The Herald Bulletin

Evening Update

Local News

November 6, 2009

Veteran recalls stress in Iraq



The stress of war can often haunt a soldier beyond the time of military service.

That’s what happened, and is still happening, to Corwin “Cory” Castor, 25, of Anderson.

Born in Anderson, he was raised in Kentucky but moved back for his junior year at Highland High School. He dropped out, got a GED and enlisted in the military, where he was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division out of Fort Campbell, Ky. He served 13 months in Iraq and returned Sept. 14, 2006.

Since then, he’s been a home health aide for the elderly and disabled in Anderson. Hoping to land a career in security work, Castor is taking criminal justice courses at Harrison College’s campus in Anderson.

This fall, he wrote a composition class essay about his most emotional moment in life. His instructor, Julia Williams, thought the essay was compelling, noting, “He has been an amazing student here at Harrison College.”

Here is his essay.



My Time in Iraq

By Cory Castor

I believe one of my most emotional times would have to be while I was in Iraq.

The reason I believe this is because I saw and did a lot of things no one should ever have to go through. For example, I had my truck blown up five times while we were driving down the highway. I have scars from where shrapnel went into my left leg.

I also lost my best friend while I was over there. His name was Nathaniel. He and I were outside smoking and he was shot by a sniper. The bullet went in his collarbone and bounced off the back of his vest and ricocheted around the inside. I was also shot in the chest but luckily my vest stopped the bullet from going all the way through.

About three months later I shot a thirteen year-old child who had a grenade and was walking toward my platoon sergeant, lieutenant, section sergeants, and our interpreter.

After that I broke down, threw my weapon on the ground and cried. That night I was up at 3 a.m. when my sergeant came in and told me I needed to go to sleep because we have a mission at five. I told him “I’m not going.”

I was too distraught about what I had just done. My sergeant and I began to argue about it, so he tried to make me tired by making me carry sandbags up and down the pad which was about a quarter-mile long. After three times I dropped the sandbags and told him, “If you want them moved you do it.”

Well, my sergeant took me down to my first sergeant’s office and I had to talk with him. I was then taken to a mental hospital to get evaluated, and they diagnosed me as being bipolar. After that I became an outcast. Only one person in my company would talk to me the rest of the tour in Iraq. After we got back home I was medically discharged.

Since then I still have nightmares about the kid and I now hate fireworks if I can’t see them being lit. But I am slowly getting through it.

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