The oversized “shoulder” jacket: My father’s service in Iraq

6 minute read

One of my first memories of my father was seeing him at the airport, walking toward my mom and I in some form of green and tan clothes. I do not remember much of the exchange, but I remember for years after I would tell everyone my dad was a “shoulder,” something I did not understand but knew was awesome. On Veterans Day, he let me wear his jacket at school to show off to everyone. I would prance around in my dad’s swamping jacket like a princess in techno camo, totally unaware of the associated symbolism. 

September 11, 2001, is a day many current students at Oklahoma Christian University did not personally live through but have still felt the waves of its after effects nonetheless. Fortunately, most feel these effects in minor ripples; taking their shoes off at the airport, watching a video every September 11, or making jokes about FBI agents judging their internet search history. However, some students at Oklahoma Christian, such as myself, have felt these movements more intensely in their lifetimes. 

My father, Mose Henson Richardson, is an Iraq veteran, a theater of conflict directly related to the War on Terror caused by the 2001 attack. Before he joined the army, my father was in his third year of college pursuing a degree in chemical engineering. When a recruiting officer asked him why he wanted to join the Army, he told him to think about it and return in two weeks because he could not understand why he would give that up. On February 1, 1996, my dad enlisted in the Army with the answer that he wanted to “do something different.”

On September 11, 2001 my father spent the evening prior playing video games at a friend’s house. He returned home to see his roommate, an aviation major, sitting in front of the television set. When he asked his roommate what had happened, he replied, “A plane hit the World Trade Center.” 

In the words of my dad, “It was on fire, and then he was talking about how it shouldn’t have happened, it was a big plane. Then we watched the second plane hit.” My father, a reserve soldier at the time, went into his bedroom to start packing. When asked why, he replied, “I pretty much knew we were going to war. I knew it was going to happen.” 

A few minutes later, his roommate called him back into the room and away from packing his bag. The two watched as the World Trade Centers started to collapse. 

In January 2002, my father was deployed to Maryland in an undisclosed security facility to protect an undisclosed security asset and the National Security Agency. He began training to join the Iraq conflict in April 2005. 

The conflict in Iraq was a direct result of the conflict in Afghanistan against al-Qeada, the terrorist organization responsible for the World Trade Center attack. The terrorist organization, led by Osama Bin Laden, set up an offshoot in Iraq after being dismantled in Afghanistan. Further, according to BBC, “the US said Iraq had weapons of mass destruction and was a threat to international peace”. 

Beginning in March of 2003, Operation Iraqi Freedom began with an invasion of Iraq through Kuwait. My dad was trained for six months in New Jersey Fort Detrick. Then, he was deployed in Iraq in this very same operation from October 2005 until September 2006. While in Iraq, my father’s unit’s main job was to gather human intelligence through mobile interrogation units and pick up insurgent members for interrogation. 

When he left, I was only a year old; when he came back, I was 3; in the 18 total months of his deployment, he had missed my 2nd and 3rd birthday. He kept in touch with my mother and I through phone calls and never called less than five times a week. While I was too young to feel the strain this caused until later in life, I know my mother felt it. She once told me a story of having to unplug the TV because it kept constant coverage of various attacks and events. It almost sent her into a nervous breakdown. 

Following his deployment, my dad retired from the military with 16 years under his belt. He became a 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Dad who would drive me to elementary school in his little red car, blasting heavy metal, before heading off to his office job. 

My father being gone for the most important 18 months of my childhood development may seem like it would cause a major rift between us, but it did not. My father is one of my best friends; he is willing to run around the U.S. Alabama battleship in 100-degree weather with me, gives the best dad advice, takes unicorn sheets given to him by my little sister to annual training, details every plane or vehicle he has ever operated for my barrage of questioning and bears with my long rants about various, useless historical facts. 

My father being a soldier in the War on Terror has shaped me. My outlook on everything is informed by the experiences he has detailed to me throughout my life. He told me about the children on the side of the road in Iraq to whom he and his fellow soldiers would hand out candy to. He told me the story of losing one of his best friends to an IED. He told me about the three close encounters he had with IEDs himself and why he believes in God. 

I, like many Oklahoma Christian students and many Oklahomans, have felt 9/11 and its effects for almost my entire life. There are other students on campus who also likely had parents, siblings or friends involved in the War on Terror. On this 9/11, as we remember and memorialize the countless lives lost in the attack on the World Trade Centers, I ask that we give a thought to the thousands of veterans who lost their lives in the ensuing conflict in the Middle East. No matter your opinion on war or conflict, veterans deserve and should be reserved the highest degree of respect for putting their lives on the line and answering the call. 

Thank you for your service as a “shoulder” Dad, I love you.