Most would say that a writer’s dream is realized when his or her work is published.
But Ryan Kelly can’t bear to read “Operation Homecoming,” the book where his experiences were captured. The memories are still too raw.
A company commander and UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter pilot, Kelly spent a year in Iraq. The 37-year-old was born in Cheyenne and reared in Littleton and joined the Army in 1992 at the age of 22. But he did not embark on his first deployment to a war zone until 12 years later, last Thanksgiving.
While at war, Kelly wrote numerous letters home to his wife and mother. Two of his letters, as well as short stories, eyewitness accounts, poems and even lyrics written by other soldiers and their family members, appear in “Operation Homecoming,” a literary work created by the National Endowment for the Arts.
Kelly’s letters embody two central themes of the book – the diversity of the troops and the true costs of war, says editor Andrew Carroll.
“I see all these kids playing war-related video games because this war is so distant and remote that it seems like a game,” Carroll says. “Kelly’s letter shows the real people impacted by these conflicts and the physical and emotional sacrifices they endured.”
Kelly was responsible for more than 70 soldiers in his company, the 1-150th General Support Aviation Battalion 42 Infantry Division (Mechanized), New Jersey Army National Guard: the immigrants not born in America but fighting for us anyway; the motocross stunt man who begged to have his motorcycle shipped to the desert; the newly married couple who could only express their love through tender glances and shared water bottles.
All of them came home. It is now one year later.
How beneficial was it for you and your family members to stay in contact through letters?
Any time you receive a letter from someone in an awful or dangerous situation, you appreciate it regardless of what the letter actually says. For me, writing was a way to release some of the stress I had in the war. It kept out the craziness and helped me fight the isolation and fear. I’d write about the things that scared the hell out of me or the most mundane things. I didn’t pull any punches, and I did that for a reason. I wrote about things that were bothering me at the time, and I wanted to convey that to my family. They said they were glad I did because it allowed them to share in that emotion or experience it with me, albeit a little bit.
What was your most harrowing experience?
We would have to send soldiers off to go on these security detail missions escorting convoys to and from Kuwait and back again. (In one of his letters, Kelly describes the missions as “a perilous 600-mile, one-way trip with roadside bombs, RPG attacks, ambushes and small arms fire.”) I would have to be the one who would pick out the team. Who could I potentially lose? Whose job was not essential to me? You go through all these calculations of what happens if they get hit, if you lose them. It’s an awful selecting process. But some of these guys would volunteer, refusing to let anyone else go. That sense of bravery is really inspiring.
What do you think is the proper course of action regarding the war?
I think we need to win the war, but part of our problem is the definition of victory. The president wants to create a free and stable Iraq that can govern itself. My question is, how long is that actually going to take? I do think that having the army and asking soldiers to do two and three tours in a combat zone is asking too much. Should we bring them home immediately? I don’t think we can. We have invested the time and the money and the blood in Iraq, and I want to see it as a free and stable government. But how long will it take and is America ready to pay that cost?
How can we continue to show support for our troops still overseas?
Communication is important regardless of how people feel about the war. Especially when these guys are rolling into their seventh or eighth month over there, they start to question why they are there. I had troops not getting any mail. When groups would contact me asking what they could do to help, I would get them to send care packages to these lonely men and women who needed something to believe they were still doing the right thing.
What were the holidays like in the war zone?
It sucked during the holidays. Hell, I got attacked on Christmas. It was like, hello, Merry Christmas, pal, here’s a couple of rockets landing on your base camp. I found it to be incredibly lonely. It means that you are without your family, without the usual traditions. The chow hall cooks a pretty good turkey, but it’s not your wife’s or your mom’s turkey. You can see on TV and the pictures that seem to show life is just moving on. You are wondering, have they forgotten about me?
What will you do now?
Pick up where the war left off. Before the war, I was a struggling creative writer. I was in Columbia and had just gotten my MFA in playwriting. I am writing again, and I just finished a new play. I’m writing a lot about the war, surprise, surprise, both fiction and what I actually experienced. The hardest thing is what the war means to me personally. I have yet to discover that. I’m getting out of the guard in another six months. But if they called me back, I would go.
Will you ever be able to read “Operation Homecoming?”
I hope so, and soon. The book is really important for me to be a part of. I’m honored. I want to read it and I will read it. The soldiers had something to say, and I want to hear and listen. They are America’s best, and we should be proud of them. Take your hat off when you think of them because they deserve that. There are no better in the world. I love every single one of them. Every single one.
Staff writer Sheba R. Wheeler can be reached at 303-954-1283 or swheeler@denverpost.com.
