Junior finds family in fellow troops

When the United States declared war on Iraq, a military priest sprinkled holy water on junior Nick Rossano's tank in the Middle East.\n"It was a defining moment," Rossano said. "I thought to myself: 'OK, here we go.' It was pretty nuts. All I had was myself and the guys next to me."\nRossano was not confident about the military equipment, especially his tank, which had been "deadlined" (not combat operational) seven times before it was given to him. When it was time to go to the border between Iraq and Kuwait, the tank's generator died.\n"We ended up driving through Iraq by ourselves," Rossano said. \nRossano, who attended tanker school, coordinated where the tank was going by its Global Positioning System receiver. Since his troop was two days behind the rest of their unit, they made up for lost time by not using roads.\n"We didn't use a direct route, so we had to watch out for tank mines," Rossano said. \nHe lived on the tank with three other Marines, who soon became family. He stayed in the driver's hole and was in charge of menial tasks, such as cleaning the bathrooms and staying on duty at night. A Delta Chi member, the bonds he formed with his tank crew reminded him of his fraternity.\n"I have so much respect for them because we went through a lot together," Rossano said. "We have all these Marine inside jokes -- you do your job like a professional, but you let your guard down sometimes."\nRossano said he felt safe driving the tanks.\n"Everybody loves the tankers," Rossano said. "You feel like a celebrity, like you're in a carnival. People on the streets were happy and our enemy was terrified."\nBut not all the images he saw from his tank were picture-perfect.\n"It was eye-opening and devastating," Rossano said. "Sewage was everywhere, and there were packs of wild dogs. It was a different place."\nAfter Sept. 11, Rossano said he knew he wanted to join the Marines.\n"I wanted a feeling of accomplishment. I wanted to prove something to myself," he said.\nSenior Brian Sherwood, who has been friends with Rossano since fifth grade, was worried about his safety in the Middle East.\n"He's the one friend who really knows me well," Sherwood said. "He's always been there, and not knowing if he was going to come back was hard."\nRossano kept in touch with his friends and family through letters. He didn't want to write about what was going on, but told them that he couldn't wait to get back home. He received a lot of care packages, filled with beef jerky, magazines and socks.\nRossano felt the most homesick at the beginning of his tour. He passed time by lifting weights and playing cards, but every night he would look at pictures from home.\n"It's weird to be in a place all by yourself," Rossano said. "I had to stop thinking about it and just told myself to shut up."\nBut when he was struck with a 24-hour stomach virus, he just wanted his mom.\n"I was close to breaking down," Rossano said. \nWhen he returned home, he estimates that it took him six to nine months to re-adjust to civilian life.\n"I was edgy and opinionated -- I told people what I thought, completely and honestly. I was a pistol. You don't sugarcoat things in the Marines," Rossano said.\nNow that he's been back for a year and a half, Rossano's happy to be a normal college student. During his first year back at IU, Rossano rode for a Little 500 team, played intramural football and went to all his classes.\n"I wanted my life to be normal again," Rossano said. \n-- Contact staff reporter Jessica Levco at jlevco@indiana.edu.