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http://www.omniture.com --> Sections Home Page Local News AP News AP Entertainment Archives Business Classifieds Event Calendar Forums Life Opinion Obituaries Photo Gallery Readers Photo Gallery Sports Tempo Weather Special Coverage 2006 Britt Festivals --> Shop Our Valley AutoFinder HomeFinder JobFinder Search Our Valley Special Sections Distinctly Northwest Readers' Choice Homelife Magazine Joy Magazine Holiday Guide Oregon Golf Info Oregon Wine Info Other Publications Local Links Ashland News eSouthernOregon Newspapers In Education Personals Moving Here Movie Listings TV Listings Volunteer Customer Service Advertise With Us Media Kit Place Classified Ad Contact Us FAQ's Home Delivery Site Map --> Email Story to a Friend December 27, 2006 Click for larger view Iraq veteran 1st Lt. Matt Cerekas recalls events that led to his being injured in Ramadi at the beginning of the war. Now on staff at the Veteran Affairs� Southern Oregon Rehabilitation Center and Clinics in White City, Cerekas is helping other veterans as they readjust to society. (Mail Tribune / Roy Musitelli) Alive, and shaken Southern Oregon veteran feels the effects of his Iraq War duty; 'People are dying around you. You just keep going.' About this series The Mail Tribune talks with those whose lives at home are touched by war — spouses who cope while their loved ones are half a world away, soldiers who leave the war behind but not the vivid memories. Today — A former first lieutenant in the Iraq war suffers short-term memory loss but can't shake the long-term memories of battle. Thursday — An operating room technician from the first gulf war says he finally sought help after self-medicating the pain nearly caused his death. By PAUL FATTIG Advertisement WHITE CITY — Come the holiday season, Matt Cerekas feels torn. He counts himself exceedingly fortunate to be with his wife, Kimberly. He nearly bursts with love when he holds Samuel, their bubbling 10-month-old son. He is deeply grateful when he arrives home to them from work each evening. But memories weigh on the Iraq War veteran. "The holidays aren't the same now," Cerekas said. "Your heart goes out to the guys who are still over there. You feel like you should be there. "You hate it, but you miss it," he added. "You feel like you'd swap places with another soldier over there at the drop of a hat so he could be home for the holidays. If I could enable someone to be home with their family for two weeks, I wouldn't hesitate for a nanosecond." The former first lieutenant in the Florida Army National Guard's First Battalion, 124th Infantry, was medically discharged following an ankle injury suffered during an insurgent attack in Iraq. He also has been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. "My memory hasn't been real good since I've been back," said Cerekas, who now works in the recreational therapy department of the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs' Southern Oregon Rehabilitation Center and Clinics in White City. "I have moderate short-term memory issues," explained the former platoon leader in Charlie Company. "Sometimes when I leave work I have to pull over and just sit on the side of the road for a second because I can't remember how to get home. And that's a route I've taken hundreds of times." But he has no problem with long-term memories of the war. Out of the company of 113 soldiers, 45 received Purple Heart medals for wounds suffered in combat, he observed. His unit would gain national attention after Sgt. Camilo Mejia, one of Cerekas' squad leaders, became a cause célèbre when he turned himself in to military authorities in March 2004 after disappearing for five months while home on leave. Mejia sought conscientious objector status and spoke out against the war. For Cerekas, who takes exception to some of Mejia's claims, the issue is not a matter of opposing or supporting the war. Rather, it's one of having been in those boots on the Iraqi ground with fellow soldiers in combat. "It's a surreal feeling," he said. "People are dying around you. It could be your buddy or you. But you just keep going." Cerekas, 39, graduated from Southern Oregon University in 2001, majoring in both criminology and communications. He joined the Oregon Army National Guard while still in college, later transferring in February 2003 to the Florida infantry company because it was being deployed before its Oregon counterpart. "I really wanted to go over there," he recalled. "Infantry guys are like professional athletes. After all the training, you want to be in the game." The game was one he will never forget. Four days after he joined the Florida unit, it was deployed to Jordan to guard Patriot missile sites and provide patrols during the buildup for the Iraq invasion that started March 6, 2003. "Our mind set was, 'We're the National Guard. We're going to guard a Patriot missile site. Then we're coming home,'" he said. But reality proved vastly different. The unit was ordered to Iraq, not stateside. "We considered ourselves the cleanup battalion when we got to Iraq," he said. "Other units, like Ranger battalions and airborne units, would come through an area. We'd get called in to clean up afterwards." It was in Ramadi, a large city on the Euphrates River less than 50 miles upstream from Fallujah, that the company had its toughest assignment. "We could only put 80 guys at best in the field, and not all at one time," he said. "We'd go out on combat patrols but the problem was that it was so crowded in the city with so much foot traffic that you couldn't take a whole platoon out. "We were forced to do our combat patrols with about 14 men in a city of close to a million people — pretty scary stuff," he added. "You didn't know who were the good guys and who were the bad guys out there. And you are getting shot at every single day." Nights weren't much better. He estimates he slept on average an hour during each 24-hour period he was in the field in the Ramadi area. "You learn to accept the fact something bad can happen at any place at any time there — it doesn't matter where you're at or what you're doing," he said. "So you accept that and you sort of relax. When you are on patrol, much of it reverts back to your training. You are alert but in kind of a relaxed alert state." Like many units at the beginning of the war, his company lacked supplies, he said, noting the flack jackets they received were Vietnam War era. They also often lacked basics such as water, he added. "I remember once when we had two bottles of water," he said. "And I had 29 guys on my left and 29 guys on my right. So we survived by taking what we needed. We had to. There was no other way." He recalls combat patrols when they would climb to the top of a tall building in downtown Ramadi, one which gave them a bird's-eye view of the main highway below. "The owner didn't want us up there but I told him if he let us have a key his building would stay intact," he said. The rules of engagement often left diplomacy in the dust, he explained. "I remember being up there looking out at Ramadi and seeing the moon and wondering if it was visible during the daytime back in Oregon," he recalled. "Anytime you go in a quiet spot where you felt safe, your mind immediately went back home. "But you had to be in a safe spot," he added. "When you weren't, you were alert, always alert." The continued stress and lack of sleep had an impact on behavior, he said. For instance, his direct orders were sometimes disobeyed or questioned by some of his subordinates in the platoon. At one point, an enlisted man threatened him with a knife. Cerekas responded by locking and loading his rifle, prompting the enlisted man to stand down. "The officers didn't trust the NCOs (non-commissioned officers) and the NCOs didn't trust the officers," he said. It wasn't unusual for soldiers in his unit to question the war's purpose as well as how it was being waged, he added. When Cerekas returned to the Rogue Valley at the end of 2003, he focused on making the transformation back into civilian life. He married Kimberly, his girlfriend before the war. But there were symptoms of PTSD. He suffered short-term memory lapses. He felt unwarranted anger for things as trivial as someone cutting him off in traffic. Cerekas, who turned to SORCC for counseling, will tell you there are many returning from war in much worse shape. But he observes it goes against the grain of many in the warrior culture of the military to ask for help. "A lot of the guys are too proud," he said. "Or they don't know how to ask for help or who to ask. But it's something they have to initiate if they are going to make their lives better. No one is going to do it for them." Cerekas had planned before the war to make a career in the National Guard. But he figures he is doing the next best thing by helping veterans at SORCC. "A lot of them have gone through something like I have," he said of veterans of past wars. "They look at me as someone they can connect with. "In my own mind, I still get to be a soldier and have that feeling of camaraderie," he added. "And I can get it without being shot at." Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] . Hot line gives vets 24/7 access to someone If you are an Iraq or Afghanistan war veteran having problems settling back into civilian life, call toll-free 1-888-688-2264. That's the number for the Oregon National Guard post-deployment reintegration team, which is on call day or night, including holidays. "That's 24 hours, seven days a week," team director Scott McCrae, a retired Oregon Army National Guard colonel, told the Mail Tribune earlier this year. "The message will be forwarded to one of our team members' cell phones. We are there to help anytime." The need for the reintegration program arose early last year when the Oregon Guard's 2nd Battalion was returning home from Iraq, McCrae said. Maj. Gen. Fred Rees, Oregon's adjutant general, asked McCrae to put the team together. McCrae lost a son in Iraq. The five-member statewide squad is dedicated to helping veterans who served in either theater of war, McCrae said. Although the focus is on returning Guard troops, veterans of other services returning to Oregon also can call the team, he said. There are now some 4,600 Oregon citizen soldiers, including Oregon Army and Air National Guard members, who are veterans of at least one of the two wars, McCrae estimated. The team works closely with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, Oregon Department of Labor, Oregon Department of Employment, Oregon Associated Industries, county veterans offices and veterans groups. The five-member team's Web site is www.orng-vet.org . Click on "soldier reintegration" in the left-hand column. Would you like to respond to this story? If so Click Here to visit our forums. Advertisement Copyright © 1997-2007 Mail Tribune, Inc. All rights reserved. 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