INTERVIEW WITH DENISE MILLER

Denise's son, Josh George, is a Marine with Bravo Company. He's 21, recently married, and his first baby is due in June. Josh is fighting in Fallujah. Keep him in your thoughts.

Denise: Josh went into Camp Pendleton (Marine boot camp) in September 2003. Three months later he finished his course with Military Police. A day after graduation, his unit was sent to Iraq. Now, he mans the gun on the back of a humvee at the rear of military convoys.

I understand why Josh enlisted. There are no jobs down here (Walnut Ridge, Arkansas) and he really wants to provide for his wife Amanda and their coming child.

He's been in the area around Fallujah for two months and is fighting there now. I didn't hear from Josh for some time after the fighting started so I contacted the Department of Defense Public Affairs Office, the Marine Core Public Affairs Service, even the White House to get information about where and how he is. It was hard to hear he's in Fallujah.

I heard from a woman in Texas, the mother of one of Josh� friends in Iraq that both Josh and her son are in the thick of the fighting. She was very upset, crying over the phone and so on. But, what can you do? They�e over there and we�e over here.

I don� have anyone in my town to talk to about Josh� participation in this war. Folks here are, for the most part, indifferent to what� going on over there. I think there are only three Marines in the whole town. But I listen to the news and pay attention to everything I hear.

When I saw (Mother Speak�) Susan on MSNBC� national television show, I was amazed that a mother could go over to Iraq. I admired her for doing it and I totally understood why she did it. I told Josh over the phone about the trip and he was amazed too. I� sure if I went over there, Josh would be so excited and happy to see me. Of course he� have to play it down in front of his buddies but he� be so proud that I� risk my life to see how he was doing.

It� been hard having him over there.

Losing my son� life to this war effort is just not worth what we�e getting out of it. I see it as George Bush getting his hands on Iraqi oil. They�e not fighting for my freedom or to free Iraqis. But I� getting skilful in recognizing my pain as I grieve for my son whose life is being put at risk for nothing. It� just not worth it.

Josh� letter, received April 12, 2004:

Mom, 
Hey mom, what's up? How are you holding up? I just want you to know I miss you! Sorry I haven't been able to talk much. Don't worry about me like I already know you are. I'll be all right; I'm a big boy. You just take care of yourself. Don't take living in the U.S. for granted because these people have it bad. I couldn't imagine living in a third world country like this. You feel more sorry for the kids than anything because they didn't do anything wrong; they are just here. 

I got some cool pics of one of Saddam� palaces. I think you'll like them. 

How are Jeremy and grandma? Tell them I love them! It's very hard to call home because the phones have been down for about 1 1/2 weeks now.  

I hate it here. I'm tired of being away from Amanda. Mom, it sucks and hurts so bad. Sometimes I ask myself what I did to deserve this but you know God has a reason for everything. Being this far away from Every one makes you learn a lot about who you are. I know joining the Marines changed my life, but I wished I could have done it on my own; that way Amanda wouldn't have to suffer as well. It's just not fair. I feel like she doesn't deserve this at all. I really wish I could be there to see my baby born; you don't know how bad that hurts me. Be sure to take lots of pictures for me. Try not to spoil her too much.  

Mom you know I always was a mommy� boy. I'm so lucky to have a mom like you. You are the best. Well, I need to go. Look forward to getting mail from you, Love ya, Josh

Denise wrote the following letter to her local newspaper in Arkansas:

On any given day, if someone asked you where your child was and what he or she was doing, what would you answer? Doesn� knowing the answer to such a simple question give you a sense of security and warmth? Doesn� it give you peace of mind knowing you can answer that question? As a parent, how would you feel if you were not able to answer it? Would you feel fear? Would you feel helpless? Would an array of terrifying emotions flood you? If your child, like mine, was in a war zone, these questions control your daily thoughts: Where is he? Is he okay? How much danger is he in? Worst of all, is he still alive?

Welcome to my world. My son, Joshua George, is a Marine stationed in Falluja, Iraq. Everyday Josh fights for his life and for the lives of his comrades. For those indifferent to the war over there, a sentence or two can paint a quick picture: MSNBC news reports that Falluja is the most dangerous city in Iraq �maybe the world. At least one Marine has been killed there every day this month. One day up to a dozen young Marines died. Imagine what that place is like for soldiers. My son has been in Iraq for two months. He goes through that every day.

As Josh� mother, I simply don� know, on any given day, how my child is doing: is he safe? Is he hurt? I go from day to day never knowing what is happening to him. I always expect that �nock on my door�and opening it to military personnel about to deliver the worst news a mother can hear: your son is grievously wounded; or, we regret to inform you that your son was killed in action.

The Marine Corp prides itself on being the one military department that �ersonally delivers�bad news about a child. They don� believe in phone calls. I learned from the Department of Defense in Washington D.C. and the Marine Corp Public Affairs in Washington D.C. that I� have my own personalized �earer of bad news.�The Marine Core is obviously proud of this fringe benefit for parents. To be perfectly honest, after speaking with these two offices, that tidbit of information brought me no relief. I was, to say the least, totally speechless. In return, however, I rendered those officials speechless by telling them, plainly, �ust keep your personnel away from my doorstep. Simply return my son, alive and well.�span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> 

I long for the days when Joshua was back home, doing what he does best, continually talking while as he comes in one door and exits the other. You know, it� the little insignificant things that children do that drive a parent crazy that I miss. Now I can� �un up town to find him�or to �all his cell phone.�Those days are long gone and replaced with days and months of constant worry and fear. As Josh never discloses any information regarding his location or his actions, I never know what is going if I don� ask a thousand times. Usually, those answers came from Washington.

I received my first letter from Joshua today. I loved it! He writes:

� couldn� imagine living in a third world country like this. You feel more sorry for the kids than anything because they didn� do anything wrong they are just here.�I read that twice. First, it confirms Joshua� heart is in the right place. Being able to grieve or pity someone else when your life is in constant danger tells me a lot about the son I raised. Second, I wondered exactly what Joshua has seen or has had to do just to survive. I imagine it must be horrible. You can let your imagination answer that. 

The purpose of this letter is to get the word out about what is going on in Iraq and for all of us to pray for Joshua and the Americans over there fighting. Our soldiers and Marines are stuck in a foreign country, trying to help, and clearly and truly not wanted there.

Please add my son and all the other soldiers to your prayers. Don� take your lives for granted; there is always someone � especially American soldiers -- who would gladly trade places with you.

Thank you for your prayers,
Denise Miller