With every IED there are essential parts or components that make up the whole:
- A container- used to house anywhere from 20lbs to 2,000 lbs of home made explosives
- The main charge- usually home made explosive or fertilizer in Afghanistan (Ammonium Nitrate)
- Power source- used to power the system
- The trigger- In my case this was two pieces of plywood separated by two bike springs and attached in the middle was a negative wire on one plywood and a positive wire on the other. Stepping on this compresses the springs, the wires meet and the circuit is completed.
- The initiator- Some form of explosive ordnance which creates an explosion and sets off the main charge aka the spark
In my case, the container was a yellow water jug. Inside was the main charge, 40lbs of home made explosives (picture yourself picking up a 40lbs dumbbell, now that dumbbell is the street equivalent of crude TNT). Sitting on top of it was a blasting cap or a couple lbs of TNT (obviously not recovered after the explosion). Attached to that, wires that ran up to the pressure plate of plywood that would soon launch me skyward.
When I say I have analyzed why me and why did this happen, I have never analyzed nor regretted my decisions of that day. My Platoon was under fire, I took evasive action to cover their flank and got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. What I have analyzed is why I am still alive today? See to complete my story of the IED, when I stepped on the pressure plate and those two wires met it did complete the circuit. However, only the initiator, several lbs of TNT enough to brake every bone in my foot and launch me into the air, went off. 40lbs of home made explosive....never went off. 40lbs that would have surely killed me instantly, probably killed or maimed several of my Soldiers who were approximately 10 meters away and caused massive loss to the Platoon lay there, unexploded, even after the initiator had rendered my foot inept.
Weeks earlier my best friend Todd, whom I wrote about earlier, had found himself in the exact same situation. Unfortunately, Todd's batch of homemade explosive did go off and I lost my best friend September 9, 2010, only two weeks prior to my incident. I remember laying in my hospital bed at Kandahar Airfield late on the first night after the accident. General Hodges (American Forces ISAF- S liaison) had just pinned on my purple heart, and the room now was quiet. Just me and two other critically wounded Soldiers lay there. It was the first time I had been in the dark since my world went dark for two minutes immediately following the explosion. There was one thing I kept thinking about and still ask myself daily. "Todd had a young wife, a little daughter, and was the most morally and religiously sound person I had ever met. He was mature, knew his path and was in the prime of his life. Myself, I was not married, no kids, still a confused 24 year old trying to wander through a world that I couldn't quite figure out. Why had my life been spared and his life not? Why was an immature little kid like myself still here, and Emma and gorgeous little Kiley left without a husband and a Dad? Why?"
My Mom and I drove down Storrow Drive south and made our way out of the city. The tears had yet to leave her eyes and again she hid behind her sunglasses. I sat there staring out the window and watching people run along the Charles. It was a brisk sunny November day but people were out. My Mom broke the silence, "Its just so sad," she said voice cracking from the tears, "I sat there and I am so thankful you are here, but I know what it could have been. I saw what it could have been in his eyes." We had just finished up lunch in Boston with Glenn Weaver, Todd's older brother. The man was nice enough to bring my Mom a bouquet of flowers just for sacrificing her time to drive me into the city and meet him. I had smiled as I thought of how Todd esk this was. The lunch was selfishly extensively theraputic for me. I had gotten to share stories about Todd with someone who knew him, had gotten to tell his brother about Todd and mines talks about death and the afterlife. Most importantly to Glenn, we had gotten to share some of Todd's beliefs on his steadfast religion.
I felt my eyes water up, "Mom I dont know what im doing anymore. Three weeks ago I was killing people and leading my men, and now im watching people run along the charles, chat about nothing on there cellphones and all the while I cant even drive myself into the city, let alone remember anything for longer than 5 minutes without writing it down. Why am I here?" She sniffled and without hesitation said, "Today, days like today and being able to help people like Glenn is why you are still here," a smile broke over her face and I could tell she was going to say a "Mom" thing, "And besides who would I take care of if you weren't back here."
John 15:13- Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends
I still struggle daily with my path and what it is im "doing". Given that my men are home now, every single one of them safe and sound. Given that my siblings and family are safe and healthy. And given how much I truly respected and Loved 1LT Todd Weaver, if I had to go back, there is only one thing I would change about being in Afghanistan...I wish I could have taken his place. Please dont take this the wrong way, I am not suicidal nor would I ever want to put that pain on my family or friends. Soldiers share an inseparable bond that can not be explained nor deciphered. It is stronger than any bond in the world and the only reason my family supersedes that is, well, they were all Soldiers. And I am sure Todd is smiling down on me saying the same thing or thinking, "Yeah, but I took your place first brother."
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