I deployed to Iraq in 2003 as part of the invasion.

My battalion had been mobilized from the Marine Corps Reserve and deployed as part of the larger effort. We weren't the tip of the spear. We were part of the follow-on forces and reinforcements supporting the main effort.

At the time, 1st Marine Division Reinforced was conducting the invasion under Major General James Mattis.

When people hear "Iraq in 2003," they sometimes imagine every Marine kicking down doors, charging across deserts, or starring in an action movie.

My memories are different. What I remember most are the people, the conditions, and the lessons.

Light Infantry Really Means Light Infantry

One of the biggest lessons I learned was that light infantry really means light infantry. As an 0311 Infantry Rifleman, I already understood the concept.

• —Everything important gets carried.
• —If it's needed badly enough, somebody is carrying it on his back.
• —Mobility comes first.
• —Comfort comes second. Or tenth. Or not at all.

People sometimes assume military units have endless equipment, electricity, and conveniences everywhere they go. That wasn't my experience.

The Schoolhouse

One place we lived was an old schoolhouse. For a few weeks, that schoolhouse became home. There were a couple platoons of us spread throughout the building.

The schoolhouse didn't have windows. The windows had already been looted before we arrived.

• —No windows.
• —No electricity.
• —No plumbing.
• —About 110 degrees during the day.
• —And somehow life continued.

Humans are adaptable. Marines may be even more adaptable.

The Flies

The flies were unbelievable. You've probably seen those charity commercials where a fly crawls across a child's face and the child barely reacts. The fly is simply part of the environment.

That was me. That was us. A fly would land on your face and half the time you barely noticed. Not because you liked it. Because eventually it became normal.

The Seabee Shower

One of the highlights of that period was when the Navy Seabees rigged together a makeshift shower system for us. To this day, I remember thinking it was awesome.

They used NBC decontamination shower equipment and set up sanitary showers inside a GP tent. To someone sitting comfortably at home, that might not sound impressive. To a bunch of dusty Marines living in an abandoned schoolhouse in Iraq, it was magnificent. Absolutely magnificent.

What I Actually Learned

Another thing I learned is that home is a flexible concept. Give Marines a schoolhouse, a tent, a warehouse, or a patch of dirt and eventually they will figure out how to live there.

• —They'll complain about it.
• —They'll joke about it.
• —They'll nickname it.
• —And then they'll make themselves at home.

I also learned that humor survives almost everything. No matter the conditions, Marines find something to laugh about. No electricity — somebody makes a joke. No windows — somebody makes a joke. 110-degree heat — somebody makes a joke. The joke may not be particularly sophisticated. There will definitely be a joke.

Looking back, I don't spend much time thinking about hardship. That's not what stands out to me. What stands out to me are the Marines. The friendships. The conversations. The ridiculous situations. The improvisation. The ability of people to adapt. The gratitude you develop for simple things.

• —A shower.
• —A meal.
• —A place to sleep.
• —A letter from home.

Funny enough, one of the things Iraq taught me was not how much I could endure. It taught me how little I actually needed to be content.

Looking back all these years later, I'm grateful for the experience. I'm grateful for the Marines I served alongside. I'm grateful for the lessons. And I'm especially grateful that I got to be part of a generation of Marines that answered the call when the country needed them.

Even if some of my strongest memories involve flies, a schoolhouse with no windows, and a GP tent shower rigged together by Seabees.