Transcriber: Angélica Zetina González Reviewer: Elisabeth Buffard
Soldier, attention!
Sargent! What makes the green grass grow?
BLOOD, BLOOD, RED BRIGHT BLOOD!
What's the spirit of the warrior?
KILL, KILL, KILL WITHOUT MERCY!
What are the two types of people in this world?
THE QUICK AND THE DEAD!
What are you?
THE QUICK!
What are they?
THE DEAD!
Sargent, let me hear your war cry!
AAAAAAAAAH!
What you just saw was a small part of the training
I received while I was in the United States Army.
I joined just after September 11th.
They train you to harness a deep inner rage, a hidden rage.
A rage that most people don't even know they have.
In combat, that rage can keep you alive.
But at home, that rage can kill you.
Let me back up a second and tell you why I joined the Army.
Most of you can probably remember where you were on September 11th.
I will remember for the rest of my life.
I was working as a forklift operator, just out of high school.
I'm driving around and everyone disappeared.
I don't know where anybody is.
So I head up to the front of the building,
and everybody's around a small 13'' TV.
As I walk up, I watched the second plane hit the Twin Towers.
I knew at that moment that I was gonna join the military.
Before I made it to Iraq, I spent about a year in Central America.
It was beautiful.
This is the upside to the Army. You get to see the world.
I spent about a year bouncing around the jungles
of Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras.
I fell in love with the culture. I got to see and try new things.
I even got to swim in the Atlantic and the Pacific in the same day
without getting on an airplane.
The good times didn't last, though.
In 2004, my unit received orders to deploy to the Middle East
in support of operation "Iraqi Freedom".
We were gonna be stationed in Tikrit, Iraq.
It's Saddam Hussein's hometown, right in the heart of the Sunni Triangle.
About halfway through my tour, we received orders to go to Fallujah.
At the time, the insurgents controlled the entire city of Fallujah,
and we were sent in to recapture the city.
I was the third gunner hanging at the top of a 50,
hanging out at the top of a humvee on a .50-cal.
And I was gonna be the eyes and the ears of the convoy.
The drive from Tikrit to Fallujah was only supposed to take about 10 hours
even with the slow military vehicles.
But the enemy had other plans.
On the way down, they started blowing up bridges
and setting up ambushes along the way.
We would redirect our path each time
we'd come into a new contact and after 36 hours, with non-stop combat
no sleep and high stress, your mind starts to play tricks on you.
I started seeing things that aren't there,
start hearing things that aren't there.
You start to lose control of your rage.
At some point, the second night with no sleep,
I must have fell asleep, dozed off, the cool air rocking me to sleep,
'cause I woke to total chaos. Gunfire.
I remember hearing the AK-47 rounds hitting aside the humvee
just inches from my head: "ting, ting, ting, ting".
I woke up, fear washed over me.
I remember the pink glow of our PG
shooting through the air in every direction. Total chaos.
Explosions all around me. I lit up the .50-cal: "thump, thump, thump",
"thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump",
moving from one target to the next.
In the middle of all this chaos, I could hear somebody laughing
and I thought to myself,
"who could be laughing at a time like this?"
And then I realized it was me laughing.
I felt like I was finally losing control of that rage
they taught me to harness.
Come time to leave Iraq, and they asked for volunteers to stay.
They needed somebody to find and neutralize the IEDs
that were killing so many people.
It wasn't a decision that I took lightly,
but if I didn't volunteer, they were gonna pick people.
And I wasn't married, I didn't have kids,
and I didn't want them to pick somebody with a family,
so I volunteered for a second tour.
That second tour, we spent 3 or 4 vehicles to go out everyday.
We'd drive about 10 mph down the road, barely moving.
We'd look at the side of the road, trying to find the IEDs
Improvised Explosive Device,
and we'd wait for the road to blow up on us.
While in Iraq, I lost 7 of my best friends.
Sargent, attention!
Right, face!
Present, halt!
Order, arms!
Left, face!
Forgive me.
My transition home was difficult, to say the least.
I was paranoid, I carried a pistol on me at all times.
I assessed the threat level
of every person or place I came in contact with.
Driving through my family's neighborhood,
I drove in the middle of the street,
and feared the side of the road was gonna blow up and kill me.
On the outside, I looked like every other 21-year-old college student.
I bought the newest clothes, I played beer-pong,
chased girls, rooted for the Buckeyes.
But inside, there was something wrong.
After a few months, my family and friends convinced me
that there's something wrong and I needed some help,
I went to the VA, walk-in mental health clinic,
and I told them, You guys gotta help me. I'm gonna hurt someone.
I don't want to. I carry a pistol to protect myself, but I'm scared.
They gave me a prescription for a sleep aid, and sent me on my way
told me to come back in 6 months. I didn't make it 6 months.
Few months later, I was down with some friends.
We were drinking, we're having a good time.
I'd been drinking every day to deal with my issues.
It's hard to think of yourself as an alcoholic
when you're playing beer pong, but…
you're drinking everyday, you're an alcoholic.
We're out, we're having some drinks and an argument erupted over a girl.
Someone pulled out a knife, and I snapped. I pulled out my pistol.
The prosecutor said I moved through the room in a tactical manner
clearing the room, laid everybody on the ground.
I took the knife from him, and I began beating him.
And I beat him, and I beat him.
A few days later I got arrested for attempted murder
and several other charges. Some I did, some I didn't do.
When I went in for sentencing, my judge told me,
Mr. Chambers, your service is a double-edged sword.
Your time in Iraq makes you a threat to society,
and I have a civil obligation to lock you up.
I received 10 years, and here I am today.
Some of you that are familiar with the TEDx format are probably
waiting on my call to action.
But you just did it.
Find a veteran and listen to his story.
A lot of us just need somebody to talk to.
Sargent, attention!
Sarge, it's ok. You're home now, man.
It's over, you're safe. Welcome home.
At ease.
(Applause)