close friends promoted, only after they died from roadside explosions. He has learned to be wary of stray dogs, because sometimes the animals act as walking bombs. And he’s learned “only to shoot when absolutely necessary,” which is often when you’re an American soldier in Iraq.
Despite the grisly sights Paradiso has witnessed, little has changed when he comes home. The first thing he did upon his return was call his best friend from childhood, Steven Bowman.
“We just drove,” said Paradiso, who attended Gilroy High School but graduated from Mount Madonna Continuation High School. “It was great.”
In the States, Paradiso is just a regular kid who works on his 1970 Dodge Dart by day and rides his 2007 Honda CBR 600, a sportbike known for its speed, by night.
“I’m on that bike all through the night,” he said. “I’ve put 14,000 miles on it since June.”
In Iraq and “away from the real world,” Paradiso has to forget all that. Instead of motorcycles and vintage cars, he drives tanks.
“Our past life is a distraction,” he said. “We are trained to be soldiers. We are going to war.”
In June, he’s headed back to the desert for 15 more months, a mission he’s dreading.
He saw what war was like during his previous 13 month stint overseas. For more than a year, he was stationed 30 miles southeast of Baghdad on the Euphrates River. The river that once cradled the ancient Mesopotamian civilization now runs with dead bodies, Paradiso remembered. The scorching desert heat left him and his fellow troops drenched with sweat under the gray, smoke-filled sky.
The “Death Dealers,” as his unit was called, bonded well in the extreme conditions, he said. “We’re all in it together” was the mentality they lived by, Paradiso said. That’s why it was so hard to lose a friend and let go of their plans for the future. When they returned home, they hoped to restore classic cars together. After his friend stepped on a mine, their dreams died as well. Paradiso had to say good-bye to a 25-year-old father of two nicknamed “the Bulldog.”
“We clicked right away,” Paradiso said of his friend. “He was a good buddy of mine but there’s nothing you can do. It’s so hard.” Despite their stoic demeanor, Paradiso confirmed that soldiers do cry. He keeps his friend’s Army issued ID tucked safely away in his wallet. “It goes with me everywhere.”
See more photos of Paradiso in uniform in our
