The Beginning and The End

Well, this story isn't as dramatic as all that, but as of yesterday I can say I have completed the US Route 20 from the West to the East.

In the West the highway begins in the city of Newport, Oregon. Newport is an historic city with interests for all ages.








We started our journey "down" the hill in the Deco District". This is Newport's downtown area and contains many  Art Deco buildings; the historic Bayfront which is a working fishing port and home to several local business.

We especially enjoyed our stroll out on a couple of piers.  From several blocks away we could hear this "bealering" noise and followed the sound to one particular pier just loaded with sea lions waiting for "their daily catch" from the recently docked fishing boats.

There are several shopping districts in the area, but I only visited this area because I was anxious to begin my journey.  But, not without a quick stop at The Yaquina Head Lighthouse.  Newport's population is fairly small, about 10,000 residents.  So now you know what I am looking at in my rear view mirror.

The end of US 20 ended in Kenmore Square, actually it ended right in the middle of a street in downtown Boston.  If your not paying attention you might miss that 12" X 12" steel sign attached to a pole.  One thing I have learn for sure going around the block to get a second photo doesn't always work.

I have always been told it's important what happens BETWEEN the beginning and the end so check back once in awhile and you will be able to travel with us along this US 20 route across America.

So now that this adventure is marked off my bucket list it's time to head North to Canada.



G/B


las

Leaving Behind Year 2015

We will soon be ringing in the New Year of 2016 and as I look over my shoulder in retrospect I see a whole year that I feel that I have wasted.

Many people have accomplished some outstanding goals this past year but, I personally have been in a funk......  I just thought since the New Year was approaching that I should stand up tall, well, as tall as a 9 inch bear can stand and carry on!

I, Gear Bear had an interesting Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter.....My first adventure was when my dear friend Ms Donna decided that we were all going to head to Florida to visit Charlene.  Now do I know Charlene?  Nope but, have heard about her for years and felt that I probably know about most of her shenanigans as well as I do Ms. Donna's.  You see Ms Donna and Paula have been good friends since they were teenagers so that meant they have had plenty of time to pull their "capers" and I am not even going to go into that part of my story, at least not now.

So April 19th Paula, Donna, Sue and myself met at the Rockford Airport. We had plenty of time to get through security, have something to drink and then it happened......plane delay! No problem we had a non stop flight so we didn't have to worry about missing a connecting flight.  So within an hour or so we were in the air heading to the sun and surf of New Smyrna Beach FL.

I rather sensed that Ms Donna didn't travel by air very often.  She had her "panic look" all over her face during take off not, to mention her Rosary beads in her hands.  I guess it was the Catholic upbringing that made her resort to praying.  She was sitting across from Paula and I.  Sue was seated in the row in front of me.  Well, that wasn't to bad until I looked over and there she was with a magazine opened on top of her head looking like The Flying Nun.....the poor man in front of her was laughing so hard all we could here was "this was going to be an interesting flight to Florida" they were named the "three sisters" Sister Donna, Sister Sue and Sister Paula!

We landed, picked out our "red" rental car and headed to the Beach to  met up with Charlene at the Condo.  This place was great.  I have never been to a VRBO (vacation rental by owner) before and since Charlene owned the unit it was extra special because she was able to stay with us.  The view was great.  Waking up to the ocean view from our balcony was amazing.  We had a great time sightseeing, renting scoops on the beach, eating and doing more eating, and shopping. On our last day Charlene invited us over to her home and her husband took us all out on the boat and out for lunch and a wonderful boat ride.  Of course it had to start raining but, that didn't dampen our spirits at all. We even seen a few alligators sunning on logs in the little canals leading out to the lake.

We all seemed to have a lot in common and when the girls were reminiscing and looking at high school photos of their classmates it made Paula think of her high schools days and some of the friends that she  haven't heard from or seen since the "good old days."

Our short 5 night visit quickly came to an end and it seemed that on that last day the four of us all went our separate ways.  Paula and I decided the weather was great in Florida so we talked Pat into driving his motorcycle down to New Smyrna Beach and pick us up and continue our adventure south to the Florida Keys.  Sue decided to stay with Charlene and her husband for a few days more and catch a later flight back to Chicago and Ms Donna headed back to Orlando International Airport and had to do the flight home by herself.  I am thinking there wasn't much trouble she could get into by herself!

Florida Keys here we come!  To Be Continued.

Happy New Year to all of my Facebook Friends and Family and for those who read my Blog.  Thank you so much for taking the time, and I hope you enjoy them....

Sincerely,

Gear Bear

With Heavy Heart Our Adventures Continue

As many of you remember I had returned from my tour of duty or at least back to my home State of Illinois September 11, 2014.   Actually, I returned back to Rockford twice on my return home.

This story I am about to share with you  has been a long time in the making.  It took me over a year to figure out how to be able to put in words what I need to tell you.



You ask, how was that so?.  ..Well,  so the story begins.  





I had a wonderful homecoming in Ft Bliss, El Paso TX.  My new temporary family was waiting at the airport and all of the banners, flags, music and tears were so overwhelming.

After being checked in and getting discharged from the US Army I was free a Bear.  I was so  much more mature, beefer and ready to take on the world, with my new and improved attitude!

I will now wait for my next ride, home, back to Paula and Pat and all the kiddies AND the state of Illinois. Ms Nora, after a few days, was ready to head back to Illinois and resume her everyday routine till her next new adventure!

Here we go....all packed and ready to shove off......but, wait, where is she putting me?    Oh NO!   She has put me in the checked luggage.  I just know something bad is going to happen, it always does....I hate being shoved in with all the unmentionables, the books, souvenirs, and clothes. OK,  so I'll stop already, I am going home and that is all that counts, right?

The return flight wasn't that bad, I was warm and able to get some shut eye in the 3 plus hour flight home.

You see, I had already been in Rockford earlier that week on my return flight back from Afghanistan.  It was amazing so many people, Soldiers and Veterans would show up at the Rockford International Airport to welcome us home, in the middle of the night.  We were only there for a short refueling stop but, it was overwhelming......I was home...but, I hitched up my big boy panties (in other words my skivvies) and reboarded that big old plane to return back to base and reported back to Ft Bliss,

So we landed in the big city of Chicago, the luggage was gathered and off we go to catch the next bus back to Rockford.  It was a rather bumpy ride thru the airport.  One can only imagine being in a suitcase and wheeling over concert, bumps, curbs and the absolute worse is the people movers, they   rumble, in my opinion, like an escalator all stretch out, like a bunch of rumble strips all across the airport.  Just imagine that the next time you travel somewhere that has that convenience.

So there we were waiting at the bus depot.  I was OK. I was warm, among all of the souvenirs and clothes.  My last leg of this adventure!

Remember when I said something bad would happen because I wasn't riding up top with the rest of the passengers?

First stop. Clock Tower Inn.   Several passengers disembarked from their hour long trip from O'Hare Airport but, it seemed that when we gave our luggage to the bus driver it was stored in the compartment with passengers getting off at the first stop Clock Tower and not the Bus Station on Walton Ave.   Well, that doesn't seem to earth shaking.....the bus driver took it off the bus and I am sure the bus driver will put it back on the bus!  Well, it didn't happen that way at all.  Nope, someone else snagged that suitcase, the one with the gigantic, ugly, crocheted bow on it....now how could that be mistaken for someone else's luggage?  I didn't have much recognition as to what was happening since I was stuck inside the suitcase and assuming that I was going home with Ms Nora....all is well,  I guess you have figured out by now, that I was stolen.......

When Ms Nora arrived at the Bus Station on Walton Dr and went to retrieve her luggage it wasn't there.  It took her a few minutes to try and figure out what had happen and when she did she reported the incident  to the ticket agent and filed a police report.  The Bus stationed refused to believe that something like this could happen.  WELL, it did.....When Ms Nora called Paula the next day to tell her about what had happen she was devastated, not to mention the guys that he was deployed with. He travelled all the way to Afghanistan and back and here he gets back within 25 miles of home and goes missing.

When Paula heard the news she was overwhelmed with sadness.....but, she was glad that she only intrusted her friend to a "double" she did not send the original Gear Bear just for this reason, of him getting lost.  Our lost Bear goes by the name of Louie Bear.  He is from the same Gear Bear Family.

We have felt very reluctant to continue our Blog because, we did not want to mislead you and we felt that we needed to be truthful and share this story of'  "Louie Bear's  return home.  We have searched everywhere for this little guy, the area surrounding the Bus Stop and at Clock Tower,the parks, Goodwills, garage sales.....and even trash cans.  We are so hoping that he will show up again.  He's not valuable but, he is important to our family and if anyone knows or has seen this little 9" Stuffed Bear hopefully still dressed in Army Fatigues please let us know.

So the adventures and stories will continue, but, with a heavy heart, and in hopes that we will find our little stolen Army Bear.




Sincerely Yours,




Gear Bear

Hero's Welcome for the 2nd Battalion 5th Infantry

The last ten days in Afghanistan were miserable, our replacement unit took over operations so we had nothing to do but wait. Our flight schedule changed about seven times and each change pissed me off because they were never in our favor.

We left the country in a completely packed C-17 and to make matters worse we were in full kit. Wearing body armor and a helmet on an airplane did not make any sense to me but, then again a lot of stuff in the Army does not make sense to me. By the time we loaded the airplane I was starving and I had to pee but I did not care, I was going home. Over the past nine months I've grown accustomed to being miserable.

The first leg of our journey home brought us to Eastern Europe. Romanian was a welcome sight. The air was cool and everything was green. I loved it! There were plenty of local women working on the base and they were a welcome sight as well! We stayed in the land of Dracula and gypsies for about two days and then we were off again but this time we‘re on a civilian aircraft. Gunny and I did not get to ride in first class but we were in the front of the aircraft. Our flight attendant was good looking and smelled great! I was trying my hardest to flirt with her but so was everyone else on the plane.

The second leg of our journey home was better than the first, we stopped in Ireland. The stop only lasted about four hours and we never left the airport but our battalion commander had a great surprise for us. It was about 0200 in the morning and the small airport we stopped was completely empty. An old Irish man in uniform met us at the terminal and an escorted us to a duty free shop and a bar that they opened up just for us. The bar was the surprise. Our battalion commander said that each person was allowed to drink two beers. Now this might not mean anything to my readers but in the Army it meant the world to the men. Believe it or not the Army is pretty gay when it comes treating us like men and alcohol is one of those these that they generally frown upon. Of course it was not allowed in Afghanistan, they had it for sale in Romanian but it was against the rules for us to drink it. So, it came as a surprise to everyone when our great leader allowed each of us to buy two drinks a piece. There I was sitting at a bar in Ireland with two ice cold pints of Guinness in front of me. For the first time in nine months I felt like a free bear again.

Believe it or not the third leg of the trip we stopped in Rockford, Illinois. I was practically home, there were several Vietnam Vets at the airport to greet us, and they had coffee and snacks for us. I really enjoyed talking to the old vets and they seemed really happy to be welcoming us home. An old Marine in a wheel chair told me about his trip back from the war, he said that there was no welcome home party for him. He had sadness in his eyes but I could tell he was happy to give us something that he didn't get. I believe that they were just as grateful to talk to us as we were to talk to them. In a way I think our return trip from war helped them heel in a way. We had a connection with those old vets that is hard for me to explain in words.

From Rockford we flew to El Paso. Home at last! There were many people there to greet us but before we were released to our families there were a few things we had to take care of. First we waited in a long line to turn in our weapons and then we had a couple of briefs to sit through once the briefs were complete our battalion commander told us we had one more thing to do before we could go home. There was someone there that wanted to talk to us, before the person was even introduced I knew who he was, he looked just like our Sergeant Major that was killed in action. It was our Sergeant Major's brother. My mood went from being extremely excited to sad. Not all of us made it home. The Sergeant Major's brother welcomed us home and thanked us. A lot of the guys shook his hand and gave him a hug but I could not bring myself to do it, he looked too much like our fallen brother, too much reality for me. I should have been happy to be home, I should have been happy to see my family but instead I was thinking about the Sergeant Major and I felt depressed.

It will take time to adjust to the civilian life again and I am hoping as soon as I see my friends and family that things will to return back to some type of normal.

Now that my time in the US Army is over I will return back to Rockford Illinois and back to my friends and my family.  Having this time and the experience with these awesome soldiers over the past 9 months will be something that will be a lifelong memory.

Thank you again 2^nd Battalion 5^th Infantry for “having my back”

G/B

 Pvt. 1^st class and ½

The Big War continued......Larry's story

When I left my home
And my family,
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers…

(Simon and Garfunkel)

The Big War continued… Larry’s story.

Gear Bear, your first deployment.... turns you into a man. Any additional deployments start to chip away at you.

I returned from Afghanistan at 0200 in the morning my family was there to pick me up. On the way back to my house I rode in the back seat, the same seat that I sat in while conducting patrols in Afghanistan for the past 10 months, the difference is that I was in a car now and not an armored military vehicle. It was a strange feeling. I was not worried about hitting an improvised explosive device. It felt weird and wonderful not to have my rifle. The vehicles we passed on the road were no longer a threat to me but, I was still anxious. My family seemed the same to me but, I was different. I had darkness inside me; I did not feel like I belonged back in the real world. While in Afghanistan all I ever did was think about going home but my first few months home I missed being in Afghanistan.

The last three months of my deployment was the beginning of the fighting season and they were the worst. I was located at a small outpost no more than 300 meters in length and width. The building we lived in was a former village school house made out of concrete. Every single day for three months straight we were attacked, small arms fire, mortars, and rockets. The best days we only took one or two mortar/rockets. The worst days we took up to 18.  Our only warning of a rocket or mortar attack was a small radar that made a beeping noise when we were about to take incoming. It was usually a 10 second warning. If you were located in the Command Post during the attacks we would all count down from 10 take a knee and cover our ears. All one could do was pray and hope that the rocket or mortar did not hit our building. Boom!!!! That is the sound you would hear when you got down to the number one. Sometimes the building would vibrate and just would kick up if the rounds hit close enough. Most of the time the rounds would miss but every now and then someone would be hit. If you were hit by 107mm rocket death usually followed, shrapnel from a mortar round was preferred.

The sound of incoming is a sound that I cannot seem to get out of my head. At home while sleeping usually the initial stage of falling asleep I would hear the sound and wake up. I am startled for about five seconds and then realize that my wife and daughters are still sleeping; the sound I heard was not real.  The last month of my deployment a young soldier’s vehicle was hit by a rocket propelled grenade. He was brought into the aid station which was situated in the room right next to our Command Post. This young man was screaming uncontrollably. At first the screaming did not really have an effect on us but after a while everyone in that building was affected. The screaming only got worse. It is impossible for me to explain to you the feeling in that building. Everyone was silent; all that could be heard was the his screaming. At this stage in the deployment we all experienced death. We all lost someone close to us. We all saw dead bodies either friendly or enemy but in this case it was different. This person had a wound to his face and was very much alive. It took about an hour and a half for the medevac bird to land at our location. For an hour and a half we had to listen to this man scream in agony. The sounds coming out of the aid station made me sick to my stomach. I wanted the doctor to give him something to put him to sleep; his screaming was tearing me apart inside. No one really talked during that time we all just stayed quiet and listened. About eight months later I learned that this kid died of complications from his wound in a military hospital somewhere in America. To this day I hear that young kid screaming, it is another sound that I will probably be carrying with me for the rest of my life.

Gear Bear when you get home there is really no reason to try to explain to people what war is like. You will be asked many questions. Most of the questions will seem stupid to you. How was Afghanistan? What was it like? Did you kill anyone? People that have not experienced war will never understand. My advice to you is to stay quiet or give them simple answers. You will probably have issues sleeping when you first get back. I know that alcohol is bad and only makes matters worse but there is nothing like 12 cans of beer to clear your mind and make you fall asleep without hearing imaginary explosions or the sounds of a person screaming.

Crowds of people also bothered me my first few months back. Try explaining this to a civilian and they will think you are crazy. For a long time I felt extremely uncomfortable around large groups of strangers. I remember going to a public Christmas tree lighting with my family. There were people everywhere, my heart started beating really fast and instantly I wanted to leave. I was having a panic attack and I had no idea why. My kids really wanted to be there but I felt that if I did not leave I was going to faint. At restaurants you will want to sit in a corner with your back to the wall, in church you will want to sit in the back close to the exit. You will not feel safe in crowds. Although, it was probably a false sense of security but, I always felt safer having loaded weapons around me. Having a loaded weapon near me made me feel that I still had some control if something bad were to happen to me or my family. For 10 straight months everywhere I went I carried a rifle. I ate with the rifle, slept with the rifle, and had it next to me while I showered. But the second our plane landed in America they took my rifle away from me.

While receiving indirect fire scares you it is also an extreme adrenaline rush. It is a rush that you will never experience in the real world. Your first few months back will seem uninteresting to you. You will seek excitement that does not exist. Although, I’ve never been suicidal there were a few times that I was driving to work in the morning and thought about running my vehicle off the highway at a high speed. I never went through with it but the thought occurred to me several times during those first few months back. I was not looking to die or anything, I can’t explain the feeling to you but I am afraid that in the near future you might experience these same feelings.

The death of my friends did not really move me at the time. At times I was glad that it was not me. There were other times that I wished it was me. But while I was there I did not really grieve for them. I tried not to think about it and I believe everyone around me had the same feelings. Joking was our way of coping at the time. Every day I thought I was going to die so the only way I could deal with it was to make jokes about dying. Everyone made jokes about dying, I believe most of us felt that we would die or could die at any time. My grieving process began when I arrived back home and to this day I still grieve for them. I recall the last time I saw them alive, our last conversations. I think about their families and to this day it is hard to believe that they are dead. I once had to carry a friend’s body on a stretcher draped in an American flag and load him on a helicopter 200 meters from where he was killed. Two people died that day. I only knew one of them. I was picked to carry the stretcher because the person killed was in my unit. I did not want this job. The other soldiers carrying the stretcher were crying. I did not cry that day my mind was somewhere else. There were about 100 soldiers there. They formed two columns and we carried the body between them to the door of the helicopter as we passed them every one saluted. It did not seem real to me at the time, it felt like I was in a movie. The feeling was surreal.

We all deal with death in different ways Gear Bear. You are young and motivated and you love firing mortars. Yes, killing the enemy is justified. However, there are people back home that will never understand this. They will tell you why war is bad and explain to you that the current war is unjust. They will tell you that we had no business being there. They will blame the past or current president and tell you that you are nothing but a pawn to big business. They will never understand that we do not care about the politics of war. There will be others that thank you, they will tell you that you are a hero; they will tell you that they owe their freedom to you. They will introduce you to people and tell them that you are a war hero or that you just came back from Afghanistan. These people are just as confused as the others and understand nothing about combat. To me these people are worse. I hate to hear the words thank you, I despise the handshakes. When you go to an airport or some other public places you will see people handing out yellow ribbons that say support the troops, there are groups of people that make blankets for wounded warriors and will ask you for a donation or ask you to write a card so they can use your words on their blankets. These people might have good intentions but you will want nothing to do with them. Like the others they do not understand.

Upon your return home Gear Bear in a lot of ways you will be alone. The only people that you can truly talk to about your experiences are other veterans. Your family will never understand. The Army will offer you counseling but the closest thing to war these doctors have seen came from a book; they will not understand you but will insist that they can help you.  Although, killing in your situation was just there will come a time when those deaths affect you as well. You and I both know that we fought for each other not for our neighbor’s freedom. We had to kill the enemy or he would have surly killed us. Our enemy understands this and we understand this but the average person never will.

You came to us a boy Gear Bear. You are leaving us a man. In a few short weeks we will be back home. In the future when you come across a group of young military men you can tell them all about your own Big War. You see Gear Bear no matter what war you were in or what part of history the war took place your short time in Afghanistan will always be The Big War in your eyes. 

I had to ponder very long and hard in wondering if I should print Larry's story or not but, it's real and this is what these men and women are going through while serving our country, as they will,  I am sure, in their civilian lives as well.    

Yes, I am but, a 9 inch stuffed bear that I hope has brought a smile to these soldiers once in awhile and maybe took their minds off the terrible surroundings and death that they have lived with the past months.

I may be able to have one more post before I ship home if not Thank you for taking the time to read our blogs.  We have had over 35,000 views on our Gear Bears Deployment Blog.

If you have enjoyed reading about Gear Bear and his military experience please read his 1st book

Gear Bear Adventures by L.A.Symons  You can also  purchase the book at Barnes & Noble, The Book World, Amazon.com or our web page (which we will be sure and autograph for you, bear paw and all!)

The proceeds from the book sales are donated to St Jude's Children's Hospital.

g/b

www.gearbearadventures.com

Photos from Afghanistan

My buddies and I have been pretty busy as you will see.  All the photos are pretty much self explanatory.

Please let me know if you have enjoyed them.  Gunny went through a lot of work helping me put this one together!

Gear Bear

RIP CSM

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”
-Ernest Hemingway. A Farewell to Arms

Larry told me that I finally got a taste of The Big War. I have asked Larry questions about The Big War several times over the past few months. Larry refers to their last deployment to Afghanistan as The Big War. 

Getting shot at is a feeling that is difficult to explain, shooting back is a different feeling all together. I finally earned my Combat Infantry Badge (CIB). I was the last member of the platoon to earn this badge. On the second day of our mission we got word that one of our own was wounded. The person wounded was by far the best Solider in our unit. It came as a shock to me because just four hours prior to the incident I had a conversation with him. 26 years in the military is what this man gave to his country. Five years of that were in the Marine Corps and the next 20 were with an Army Ranger Regiment. There are numerous stories that have been posted on the internet about this man over the past week

 He deployed to combat locations worldwide several times over his career, participated in several of our country’s most sensitive missions. He also played an instrumental role in the rescue of Jessica Lynch. We did not know any of this information about the man until we read about it on the news.

 If I had only one word to use to describe this warrior that word would be humble. A few days after the incident we got word that our brother in arms passed away. I don’t care what you think of war, I do not care about the politics of war. This man was a true hero, a warrior that cared deeply for his men and the mission. 

Death comes to us all! Most of us will die as old men, maybe in a nursing home. We might be mourned by a few but shortly after our demise we will be forgotten.

Our brother did not die a meaningless death. He died from wounds he sustained on the battlefield. He died from wounds that he bore from our nation’s longest war. He will never be forgotten. 

The current state of our country depresses me. What was once considered good is now bad what was once considered bad is now good.  Our moral compass is broken. Today’s generation did not deserve this man. Our fallen hero was an old soul and his life was that of a life that could have been taken right out of a novel about our nation’s Greatest Generation. 


                g/b