The mood of the platoon had changed from excited prior to leaving Baharia to downright disheartened when we arrived at Camp Scania. Picking up Alpha Company was supposed to be the beginning of the end. And that end was not supposed to include another one of our brothers hurt or dead. Thankfully, Herman was going to live to see another day, but it was still concerning knowing that he was severely injured.

When we finally arrived, word must have passed to Alpha Company that we had an incident on the way down there. We pulled into the gravel parking lot next to the LAVs from Alpha Company, dismounted, and walked over to where some of the Marines from Alpha were sitting around. In the mix I could see some familiar faces. Sergeant Martin Basso, a friend of mine from Infantry School, and Staff Sergeant Chris Keisler, one of my old platoon sergeants, came over and struck up conversation with a few of us asking what had happened. We rehashed the story, and they both expressed their condolences. I could tell they were both genuinely concerned for us as well as themselves. I’m sure the last thing they wanted to hear on their first day in country was that a fellow Marine was severely wounded. It’s not exactly the best welcoming present.

After a few minutes of sitting around, we got word that we would be grabbing some chow before heading out. We all headed to the chow hall, grabbed some pretty decent food, and made our way to the long tables. I sought out Basso and sat down next to him. Sprenger and Klinger accompanied me and sat on either side of the table. Eventually, Staff Sergeant Keisler made his way over to our location and sat beside Basso. For the next half hour or so, we began to retell some of our experiences in Fallujah and answer as many questions as they had for us. We also asked them questions about any gossip they heard and how things were back home.

The chow hall began to fill up with a lot of Marines from other units, and it became apparent people were waiting on us to get up, so after devouring what was left on our trays, we stood up and headed back toward the vehicles. When we got back to where we had parked, we found out that we wouldn’t be heading out for a few more hours because they wanted to complete this leg of the road march at night so as to reduce the possibility of getting hit by an IED. Since I was a bit tired from the ride down, I had a smoke, lay down on the ground next to my vehicle, and used my helmet as a headrest so I could catch a few zees.

A couple of hours passed by, and nightfall came. All the Marines began to wrap up what they were doing and started putting their gear on and mounting up into the vehicles. Lieutenant May, Lieutenant Snipes, and the officers from Alpha Company, along with the platoon sergeants, were gathered around in a circle going over the route back to Baharia one more time. They wanted to ensure no one got lost. After a few minutes of discussion, Lieutenant May, Lieutenant Snipes, and Sergeant Madden headed back to our vehicles and instructed everyone to get ready to move out. Once they were aboard their LAVs, they rogered up over the communications channel, and the engines roared to life. A couple minutes passed, and the road march back began.

The trip back to Baharia seemed to go by a bit quicker. It was probably due to the fact we were going a bit faster than when we headed down. And it also helped that there were no incidents on the way back. We pulled into Baharia shortly after dawn, and I was dead tired, as was pretty much everyone else. Thankfully, rather than have everyone gather to do a debrief, the officers dismissed us and told us to get some sleep. I immediately headed back to the hooch and passed out.

It was coming up on noon when I finally awoke from my nap. Some of the other guys from the platoon were already up, and word was spreading that there was going to be a company formation after lunch. I quickly threw on my clothes, grabbed Klinger and Sprenger, and headed over to the chow hall to get a bite to eat before formation.

After lunch, we headed back to our company area and saw some Marines already getting into formation. As everyone else started trickling back from chow, the formation grew bigger and bigger. Across from us, Alpha Company was also getting into formation. It took about twenty minutes or so before all the Marines from both companies were in formation.

One thing that stood out the most was the difference between the two companies. At this point, our company had been through hell and back. We had been mortared almost daily; had been in constant contact with IEDs and firefights; had slept roughly four to six hours a day; had shit, showered, and shaved when we could; had eaten when there was time; and had lost some good friends along the way. We had done and experienced all of this together, and because of that, we had become a close-knit family. Sure, there was still order and discipline among the ranks, but it came not out of fear or structure but instead out of respect, admiration, and camaraderie. We were what they called one salty group of Marines.

Opposite us stood a company that resembled what we had been six months prior: clean cammies, rigid bodies, perfectly maintained vehicles and weapons, and spotless gear. Captain Shepard emerged from the command center and began to address the two companies. As he spoke, mortars could be heard hitting just outside the walls of Baharia. A volley of artillery shells was then fired in return from Camp Fallujah. The thunderous booms from both could be heard in the distance. We had grown so accustomed to the noise that hardly any of us so much as flinched. On the other hand, quite a few Marines from Alpha flinched or made moves that looked as if they were ready to take cover in the bunkers. Nearly all of us gave a good chuckle at the situation, and I even saw Captain Shepard crack a grin. Soon enough, our fellow Marines from Alpha would be as familiar with the sounds as we were.

Captain Shepard informed us that Alpha Company would be taking over our operations. Over the next few days, we would be teaming up with our Alpha Company counterparts and conducting patrols with them to give them an idea of what we did on a daily basis. We’d also go over lessons learned and other information we had gathered from the field. This was very similar to what had occurred when we first came to Baharia six months ago and did a left seat, right seat with the Army. In addition, we’d be readying our vehicles and gear for a trip back to Kuwait and, eventually, the United States.

Over the next few days prior to our departure to Kuwait, we began to conduct patrols with our counterparts from Alpha. It just so happened that Staff Sergeant Keisler and Sergeant Basso’s platoon was being teamed up with us. Two vehicles from our platoon, typically Lieutenant May’s vehicle and my vehicle, would accompany Staff Sergeant Keisler’s vehicle and his platoon commander's vehicle on patrols in and around our area of operations. On these patrols, we would point out previous firefights, typical IED placements, and other information we thought would be useful to them as they began doing patrols. I found myself giving Basso pointers on how to protect himself and his scout team while standing up in the scout hatches as well as how to conduct foot patrols when they had to dismount.

When we weren’t conducting patrols, we were packing up our stuff to take home. I packed all of my gear that I wouldn’t need for the road march down to Kuwait. I also packed some other things I had acquired along the way—mementos, pictures, DVDs, and stuff like that. The things that I couldn’t bring with me, I tried to sell to the Marines from Alpha. In fact, nearly everyone else in our company was doing the same thing. It seemed to be a time-honored tradition. The resident company would sell items to the incoming company, things like mattress pads for the cots, small refrigerators, games, etc. Refrigerators were actually one of the hottest commodities going, and I happened to be one of the few to own one. I ended up selling mine to Basso for seventy-five dollars, which was about half of what I bought it for when I got it from the PX. Many of the other guys ended up selling a lot of their stuff as well, so their load going home was lighter. It was like one giant yard sale.

The last day of our stay in Camp Baharia was, in a way, emotional. Baharia was a place that we had come to know as home. So many memories, both good and bad, had occurred at or around the base over the last seven months, and it was hard knowing that we’d leave it behind. We’d be heading home soon and it was great to know we’d be back with family and friends in the States, but Baharia was a place where permanent friendships were forged and memories were made. And most importantly, the friends and fellow Marines who had been lost had their names emblazoned on a memorial that was standing in the middle of camp. That memorial had become a symbol of the hardships our company had endured. To leave it behind was to say good-bye to dear friends.

On our last day, we staged all of our vehicles in one long line and began loading them up with our gear. Some of it we loaded onto the vehicles, and other things that couldn’t fit in the vehicles, such as our sea bags, we loaded onto pallets that would be shipped down to Kuwait and then loaded onto the planes that would take us home. After I finished loading up my gear, I met up with a few of my friends from Alpha and wished them well on their stay. Once I was done making my rounds, I headed back to the vehicles to wait until we were ready to go. I passed time by talking to some of the other guys, playing a little hackey-sack, or just twiddling my thumbs.

When we got the call later on that day to mount up, I knew our time there was over. I grabbed my gear, donned my vest and helmet, slung my rifle over my shoulder, and jumped into the back of my vehicle for one last road march. Eventually, the line of LAVs began to slowly move toward the gates of Baharia like a caterpillar inching its way forward. As I passed the Outlaw memorial dedicated to our fallen brothers, I whispered one last good-bye and wished them eternal peace. That was the last time I looked back.