On Leave, Soldier Finds Solace in Family and Faith

By HEATHER HADDON

The month of January 2003 began ordinarily enough for John O'Neill and his family, according to his wife Lisette. The couple spent quality time with their two daughters, Stephanie and Rebecca, and the family dog in their cozy Norwood apartment. There was work (John is a plumber and Lisette a paralegal), school and chores. 

But a phone call abruptly ended the comfort of normalcy for the O'Neill family. By mid-January, O'Neill would ship out to the Fort Dix military base in New Jersey for training. On April 11, he boarded a plane to Kuwait. It was the first time Staff Sergeant O'Neill, a 26-year veteran of the National Guard, and a Bronx native, had ever been in the midst of active combat.

"It was scary when we first arrived," said O'Neill, 48, about the beginning of his service in Iraq. With the war still on, the orange haze of explosions frequently illuminated the sky. Supplies and accommodations were minimal, and e-mails to home a rarity. 

"People who go over there now have it better than we did in the beginning," he said.

While on a recent two-week leave at home, O'Neill got a chance to reflect on his experiences in the Middle East. Though conditions are tough, O'Neill is steadfast in his faith that he will return home safely, and that his mission there is just. But O'Neill, one of 123,000 American soldiers in Iraq, knows that U.S. servicemen will be in Iraq for the foreseeable future.

"We're going to be there for a long time," he said in his typically straightforward manner. His brother, who is an Army reservist, nodded in agreement.

Scattered among the rows of family portraits and the modest furnishings in the apartment the family has lived in for the past 16 years are emblems of O'Neill's service. A camouflage jacket hangs on the living room doorknob, and above it is a bright poster reading: "Welcome Home Daddy!" Three albums of photographs that O'Neill took abroad are the sole objects on the living room table.

He flips knowingly through them while Rebecca, 8, looks on. The pictures show endless stretches of sand, the heavy-duty trucks he drives, and tents. Rebecca points to a photo with her father lying on a cot. "A cot is like a trampoline, but a bed," she said, giggling. 

There are also photos of Robin Williams when he visited the soldiers, and O'Neill loaded down by his 60 pounds of gear. But most of the shots are of sandy jeeps, which O'Neill drives for his transportation company. 

His unit is responsible for bringing trucks and other transportation vehicles to troops in northern Iraq. The convoy drives for up to 10 days, writing the name of every stopping point on the windshield. "We take up to eight trucks at a time, unload, and then drive back," he said. 

The work is dangerous, as O'Neill's photo of a bullet-strewn jeep demonstrates. "You can't stop, or otherwise you will get attacked," he said. While they do get shot at, rocks are the most common ammunition. 

O'Neill said they sometimes throw food back food to the children. "They suffer so," he said, explaining that many of the children are barefoot and frail-looking. "It makes me think about my kids back home."

O'Neill calls home once or twice a week, though it seems more like "once in a blue moon," as Rebecca said. He does it to reassure his family, but also to keep his spirits up. O'Neill's role as staff sergeant (overseeing 19 troops) necessitates a clear head.

"[The staff sergeant] is called the backbone of the Army," said Daniel Oliver, O'Neill's brother. In additional to managerial duties, staff sergeants double as counselors. "I'm like their father," said O'Neill about his troops, some of whom are as young as 19.  "With all this pressure on these young kids, some of them can crack."

O'Neill shows few signs of emotional fatigue. Thanksgiving was tough, but when struck by loneliness, he keeps thoughts of family and his faith in God near to him. 

His two weeks back in Norwood rejuvenated those connections. The O'Neills rang in 2004 at home with the simple joy of being reunited. "We appreciate each other so much more now," Lisette O'Neill said. 

They also appreciate the warmth of their church community, emphasized during a special ceremony and prayer service at St. Ann's Church on Bainbridge Avenue. At the Jan. 11 Mass, "I told John how happy we were to see him," said Monsignor Robert Trainor, the Norwood church's pastor. With his family in the first pew, O'Neill gave a short speech about his experiences in Iraq. "He didn't speak of all the risks, but we know from TV that there is a tremendous danger over there," Trainor said.

Lisette O'Neill gets a lot of support from St. Ann's, where her daughters go to school, and the Olivers visit her most weekends. She also attends monthly meetings for military families at the Kingsbridge Armory. Over coffee, family members exchange what little news they've heard from the field. "We cry and let our emotions out," she said.

There were plenty of tears when O'Neill shipped off again on Jan. 15 -- marking a full year of absence. "The dog even got arthritis when he left," Lisette O'Neill said. Her husband could return in April, but military schedules are always subject to change. 

While the wait is hard for his family, O'Neill says he hopes to help the Iraqi people have the same freedoms as Americans. He doesn't give much credence to domestic criticism of the war, and, as far as Iraqi backlash, he's learned to live with it. 

"Some people accept us, and some don't," he said. "It bothers us, but you start accepting it as reality."

When confronted with such difficulties or even sand in his tent or hot drinking water, O'Neill remembers the bigger picture. "In the end, I'm proud that I was a part of history," he said. "It's something my children and my grandchildren will know I participated in."

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