The Beginning and the End

I originally wrote this post on 28JUN11.

Working for the USO and being one of those rare breeds on base we like to call females, I get to see some cool things.  I’ve flown on a Marine logistics flight to other FOBs, I’ve ridden in an MRAP and I’ve taken a tour with the PJs.

PJs are Pararescue Jumpers.  These men are in the US Airforce Special Operations, and they are responsible for the recovery and medical treatment of the wounded in a combat environment. (I knew all that but wikipedia just said it more concisely).  These are called MEDEVAC missions (medical evacuation).  They have to go to a specialized school for 2 years.  They must complete airborne school, survival school, underwater training, free fall parachutist school, and paramedic training among others.  Their motto is, “That Others May Live.”  They are basically badasses who save lives on a regular basis.

A couple months ago my coworker Duane and I got to tour their Black Hawks.  A PJ named Daniel gave us the tour and showed us all the equipment they use (I was shocked at how little there was, I remember even saying, “This is all it takes to save a life?  Any problem you have these few machines can fix?”  He said, “yes.” )  I put on his “kit” (bulletproof vest with attachments) on.  I nearly fell over from the weight and Daniel responded, “you don’t even have the ruck on yet.”  So then I put the ruck sack on.  It was so heavy, and he puts all this on and then squats or bends over to work on a patient.  They literally slide down a rope out of a chopper to get on the ground and save a troops life who has just been shot or blown up.  Then they throw them in the chopper and go.  Daniel had a large saw, I asked him what it was for, he said British “litters” (cots they put patients on) are longer than American litters and don’t fit on the plane, so they have to cut them down to size.  Of course since we’re in a warzone there is a 50 caliber gun and a Airman’s job who is to be the “gunner.”  Daniel told us a story of once the pilot was shot in the leg and he had to take his ruck and kit off and maneuver himself to slide up and over through to the cockpit to work on the pilot’s leg while they were flying back to KAF. 

I was so grateful for the tour and for what they do.  As we were walking back to get a bottle of water after the tour all of their pagers went off and they took off sprinting toward the choppers.  We got to see them all suit up efficiently and quickly and take off within 2 minutes to go save another life.  It was AMAZING.

Last night, my running coach, Capt. Simmons gave my coworker Randy and I a tour of CASF.  This is the area where they hold the wounded warriors near the flight line until a flight is ready for them to get on to be transported to a more equipped hospital in Bagram (Kabul, Afghanistan) or Landstuhl hospital in Germany.  After taking a tour, Simmons talked his way into letting us up in the control tower on the flight line.  We could see all of KAF.  It was breathtaking.  It is HUGE.  It is a city.  We watched C130s, and Chinooks fly by.  They say Kandahar Air Field has the busiest runway in the world.  It was crazy to be that close to airplanes that were constantly taking off and landing. 

While we were standing on the catwalk outside the tower, two Black Hawks approached.  Simmons told us they were a MEDEVAC mission coming in.  We watched two ambulances wait on the flightline while the two choppers landed.  PJs jumped out and carried the litters to the people waiting on the ground who put the wounded warriors in the ambulance (glorified humvee) and drove them the few feet to Role 3.  Role 3 is the emergency and critical care hospital.  Role 2 would be where you go for a sinus infection or the flu.  They didn’t seem very hurried so we took that as a good sign that the troops weren’t hurt too badly.  Simmons found out today they were Bravo, Alpha is the most critical that’s gun shot wounds or IEDs, Bravo is not as hurt.  As we watched the PJs jump back in and the choppers slicing through the air I thought of how I saw them at the beginning and the end.  The thing is I never want to see the middle.  I thought of my friends who have been MEDEVACd the ones who have died and the one who have lived.  How terrifying of a flight that must be.

Randy and I both said we could stand on that catwalk for hours and watch all the planes fly by.  We started to make our way around the catwalk and back indoors when Simmons pointed out Mortuary Affairs to us.  It is situated right behind the Role 3.  He pointed to the connexes where they keep the heroes (that is what they refer to the deceased as).  Simmons told us how sometimes mortuary affairs will go greet the PJs instead of Role 3.  That broke my heart.  Simmons even talked about how a few times he has volunteered over there to iron flags.  Just thinking about the incredible strength it would take to fill a metal box with ice to place a killed troop in, to iron the flag that will cover his final resting place, to say goodbye to a face that his own mother probably doesn’t even know is dead yet.  I took it all in.

Tonight Randy and I attended a ramp ceremony for 3 Marine heroes and 1 Army hero.  Before when I attended ramps I just felt a numbing sorrow.  This time I could picture it every step of the way, from the PJs getting the call, to the flight in, and the Role 3 and mortuary affairs.  It gave me some small sense of comfort to know that every single step of the way there were people trying with every last millimeter of their bodies’ limits to honor that troop.  The pilot of the chopper was racing to get to him, the medic on the ground was racing to keep him alive, the PJs were desperately trying to keep him going on the flight to Role 3, the doctors there tried their hardest too, and then mortuary affairs tried their best to prepare the body.  And me, well I’m a part of it too, because I’m trying my hardest with every ounce in my body to stand tall, place my hand over my heart while Amazing Grace plays, and honor that hero. 

Tomorrow I will write 4 new names on my hand when I run.  That’s one way I have found to honor them.  I encourage you to find a way.  When you send cookies to the troops deployed, adopt a soldier through Soldiers' Angels, make cards for our troops to send home through Operation Write Home, write a sister’s boyfriend’s best friend’s cousin who is deployed, donate to an organization that supports Wounded Warriors, thank any troop you see anywhere for their service, that’s how you can honor them.

I’ve seen the beginning and I’ve seen the ending, and I think both are in God’s hands.  It’s the middle, what you do with it, that’s what counts.  

I ran.

Armed with an iPod full of GirlTalk (thanks everyone for the playlist suggestions, keep them coming!), and motivation on my hand I hit the treadmill.  I went to the NATO gym (also known as 2 Shoes, because you have to bring a second non-dusty poo pond remant-y pair).  I saw a trainer I know, JD.  I haven't seen him in a while so I told him about my marathon plans and he gave me some great tips on training.  According to him I need to add in some speed interval training, or at least I think that's what he said, I was a little enamored by his gorgeous Irish accent.


My goal was 6 miles, the furthest yet.  I ran 10K, 6.2 miles instead, (mostly because the treadmill is set to kilometers in the gym and my poor math skills only get me so far) in a time of 63 minutes, not outstanding, but awesome for me!  I felt like I hit my perfect stride midway through and that I could run for miles.  I even cranked up the pace for the last kilometer.


The craziest part of it all was an Air Force pilot who was on the treadmill next to me came up to me when I was stretching afterward and said, "You are my inspiration.  I wanted to run 6 miles, but I just couldn't do it, but I saw you just running along like it was no big deal, and I thought I can do this too.  Well I didn't make 6 miles, but you got me further than I would have."


Wow.  24 hours ago I didn't want to run an inch, then somehow I found the inspiration through the sacrifices of our troops.  Now, unintentionally, I passed it on to a troop.  I love the way sometimes life just surprises you. :)

Race Idea

So in November I’m going to run a marathon, that's 26.2 miles!  It's the Soldier Marathon in Ft. Benning, GA.  Today I ran a 5K race.  So far in my marathon training I am up to 5 miles, so a 5K should be nothing, I do it every other day.  Well, I started too fast, and it was super dusty, needless to say I’m making excuses for the fact that I was burning out toward the end.  I looked down at my wrist, saw Daren’s name and got an instant second wind.  I thought of all the sacrifices he made, and realized my running 3 little miles and donating 5 dollars to a military non-profit really is not that big of a deal, I can do this.  I also received some help from an extraordinary running mentor, SSG Jeremy Logan, who finished the race in 20 minutes (a “crap time” according to him, he usually finishes in 18), then jogged back down the course to find me and help me keep pace and motivation to get to the finish line.  A couple months ago Logan ran 46 miles in less than 24 hours for a charity run!

I’m also blessed enough to have Air Force Captain Robert Simmons as my running coach.  He has run some marathons including some 50 milers!  He is the one who has agreed to meet me 4 days a week in the wee hours of the morning to run, and never bailed on me even once!  He also helped correct my form so I wasn’t hurting my shoulders anymore (You’re wondering how do you hurt your shoulders running?  Well, let’s just say I looked like a drunk kangaroo when I ran).  Anyway, back to the race idea.

Tonight I was washing my face and dreading the fact that tomorrow morning on my marathon training schedule I have to run 6 miles, the farthest yet.  I started to doubt how I was going to keep my motivation up to keep adding miles and weeks until the marathon in November.  If it was that hard today to run 3 miles, what is it going to be like when I need to run 16, 18, 20?!  Then I thought about how I got through today, by looking down at my bracelet and realizing that in the grand scheme of life my feet hurting, or breath panting, or muscle soreness is nothing.  That discomfort will be gone in mere minutes.  I thought how a family somewhere in the US is mourning the loss of a loved one right now who was killed in the war in Afghanistan or Iraq, how their pain is incomprehensible to mine, and their sacrifice exponentially more.

That’s how the plan came about.  According to my schedule I should run 4 days a week, with one day being speed workouts, and one day being my “long day” and the other two just usual days.  That’s 4 days of motivation needed and an opportunity to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. 

I am going to write the name of the heroes who have been killed in action since I last ran on my hand.  For them and their eternal peace, I will run.  For their families and the pain they are enduring, I will run.  For all their fellow troops who miss them, I will run.  For thanksgiving for their sacrifice for my freedom so I can run another day, I will run.  They’ll be my motivation. 

In June of 2010 there were 103 casualties in Afghanistan alone.  Every single day you can check the Department of Defense's website and see the news releases of casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan. 

So tomorrow morning, my 6 miles will be for a Marine hero, Sgt. Mark A. Bradley, 25, of Cuba, NY, who died June 16^th in Helmand province, Afghanistan and an Army hero, Pvt. Ryan J Larson, 19, of Friendship, Wis. who died June 15^th in Kandahar province, Afghanistan. 

This one’s for you.

Let us never forget.

JFK's famous words at Arlington National Cemetery

I’m annoyed this Memorial Day.  On the front page of my hometown paper there is a huge headline, “Memories of War.”  This article features four gentlemen who served for our country…in WWII.  Now while I know that their sacrifices are honorable and deserving respect it perturbs me that this completed the entirety of the coverage. 

I know one of the reasons I'm out here is to show the troops fighting these wars that they are not forgotten, but here in my hometown newspaper is proof that to some they are.  Here are four accounts that are nostalgic, but unrelatable to most of today’s population as the men discuss their war stories from 1944.  Have we forgotten that there are men and women still dying for us TODAY?

Where are the stories this Memorial Day from a soldier, airman, marine, sailor, who just returned from Iraq or Afghanistan?

There are also three editorials in the paper, two of three which mention have no mention of Iraq or Afghanistan.  I think we are doing a disservice to ourselves if this Memorial Day we just sit back and only think of these old troops who are enjoying their golden years, but still haunted by memories of their time at war.  They get to have their golden years.  

We also need to remember this Memorial Day the men and women who lost their lives this past year, and the past ten years. 

Temporary headstones and newly made plots at Arlington eerily waiting for casualties from Iraq and Afghanistan to fill them

The ones who will never get to see their daughter or son grow up.  The ones who were never even old enough to legally drink a beer.  The ones who fought hard and laid down their life for a friend.  The ones who never saw it coming.  The ones who suffered.  The ones who now live, but without a limb.  The ones who have seen a friend die right beside them, but still go out the next day to that same place to do their job.

Along with our WWII and Vietnam veterans we need to remember these men and women, our Iraq and Afghanistan veterans.  We need to not let a day go by that we don’t think about our troops, because that one day you forgot that they are out here at least one family is heartbroken because their brother, sister, son, daughter, husband, wife, friend has been killed.

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

I encourage everyone to join the Facebook group, “Military Wall of Honor.”  It is a group that posts about every troop that perishes in Iraq and Afghanistan.  After posting the war casualty, this dedicated group of volunteers then tries to find as much information as possible about the deceased to make them real to all of us.  They put up pictures from their Facebook profile pics and list comments that people have left on the deceased’s wall.  They also tell the official story of how they paid the ultimate sacrifice for us. 

As I scroll through my news feed laughing at the latest pictures of my friend’s bar hopping or stalking someone’s statuses, I’ll come across a Military Wall of Honor posting.  For a moment when I see that young face of a smiling troop looking back at me, I am reminded he or she is gone now.  I always take a second, even if it is just a second, to say a prayer for the fallen troop and their family and loved ones.  In that moment they are not forgotten.

This is a link to the story, "The Marble of our Heroes' Headstones" shown on CBS News Sunday Morning about the creation of headstones at national cemeteries.  It features the creation of Daren Hidalgo's headstone.

My Boys

I found myself a family in Afghanistan.  They’re a smellier, more foul mouthed, definitely more male version, than my family back home, but they’ll do just fine.  Being one of three girls in my immediate family and one of a gaggle of mostly female grandchildren, I always secretly longed for a big brother, well doesn’t God have a funny sense of humor, now I have about 25 of them…who are armed and dangerous. 

I arrived in Afghanistan on September 30 and on October 31 I met some G Co.  More than a thousand soldiers come in our center’s doors everyday, but these guys, 3^rd Squadron, 2^nd Stryker Calvary Regiment, Ghost Company, (G Co for short) there is just something about them, like a mold that rapidly grows and seems annoying at first but then you realize it's really penicillin that's amazingly awesome and saves lives.

Gentry and Hidalgo obviously up to no good on Halloween

 

Cindy and "Butter Bar" Hidalgo on Halloween

It all started when I spotted a wounded warrior who was leaning on crutches looking bored out of his mind, I told him I could offer him a seat if he wanted to volunteer behind the desk.  He took the bait, finding nothing else remotely entertaining to do and became our first G Co volunteer.  That was Gentry.  Then Hidalgo spotted Gentry behind the desk and wondered what he was doing.  I quickly roped him in as well and then Cooper soon followed too.  Hawes, although in H Co, still belongs in the cool kid group because I met him on Halloween with the rest of the guys.  Then although they didn’t volunteer, Perez, Grover and some others started hanging around the USO.  These guys were the first troops that made me laugh harder than anyone I had met out here.  They will do anything I ask of them, although making sure to give me a hard time first, then eventually doing it.  They make fun of me, and get it right back.  They are also fiercely protective, even if they have fun watching me squirm when a creeper approaches.  It was like having instant brothers I never knew I wanted.  All my coworkers came to know the guys and Cindy and Sarah York became close with the crew as well.

Cooper picking on me

Well because soldiers gossip more than high school girls, word must have gone around that the USO has free internet, delicious coffee and some employees with soft spots for G Co and when some more G Co came through for various reasons like stryker maintenance, going on leave, or detainee guard I met some more of the boys: Ortega, Young, Moser, Shaw, Irons, Dalrymple, MacDonald (H Co), Morgan, Sgt V and Garcia to name a few.  They were all like the rest, hilarious, inappropriate, brave, funny, exciting, ridiculous guys.  Then there were our "voluntolds" James, Christiansen, Knutson, and Gaultier, who provided endless entertainment during their stay.  Later on I met Runkle, Goff, Cole and Thompson.  I've become closer with some than others, but with G Co I've had countless DFAC meals, Catchphrase nights, Green Bean runs, Egyptian Rat Screw games and even Young and Moser acted in a video for my friend back home.

Cooper picking on York

Just like family, they were there for me after Hidalgo’s death.  My heart swelled the day after I attended his ramp and at four different times G Co guys came to the USO with heavy hearts but determined souls to break the news to me.  Much to their relief, I already knew.  As I embraced each one I thanked God for the support system he had given me.  Throughout the months the guys have talked to me and made me smile with memories of Hildago and pieces of stories I never knew.  These stories are reassurances to me that this great guy would never be forgotten in any of our minds, and that his example lives on in all of them.

/

Hawes wearing my sweater, lil snug, no?

As I’ve showcased, I have a strong attachment to “my boys.”  Since I arrived at KAF there’s always been one or more here at any given time to annoy, I mean, entertain me.  Almost 7 months I’ve known these guys.  Now they are back at KAF one last time to redeploy (go back to Germany).  A couple days before their arrival Hawes was introducing me to some H Co and he said, “Don’t bother trying to impress her, G Co is her favorite.”

I was so disappointed (okay maybe a lil more than that, pretty much devastated) when I found out their date had been pushed back and I would only get to spend a few days with them before I left for my vacation to come home.  I’d have to leave one family for another.

Young and I eating homemade cookies Bonnie Mattas sent the boys

They’re leaving to go back to their lives.  Although I’m sure I’ll meet other soldiers who will become my friends, none will compare to G Co.  I want for them the absolute best, because they deserve it.  They’ve had to deal with a lot of injuries and death this deployment, but they are all incredibly strong men. All the words in the world couldn’t thank them enough for their service to their country, the sacrifices they have made, the things they have had to endure, and what their friendship has meant to me, but I thought I’d give it a shot.  When I took this job I thought of how much I’d give, I never realized how much I would get.  I picture that scene in The Blindside where one of her rich friends says, “You’re changing that boy’s life.”  She immediately responds, “No, he’s changing mine.”

 

As I’m sure with all the friendships one makes throughout life, some might become life long friends that see me through anything, and some of them will drift away and just become names I see on my Facebook feed.  But even then, I won’t be able to keep myself from cracking a smile.  Because although I may forget specific conversations, or not know their current situation, I’ll never forget the way my boys made me feel…like I wasn’t half way across the world from my family, they were right here.

Toujours Pret.

Reaction Time

After hearing the news, processing it, and writing a blog about it, my journalist instincts kicked in and I wanted to know what everyone else thought about it.  So, I asked.

One of my friends out on a COP said, “When we heard it was like thumbs up, okay back to work.”  Another had his Facebook status say, “So Osama’s gone, but we’re still here, go figure.”  Another soldier expressed his disdain that he has spent 4 years of his life deployed because of this guy, but will not see any proof of his death.  For the most part, everyone here is not reacting.  They’re all just going about their business, because there are still more evil men out there to fight against every day.

Then there are the millions of ridiculous Facebook statuses.  It befuddles me that Facebook is the avenue to have political debate.  If you really wanted to have an intelligent discussion of ideas, that’s what it needs to be, a discussion, not yelling on your wall and then what?  Refreshing your page every 10 minutes to see if anyone responded?  Maybe I’m the only one this annoys, and maybe honestly, I’m being a little hypocritical, after all I write a blog, but I at least try to be sensitive in my writing. 

We worry about the partisan divide in our Congress, well just look at it on an 18 year old’s Facebook walls.  On one point it does encourage me a little that people are getting involved in the debate and taking an interest in the leadership of our nation…but then I read the comments and realize they have no factual information and would rather just tear apart the intelligence and/or mother of the person they are responding to and that feeling of encouragement goes out the window.

It was really interesting to me that people found Bible passages to both support and admonish the celebration of an evil person’s death.

‎"Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles..." - Proverbs 24:17

When the righteous prosper, the city rejoices; when the wicked perish, there are shouts of joy. - Proverbs 11:10

Same book , different chapters, different messages?  Religion confuses me sometimes.

Then there is the wise Dr. King:

‎"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

To one of my friend’s statuses that had this Dr. King quote someone had responded, "All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to stand by and do nothing." Edmund Burke

There’s just so much to take into consideration, should we feel happy at the death of a ruthless murderer, or sad at the loss of a human life no matter how evil it was? 

It’s hard to be sensible about this when everyday I meet troops who have been injured by the men Osama has trained or instructed to carry out his plans.  I’m still not sure if my feelings are taking the high road or just the easy road, but I think the quote that most sums up my feelings was posted on my coworker/roommate Erin’s facebook status…

‎"I've never wished a man dead, but I've read some obituaries with great pleasure." -Mark Twain.

*Disclaimer* I did not fact check to see if these quotes actually came from these authors; I trusted my Facebook sources, okay so maybe I don't have the greatest journalist instincts.

Far from over

This morning I woke up, went to the bathroom and a female soldier told me, “Did you hear the good news?”  We’ve been on high alert the past few days because of the prisoners escaping in Kandahar, so I assumed she was going to tell me we caught some bad guys and were no longer on alert.  Little did I know she was going to tell me we caught the biggest bad guy.  I was excited, happy, even exuberant.  I thought it was pretty cool that years from now I’ll be able to say, yep I was in Afghanistan when Osama was killed.  I’ve been reading, Where Men Win Glory, and in the book they discuss how close we came to killing Osama at the very beginning of the war, but he escaped due to our poor planning.  I quickly got online and read as many news stories and Facebook status updates as I could.  I saw one person comment on one of my coworker’s Facebook status, “I hope you guys are having a big party.”

Then just like any other day, I put my tennis shoes on one at a time and went to the gym.  While I was there running on the treadmill, they came on with an announcement of a “controlled explosion.”  This happens about every other day, or sometimes three or four times a day.  It basically means they found an IED (improvised explosive device) on base or near base and are now detonating it.  The soldier running next to me stopped on his treadmill and took his ear buds out when he heard the announcement come on, I’m sure he was checking to make sure it wasn’t a more dangerous warning. 

Moments later “The Today Show” came on.  I could not hear it, but I saw pictures of Osama, and video of American crowds cheering.  I looked around me and not a single person was cheering, clapping or celebrating in any form… they were working.  

Our brave men and women who are out here fighting for us, are going about doing what they do, continuing to work out to stay in the best shape, so they can do the best job they can.  I swelled with pride.  It was the proudest moment I have felt while doing my job these 7 months out here.  I get the honor of serving them.  They don't have time for a party, they are continuing to train and fight, because this is far from over.  They might not have been on the mission to assassinate Osama, but in some way each and every single one of them contributed to bring an end to his terrorist reign.  As I ran elated in this sense of awe, I looked at the troops around me and  it was as if suddenly everything else turned blurry, and I focused in on their memorial tattoos and KIA bracelets and then gazed down at my own.

1LT Daren M. Hidalgo

KIA 20 February 2011 Mama Kiriz, Afghanistan

3^rd Squadron, 2^nd Stryker Calvary Regiment

I couldn’t help but think, yeah we got this one bad guy, but at the cost of how many of our good guys?

I thought of all the Americans who now think the war is over.  I got a message from a friend who said, “Does this mean you can come home now?”  Far from it.  The retaliation is sure to be strong, heavy and extremely dangerous. 

As I finished up my run, I heard another announcement, it was the test for the “mass casuality” alarm.