From Plastic Army Men to Serving in Iraq- A True Story of a Soldier's Binoculars

My journey began with my creation at a big factory. After I was built, I was shipped off to a warehouse, and from there, I was sent to the store, where I was displayed on a shelf waiting to be sold. One day I was purchased by a man, you, with a certain special someone in mind. I was wrapped with love by a woman and then sent to Oregon, where I was placed under a tree, waiting to see where I would end up next. 

On Christmas day, I was awakened by a bright light as the wrapping paper concealing me was violently torn away from my outer packaging. I then found myself lense to face with a very excited boy of about 10 years old or so as he hurriedly and excitedly cut me free from my plastic packaging and began to play with me. 

My intended purpose was being fulfilled. From that day forward, I began to be used just as I was designed to be. I now had memories of all the things that I saw, squirrels, little plastic Army men both before and after the BB gun battles that ensued. I was used to spot dogs being walked, cats trying to use the backyard as a bathroom but failed after I spotted them and called in the big guns, possums lurking around, and all kinds of other things that 10-year-old boys would like to spy out. 

Well, my young owner, whom I grew very attached to, grew up and got older. One day in early September of the year 2003, I was called into action once again when my young owner was called to go to war! I began to wonder what would come of me, where would I go, and what would I see through my lenses? I spent six months spying out targets, enemies, friendlies, and all kinds of other things that young soldiers spy out.

By early March of the year 2004, my training was complete, and I found myself strapped to the body armor of a 19-year-old soldier fighting for his life and the lives of others in the deserts of Iraq. This was it, the real thing, no more plastic enemy soldiers or squirrels. I found myself syping out real-life enemy soldiers who sought to do real harm to my owner. Through my lenses, I saw so much- Iraqi people hustling about in the busy marketplace, farmers working in their fields, children playing soccer, tag, and other games. I was used to find hedgehogs, lizards, wild dogs, and other Iraqi creatures. 

I witnessed combat unfold, found an enemy insurgent attempt to place a bomb in a road, spied an improvised explosive device waiting to be deployed against U.S. troops to include my owner and myself. I swam through canals, baked in the Iraqi sun, and laid in the Iraqi sand. I felt the violent explosions of roadside bombs, heard the sounds of my owner returning fire on his machine gun while shouting to communicate with other soldiers, as well as the laugher of joking soldiers, lightening the mood and making the best of such a dreadful place. 

God graciously brought both my owner, Joel, and me home in one piece, thanks to the prayers of many to include you, Joel's Uncle & Aunt. I am now retired and being returned to you as a gift. You gave me with love to an excited young boy, and now after 15 or so years, I am being returned to you after a lifetime of adventures in the hands of Joel to you. 

I wish to rest on your mantle or desk still covered in dust, dirt, and sand from the dirt of a backyard in Portland, Oregon, or from Iraq, a faraway land. My lenses are still intact just as the day I was made, except for some sand trapped between my glass. My case is a little tattered as well and stained with dirt, sand, canal water, and sweat from the palms of a nervous, young, adventurous, and brave soldier. I now return to you, gifted with love from an ever so thankful nephew of yours. He enjoyed me so much over the years, as I watched him grow from a boy to a man, a real big part of God's grand old plan. 

Now I hope you enjoy me as well, but please, please, please treat me swell by keeping the adventures to a minimum. I thank you for purchasing me on that day. I now know for sure that I was worth what you paid; if you doubt that, just ask your nephew Joel and he will remind you gladly of the joy I brought to him. 

Through all of these years, you're the best uncle and aunt a nephew could ask for. I know that this letter is full of mistakes, misspellings, and other errors, but please do not hold it against me. After all, I am merely a pair of Tasco binoculars, so just the simple fact that I can write makes me pretty talented, and besides, you picked me out after all.

Love Horses Day!

 

"A horse knows what is in your head, responds to what is in our heart, and connects with your soul." - Angie Wells

On Love Horses Day, let's chat about the amazing healing power of horses through equine therapy.

First, what is equine therapy?

It's a form of therapy that is outside the traditional four walls of a doctor's office. Mental health professionals guide clients through a variety of activities with horses including grooming, feeding, and leading a horse to name a few. This can be done as individual, family, or group therapy.

A horse weighing 1,000-2,000 pounds may seem quite intimidating, but rest assured, the practice of including horses in therapy has many benefits and may be just the therapy for you.

It certainly is one of the best for my husband. When everything else is chaotic and seems to be spiraling out of control, an hour or two with his therapist in whom he has built up a wonderful rapport and the horses helps regulate the strong emotions associated with PTSD. Don't get me wrong, it has not been an instant fix or cure-all, but as Winston Churchill said, "there is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man" and I 100% agree!

That rapport I mentioned earlier with the therapist didn't happen overnight, in fact, we've been to a few places until my husband found the right facility and mental health professional for him. Having a third party- a horse- helped to soften the worry and tension with practicing vulnerability with his therapist.

Horses do something called mirroring. By copying the emotions and behaviors of humans, there is a connection that forms between the horse and the client. The horse's behavior then serves as feedback, processing, and growth opportunities for the client. When my husband is stressed or frustrated, his horse exhibits those same emotions. While this can/could be quite challenging, his therapist is there to help facilitate and teach skills such as de-escalation.

At the facility my husband attends, he has one-on-one sessions midweek followed by a group session with other veterans on Fridays. The Heroes for Horses program starts off their morning with feeding and grooming, followed by leading, riding, or another challenging task with their horse. They round out the session with a group "coffee" chat.

What I truly love about the facility my husband attends, is they rescue OTTB (off-track thoroughbred) racehorses and have the veterans work with them to rehabilitate and train them for their "new job" after their racing career. Out Side In explains "Race Horses coming off the track struggle to adjust to a new environment in many of the same ways that Veterans do coming home from war. Through this program, both Veterans and horses help each other heal and find a new purpose in life." It's truly a beautiful thing to witness!

Want to try it out? No horse experience is required! There are many facilities across the nation offering equine therapy, and you may even find one that specializes in helping veterans and their families. Reach out. Ask questions. It may be for you!