His neck is stiff, still sore from where a piece of exploding metal chipped the vertebra in the back of his neck. A second shrapnel hit him in the jaw.

"I am definitely feeling grateful," said Michael V. Berninger, a 20-year-old Marine on medical leave from Iraq, now back home in Vineyard Haven.

Had that piece of metal gone deeper or ended up somewhere else, Mr. Berninger might not be sitting here.

"That is probably the closest you can come to being killed. It certainly is the closest for me," he said, taking a long puff from a cigarette.

For many who observed and celebrated Veterans Day yesterday, it is more about wars that have come and gone. But for this Islander, decorated with a Purple Heart, Veterans day holds more immediate meaning.

A lance corporal and a driver in the 2nd Marine Division, he drives two kinds of vehicles, a seven-ton truck and a Humvee.

Mr. Berninger was with a convoy of 10 trucks the night of Thursday, Oct. 21, having left the outskirts of Falluja, going down a highway that was closed to regular traffic.

"We were about one and a half to two hours away from Falluja. It was 10:30 at night. I was probably the fourth truck back," Mr. Berninger said.

The highway bypassed a city near the Euphrates River.

Mr. Berninger said he was seated on the passenger side of the truck, in an open cab. The armor on the walls of the truck offer some protection, but not always.

There were 12 people riding in back, three were seated in front. A man was stationed at the machine gun turret. "We were pulling up alongside a car and the whole car blew up," he said.

It was just a regular car, no passengers inside, he said.

The force of the explosion lifted the front end of the truck up off the ground. Of the three Marines injured, Mr. Berninger was hurt the worst.

A helicopter was immediately called and he was evacuated to a hospital in Baghdad. By 3 a.m., he was on his way to Germany.

Three days later he was lying in a bed at Bethesda Naval Hospital, outside Washington, D.C.

At noon time on Tuesday, Oct. 26, he was met by top generals. An assistant commandant for the Marines gave Mr. Berninger the Purple Heart.

"He came in and read out of a little book. There were other generals behind him. They stood at attention. He shook my hand. They said they were grateful for my going. Then he awarded me the Purple Heart," he said.

Mr. Berninger is glad to be home and with his family, but this week is also a time to think about his Marine family afar. The war in Iraq has intensified, especially in the area of Falluja. His colleagues may be in harm's way.

Since returning to the Vineyard more than a week ago, Mr. Berninger has been approached by many of his Island friends. He told the Gazette on Monday, he'd like his friends to know that Iraq is not that far away for some. It is a dangerous war. So far as he knows, there are at least six Vineyard families with loved ones serving there.

Mr. Berninger graduated from the regional high school as part of the Class of 2003. His parents, Rick and Joanne LaPierre, live in a cozy two-bedroom cottage on Daggett avenue in Vineyard Haven. Mr. Berninger has four step-brothers.

On a white wall in the living room there are pictures of Mr. Berninger when he was in grade school. He said he was a B-student in high school and his recreational interest was never far from skate boarding.

Before going off to Iraq last July, he said he had one opportunity to use the newly built skate park across the street from the high school. He looks forward to recovering and getting back out on the concrete some day.

"That could take many months," he said.

While most Islanders were celebrating the Fourth of July last summer, Mr. Berninger was preparing to leave for Iraq from Camp Lejeune, N.C. He and his comrades departed July 7. "Our first stop was Kuwait, where we were for a month," he said.

Mr. Berninger has seen plenty and learned a lot about the Middle East country, its people and efforts by the United States to help the region establish its own government, police and military.

Mr. Berninger said that when he first arrived, he was amazed over the economic disparity between those who live out in the country and those in urban areas.

"The closer you get into the city, the better off people are living. When we first got into the country, I saw people living in mud houses," he said.

A week before the car explosion, Mr. Berninger said he was part of an effort to deliver supplies to schoolchildren.

"We dropped off new desks, backpacks, notebooks and pads of paper," he said.

Standing in a school playground surrounded by more than 50 anxious and happy children, the thought of an exploding bomb was far from his mind.

But Mr. Berninger learned up close how enemies of the U.S. occupation use vehicles loaded with explosives to hurt and kill Americans. They use cellular phones to trip the explosives and timers to delay the detonation.

At least a half dozen times, Mr. Berninger saw vehicles blow up that way. There is no safe place to be in a convoy, he said. Even vehicles in the middle aren't safe.

Mr. Berninger admitted the Purple Heart ceremony brought him to tears. "Yes, it was something important. It was pretty much the first time I saw so many with so much rank," he said.

"I am feeling grateful," he said. He is going to return to Camp Lejeune on Dec. 1. He'll have Thanksgiving with his family and friends.

"My friends ask me a lot of questions," he said. "I don't tell them what it is like fighting. I will tell them about those who go to hospitals. I will tell them how dangerous it is.

"When I was in that Maryland hospital, the whole floor of the hospital was filled with Marines," he said.

The conviction of this Marine overrides any ambivalence and worry.

"In a way it is depressing seeing how many have gone to the hospital. But even my parents would say that our spirits are high," Mr. Berninger said. "We aren't really depressed over these injuries, because we want to be ready to go back to work."