One Marine infantryman would rather remember than forget. Lance
Cpl. David Sullivan is putting his experiences in Iraq into words
in his journal.
One Marine infantryman would rather remember than forget. Lance Cpl. David Sullivan is putting his experiences in Iraq into words in his journal.
He calls it his “quest.” He didn’t know what he was searching for when he set out in February. But he has found a new appreciation for life.
“My life will forever be changed,” Sullivan said in an e-mail to The Dispatch. “Nights of sadly weeping from the brutality of the war, the bond of brothers, love letters to the one woman I love, fear of death or the unknown, an enemy who has no face and a God whom I love and trust my life with have all affected me and changed my heart.”
His awareness comes at a price. Less than two months ago, a fellow soldier died from a gunshot wound to the head while riding in the same Humvee Sullivan rides.
“A 19-year-old kid who can’t even buy a beer back home lost his life for his country,” Sullivan said. “It’s sad to see the nature of the beast.”
The bullet holes and blood stains linger in the bed of the Humvee. They are a constant reminder of how precious life is and how fast it can end, he said.
Hallie Sullivan sees the changes in her son, including his new respect for life, family and his faith, she said.
“You grow up a lot when you’re 21 years old and you’re faced with those things,” she said. “We can see he’s really changed.”
Sullivan enlisted in the Marines in 2002 after a semester at San Jose State University. A natural athlete, he was hoping to play college football, she said, but he decided he needed something different.
“Marines really seemed to fit the challenges he wanted,” she said.
Sullivan is a mortarman, but his unit hasn’t used its mortars much, he said. Instead, they have been patrolling the streets, searching homes and vehicles and escorting the Explosives Ordinance Demolition team – the team that safely detonates roadside bombs – around Fallujah. As a member of the Quick Reaction Force, he also can be called on when others need additional fire support.
He couldn’t do his job if it weren’t for support from his mom, dad and three sisters.
He calls home when he is able, talking for up to an hour each time, and he also e-mails his family from his base in Iraq. At times, when they aren’t able to talk for days or even weeks, he takes comfort in knowing his mom has him in her thoughts and prayers.
“The support of my family, and mostly my mother, is the biggest motivating factor I have to rely on,” he said. “She brought me up straight, with a good head on my shoulders and a soft heart towards God. I love my mom to death. That’s why I’m over here.”
Of course, it’s not easy having her only son in harm’s way or, at times, cold and hungry. Once, he was caught in a rainstorm and had to sleep in the mud. His mother laughed about it, saying it was kind of like the camping he did as a child. He called home one time asking for double-A batteries for his Game Boy and snack food.
“We put the call out to everybody,” she said. “He got just boxes of stuff. So he’s been sharing things with his pals over there.”
He missed one landmark moment in the lives of his family. One of his sisters gave birth to a baby boy on April 17. But he called home to get updates.
“He’s got something to look forward to when he comes home,” Hallie Sullivan said.
