SwiftVets.com

[Kimmymac]

This is an e-mail sent by a Navy Combat doc. It is a first person account of Iraq. It is a tough read, but I think it is worth reading. Please say a prayer. I am trying to figure out how I can possibly pray any harder. As the mother of one serving in Iraq, I can not tell you how it feels every time there are more news reports telling of more fatalities. Some days are just worse than others. I think I am okay, and the phone rings and I jump 10 feet. Kerry saying this war is all wrong is just salt in a wound.

Please God, let this war be over soon. Let freedom reign, and in the meantime: Psalm 91, son, Psalm 91.

From: Falco, William CIV COMNAVAIRPAC
To: Bryant, Eric V LtCol COMNAVAIRPAC ; Dave Kelly (E-mail 2) ; Scott, Frederick N COMNAVAIRPAC ; Jarvis, Bill G CTR COMNAVAIRPAC ; Nieves, Denise CTR COMNAVAIRPAC ; O'Grady, John C. CIV COMFITWINGLANT ; Patricia Hagey (E-mail) ; Bendot, Kathleen NAVAIR
Sent: Monday, September 13, 2004 7:22 AM
From: Mellon, Andrew R LtCol N3
Sent: Thursday, September 09, 2004 7:38
To: NMITC-CO-XO-Directors; Bernard, David M Captain NMITC; NMITC-MARINES-ONLY
Subject: The List


Forwarded by the CG of I MEF...




Greetings all from hot, hot, hot Iraq,
We are short indeed...although not quite as short as we had originally thought...our flight home has been posted and is showing up 3 days later than planned. The good news is that we leave in the middle of the night and arrive (all admin complete, including turning our weapons into the armory) ! around dinnertime at Pendleton on the same day we leave (11 hrs time difference). The other good news is it appears we've got commercial contract air carriers taking us home...so we don't have to worry about sleeping on the cold steel deck of an Air Force C-17.

So...we turned over authority of the surgical company last week to our replacements, who had a serious trial by fire here in multiple ways, including multiple traumas, surgeries, increased risk to their personal safety, power outages, water outages, and camel spiders in the hospital...all in their first 4 days. But a few days ago, we heard the helicopters coming and knew they were dealing with multiple traumas, several of which were going to the OR...and we sat in our barracks and waited for them to call us if they needed us. They never did. Last week was the ceremony to mark the official end of our role here. Now we just wait.

As the days move very slowly by, just! waiting, I decided that one of the things I should work on for my own closure and therapeutic healing...is a list. The list would be a comparison: "Things That Were Good" about Iraq and being deployed with the Marines as one of the providers in a surgical company, and "Things That Were Not Good." Of course, it's quite obvious that this list will be very lopsided. But I thought I would do it anyway, hoping that somehow the trauma, the fear, the grief, the laughter, the pride and the patriotism that have marked this long seven months for me will begin to make sense, through my writing. Interestingly, it sort of turned into a poem. To be expected, I guess.

Most of all it's just therapy, and by now I should be relatively good at that. Hard to do for yourself, though.

So here goes...in reverse order of importance...

Things That Were Good

Sunset over the desert...almost always orange
Sunrise over the desert...almost always red
The childlike excitement of having fresh fruit at dinner after going weeks without it

Being allowed to be the kind of clinician I know I can be, and want to be, with no limits placed and no doubts expressed

But most of all,
The United States Marines, our patients...
Walking, every day, and having literally every single person who passes by say "Hoorah, Ma'am..."
Having them tell us, one after the other, through blinding pain or morphine-induced euphoria..."When can I get out of here? I just want to get back to my unit..."
Meeting a young Sergeant, who had lost an eye in an explosion...he asked his surgeon if he could open the other one...when he did, he sat up and looked at the young Marines from his fire team who were being treated for superficial shrapnel wounds in the next room...he smiled, laid back down, and said, "I only have one good eye, Doc! , but I can see that my Marines are OK."
And of course, meeting the one who threw himself on a grenade to save the men at his side...who will likely be the first Medal of Honor recipient in over 11 years...

My friends...some of them will be lifelong in a way that is indescribable
My patients...some of them had courage unlike anything I've ever experienced before
My comrades, Alpha Surgical Company...some of the things witnessed will traumatize them forever, but still they provided outstanding care to these Marines, day in and day out, sometimes for days at a time with no break, for 7 endless months

And last, but not least...
Holding the hand of that dying Marine

Things That Were Not Good

Terrifying camel spiders, poisonous scorpions, flapping bats in the darkness, howling, territorial wild dogs, flies that insisted on landing on our faces, giant, looming mosquitoes, invisible sand flies that carry leischmaniasis

132 degrees
Wearing long sleeves, full pants and combat boots in 132 degrees
Random and totally predictable power outages that led to sweating throughout the night
Sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat...like wrists, and ears

The roar of helicopters overhead
The resounding thud of exploding artillery in the distance
The popping of gunfire...
Not knowing if any of the above sounds is a good thing, or bad thing
The siren, and the inevitable "big voice" yelling at us to take cover...
Not knowing if that siren was on someone's DVD or if the big voice would soon follow

The cracking sound of giant artillery rounds splitting open against rock and dirt
The rumble of the ground...
The shattering of the windows...
Hiding under flak jackets and kevlar helmets, away from the broken windows, waiting to be told we can come to the hospital...to treat the ones who were not so lucky...

Watching the helicopter with the big red cross on the side landing at our pad
Worse...watching Marine helicopters filled with patients landing at our pad...because we usually did not realize they were coming...

Ushering a sobbing Marine Colonel away from the trauma bay while several of his Marines bled and cried out in pain inside
Meeting that 21-year-old Marine with three Purple Hearts...and listening to him weep because he felt ashamed of being afraid to go back
Telling a room full of stunned Marines in blood-soaked uniforms that their comrade, that they had tried to save, had just died of his wounds
Trying, as if in total futility, to do anything I could, to ease the trauma of group after group...that suffered loss after loss, grief after inconsolable grief...

Washing blood off the boots of one of our young nurses while she told me about the one who bled out in the trauma bay...and then the one who she had to tell, when he pleaded for the truth, that his best friend didn't make it...
Listening to another of our nurses tell of the Marine who came in talking, telling her his name...about how she pleaded with him not to give up, told him that she was there for him...about how she could see his eyes go dull when he couldn't fight any longer...

And last, but not least...
Holding the hand of that dying Marine

[LewWaters]

Many of us had similar feelings coming home from Vietnam. I'm sure others from previous wars also shared those emotions. The difference, before Vietnam, no one was publicly throwing so much salt into as many wounds as Kerry did then and is continuing to do today.

As much as I despise Hanoi Jane, Hanoi John is even more discpicable. He was there, regardless of how short and wasn't misguided by leftist thinking and ideals, he deliberatly lied and tried to ride the wave of anti-war sentiment into public office. When that failed, he waited and rode into office as a war hero.
_________________
Clark County Conservative

[dmackto]

That was so powerful. Thank you.
_________________
Deborah
The FROZEN CHICKEN Journal

This is no time for ease and comfort. It is the time to dare and endure.
- Winston Churchill

[neverforget]

By best friends from VA group were Navy combat corpsmen in Viet Nam. This will touch so close to their hearts. Thank you for posting something so powerful.
_________________
US Army Security Agency
1965-1971

[dmackto]

Would it be ok to post that poem on my blog?
_________________
Deborah
The FROZEN CHICKEN Journal

This is no time for ease and comfort. It is the time to dare and endure.
- Winston Churchill

[CandiM]

The debt that we owe these young men and women is truly incalculable--

May the Lord hold them close and closer and bring them home safe and soon--C
_________________
“I haven’t seen anyone milk this much out of a bad boat ride since Gilligan” -- Dennis Miller

[oasis]

Hello,

I have written a poem to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

Thorns
_________________
-Oasis

Please donate to the.. RED CROSS

[Kimmymac]

DMac- If your question was directed to me, then absolutely it would be okay. It would be more than okay. The first few lines of intro are mine, they can be deleted if you would like. It does need some form of introduction, a task which I am sure you are more than equal.

I am sure the Marines would not mind, and I know the Navy doc would be honored.

I hope your web site makes you rich and famous--but more importantly, I hope it is fulfilling and signigicantly stands up for what is true and honorable.

And as for the other post of yours: "I can see it." Of course you can, you are a writer.

But the story is part of family lore, and gave my parents an early indication of what they were in for. At 19 I was out working my butt off for Ronald Reagan on college campuses in California. I was often heckled and mocked, but it was like they had arrived at the headwaters of the River Give-As-Good-As-You-Get when they attempted to heckle me. I would say, "Bring it on," but then I could actually stand and defend, unlike the Benny Hill "reporting-for-duty" guy. Anyway, I had a poli sci class back then, (election fall of 1979) and when we started the class, the instructor took a straw vote for president. Carter had 54 votes, Reagan had one (me) and Anderson had one. The prof. was actually a moderate retired Navy guy (a miracle) and would let me debate these people in class. On election eve he took another poll. Result: Carter:2. Reagan 53, Anderson:1 (which I considered a vote for Reagan.)

And that pretty accurately reflected the general election results, and was, I believe, a watershed moment in the American political scene because it was when I believe Americans began to see that the media is biased and lies routinely. Of course, conserves always knew that, but then we are visionaries. I can remember my mom calling Walter Cronkite's network and giving them all kinds of grief over their reporting. They would say, "Well, what did he say?" And she would say, "It isn't what he said, it was the way he said it."

She was way ahead of her time, and she would be outraged to see that now bald faced lies, forgeries, and tainted "witnesses" are what passes for impartial reporting. Disgusting. Of course, once a society abandons the idea that truth is not just a virtue, but a neccessity for the very existance of the society, this sort of thing is natural and inevitable. "It depends on what the meaning of the word is, is," said the President of these United States, with a straight face to a room of nodding chins, sagely considering the President's words. Pilate posited the question, "What is truth?" as he reluctantly condemned Jesus to death. And he was, as a Roman governor, pretty representative of his society at the time. Verum? <shrug> Que est verum?

And of course, we know what happened to that greatest, most powerful of all societies, the Roman Empire. It has simply...disappeared. Verum? Que est verum?

But one last thing about my mom; it was because of her that I came up with the idea for my prof to start teaching a class that was eventually called "Media Distortion in the Communication Age" which was a higher section poli sci elective. I was the TA and got a bunch of old footage of Uncle Walt lying about Goldwater, Vietnam, etc. Seems kind of "no duh" now, perhaps, but it was controversial and ground-breaking at the time. (The very idea! Walter Cronkite lying! Shocking! Sigh. We were so innocent, once.)

Well, DMac, thanks for listening. God bless, and let the eagles scream loudly enough to drown out the damned infernal parrots.
-kmac[/b]

[jataylor11]

Thank you. They seems so minor those two little words. There is no way those words can convey what I truly feel. Those of us who sit here at home and don't do anything. Thank you for your service. You have my unending support.


I do not want to see another soldier die. It it time that we turned those towns, those "sacred" mosques to dust. I do not want to lose one more soldier because terrorists hide in mosques or "control" certain towns. It is time the American public supporting our troops demand we stop taking a "politically acceptable" approach to fighting this war.

Leaving Iraq will not end the war on terrorism --- the terrorists have not sued for peace. They would see such a departure as success. I think it is time to take a Harry Truman approach. Well not nuclear --- but some MOABs scattered about the Middle East might get the message across to the terrorists. Why have these things if we don't use them?

[Kimmymac]

I share your frustration, jataylor. But it is that old, old frustration of not doing evil while battling evil. I know it is tough, but we have to be careful not to become that which we hate.

I agree with you, though, that is IMPERATIVE that we not withdraw from Iraq with our tails between our legs. Our national will must be of steel. After 9/11 President Bush vowed to take the war to the terrorists and everyone stood and cheered. Now that we have losses, and those losses have names and faces, many Americans want to cut and run.

What did America think war was like? A video game with a re-set button for whenever they didn't like the score?

I have a son in Iraq, and I have a daughter that is a Navy nurse preparing to be deployed. She is a trained trauma medic, and specifically asked for a combat assignment. There are 5 of my children's friends either in Afghanistan or Iraq as I type this. Not too long ago my biggest fear was that my daughter wouldn't study enough for her alegebra test, and that my son would ignore his curfew again. You know what I worry about now? You know what grieves me even more than the idea they may not live to have their own family someday? I grieve their loss of innocence. They will NEVER be the same. I am the daughter, and sister, and wife of combat vets, and I have seen how it changes people. But the terrible truth is that it has to be done. All those kids that I fussed at for foraging in our refrigerator are now willingly painting targets on themselves, so we don't have them painted on us here. They are taking it so we don't have any Madrids and Breslans.

"Wrong war, wrong time, wrong,wrong,wrong," says Kerry.

Well, Mr. Kerry, you are the world's leading expert on being wrong, that is true. But when would it have been "right"' I wonder, if it isn't now?

[dmackto]

[Kimmymac]

Yes, I have the name, but for security reasons don't think it should go on the net. All kinds of crazies out there, you know. Not all of them in Iraq.

And the doc is female, dmac!!



"Semper Fi, ma'am"

I will check out your web site later, thanks.

[dmackto]

[Padma]

I had to explain to my officemates why a 50-yr-old retired Master Sergeant was sitting at his computer, crying. All I could do was point to the screen....
_________________
Master Sergeant, USAF (Retired)

[Kimmymac]

That's okay, Padma. I cry every day now. When my son left here on his way to Ft. Lewis, and his deployment to Iraq, we all stood in the driveway and waved 'till his truck disappeared around the bend, and you know, a piece of my heart drove off with him. Half of my kids' circle of friends is in Iraq or Afghanistan; it's amazing.

I just figure they sent mostly Texans because the folks in charge also remember the Alamo and know good, strong stock when they see it.

Now my daughter is readying for deployment. She has been getting her level 5 trauma certs, and has requested a combat area assignment. (Navy surgical nurse) I am *so* tempted to ask my husband to make a few phone calls and squash the request. But like the senior Bush, I never would, since that would be less than honorable. Soooo tempting, though.

Before 9/11 she planned on becoming an elementary school teacher.