Sandstorm
The days are counting down...118 left I think. I can't wait to finally be home again. It seems like I have been here an eternity. I have seen too many things and endured many sleepless nights while I have been here. I think I...we ALL have earned our tours end. The word on the street is we will be pulling out of here Nov. 13th, but I won't hold my breath...only to be duped yet again by those who continually dupe.
I started off with a little info...just to talk about the sandstorm today. It happens every so often, and definitely isn't unusual for where we are in the world to have a sandstorm. I only see the end effects of it during the day though, because I work nights over here. Today as I walked to the Dining Facility, I just happened to look up and actually looked RIGHT AT the sun. It was so dusty that it formed a tint between the sun and my eyes, almost eclipse-like. It looked like a white dot amidst a sea of brown. It's not every day you can look directly at the sun, without squinting.
I will cherish the days that I am not here...it's like having a near-death experience. You don't want to let life leave you in the wake after you have been here for a year and 3 months.
20070717
20070713
As I remember...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Why did it have to happen to us? Why did WE have to lose someone in this war? We are supposed to be PRESERVING the fighting strength...and yet we have to suffer loss too? Why? We even take care of the enemies! You wonder if they even KNOW that! And yet...they still target us.
Tuesday....July the 10th, 2007.
Another day of combatives...sweat pouring from my pores as I change clothes after a session of grappling with the boys. We all were laughing...joking about who choked who out, or who got what submission hold on whom. Then...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
That's when the mortars started landing. Were they mortars? Or was it just a garbage truck banging an empty receptacle against it's worn, beaten steel exterior? Hard to tell these days...but the thunderous booms only grew louder. This only means that they are landing CLOSER. Fear set into ALL of our bodies, showing in each of our eyes. We all smeared ourselves on the floor AND against the wall, trying to stay away from windows...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
We have heard 7...even 15 at times...but this time, this time there were more. At least 25 and counting, we wondered if it would stop. We stared at each other. Afraid that we weren't really safe in the building where we lay, but we stay still...waiting.
Tuesday....July the 10th, 2007.
After what seemed to be hours...but was only 20-25 minutes, we heard the "Big Voice" say, "All Clear! All Clear!" We picked ourselves up off the floor, and gathered our rifles, pistols and belongings. We had ended our session anyway, so heading back to the hospital was our next step. We hesitantly set foot outside and make our way back...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Walking up to the front gate I notice a trail of blood...a worn shoe, tattered...a bloody shirt, ripped and lying alone in the street. Where is the person that should be wearing these things? He...she...must be inside. Half a dozen individuals stand at the gate, waiting for treatment...bloodied and scared. I could see it in their eyes; the fear.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Our group had dissipated as we entered the grounds of the Combat Support Hospital. We each went to our supporting areas. A fellow soldier, "Hollywood", and I made our way to our ward. We were greeted with heavy hearts, and tear-filled eyes. I didn't know what was wrong...half of me didn't WANT to know. 1LT VB tells me, "She's in the ER...she's (sobbing) been hit...(sobbing)...."
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
My disbelief overtakes my anger and I head toward the Emergency Room. I trot down the steps, and turn the corner only to find more people being treated in the hallway. We had run out of room in the actual ER to take care of all the wounded. My leader...my NCOIC...my mentor showed up at the same time I did and we both washed our hands and donned gloves, thinking we could possibly help...if need be. We were directed to where she was being worked on.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
I walked into the Trauma Room, and my knees became weak. Was I really seeing what I was seeing? Were my eyes playing tricks on me? That can't be her...that CAN'T be her. NO. NO. NO. A team of people had surrounded this person, doing what they could to revive this life. A man stood at her head with a bag between his hands...squeeze; pause; squeeze; pause; squeeze. Her lung protruding from the her left side. A doctor reaching into this crevace and physically pumping the heart, which had actually stopped just moments before.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
A pale, seemingly lifeless person laying before me tubes going in every direction...I see holes in her body, but where is the blood? Maybe my mind tricked me into NOT seeing any, I don't know. For some reason, all I saw was how milky her skin seemed in comparison to the caramel that usually covered this effervescent woman. There was no smile on her face. Only a blankness that only raises fears in the ones that love her. The doctors continued to work...I walked out. I could not see my mother in this way. I didn't want to watch what could be the end...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Comforting each other...we all huddled against the walls of the hallway on our ward. We had heard that she had been taken to surgery. We had also caught wind of the fact that they had to crack her chest (which I witnessed, but did not compute at the time). Breakdowns were already occurring, including myself as we all knew too well the outcome of this procedure. There had only been 1 person (out of tens to hundreds of people they have cracked the chest on) that survived. Now we wait...we hope...we pray.
Tuesday...July the 1oth, 2007.
They allowed us to view her before the Angel Flight. Because of all the work they had done on her trying to save her, we were only able to view her head. Everything else was covered, respectfully. We, as a unit...as a family...stood around her, encircled in prayer. We asked God to use her to her potential, and to give her the task of watching over us. One by one we said our goodbyes. I leaned over her face, my hands placed to her cheeks, forehead to forehead, and promised her that I would not let her down in M3 school. I told her that I loved her as a mother, and was glad to have known her for this time.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Later that evening, we were given the honor of putting our friend, our mother, our Captain onto the helicopter that would take her home to her family. The four of us, NCOIC, Hollywood, Des, and myself poised ourselves as we lifted the litter that carried her. We hoisted in unison, and carried her from the morgue to the "gator" (a golf cart-like vehicle). We slowly walked beside her on the gator as we approached the helipad. The individuals that made up our ward were lined up on each side of the street, to create a hallway which we would travel between to the helicopter. As we passed, each and everyone raised their right hands to the corner of their brows in SALUTE to their fallen comrade. We four lift her from the gator and transfer her to the helicopter that is to be her wings.
We all joined the rest of the hospital at the edge of the helipad...standing at Attention, until the birds lift off. When her Blackhawk lifts towards the sky, crisp salutes domino through the crowd paying respect.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007....was the day we had to say goodbye to one of the purest of hearts, the most influential, the most loving of individuals. Farewell, and may God keep you safe.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Why did it have to happen to us? Why did WE have to lose someone in this war? We are supposed to be PRESERVING the fighting strength...and yet we have to suffer loss too? Why? We even take care of the enemies! You wonder if they even KNOW that! And yet...they still target us.
Tuesday....July the 10th, 2007.
Another day of combatives...sweat pouring from my pores as I change clothes after a session of grappling with the boys. We all were laughing...joking about who choked who out, or who got what submission hold on whom. Then...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
That's when the mortars started landing. Were they mortars? Or was it just a garbage truck banging an empty receptacle against it's worn, beaten steel exterior? Hard to tell these days...but the thunderous booms only grew louder. This only means that they are landing CLOSER. Fear set into ALL of our bodies, showing in each of our eyes. We all smeared ourselves on the floor AND against the wall, trying to stay away from windows...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
We have heard 7...even 15 at times...but this time, this time there were more. At least 25 and counting, we wondered if it would stop. We stared at each other. Afraid that we weren't really safe in the building where we lay, but we stay still...waiting.
Tuesday....July the 10th, 2007.
After what seemed to be hours...but was only 20-25 minutes, we heard the "Big Voice" say, "All Clear! All Clear!" We picked ourselves up off the floor, and gathered our rifles, pistols and belongings. We had ended our session anyway, so heading back to the hospital was our next step. We hesitantly set foot outside and make our way back...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Walking up to the front gate I notice a trail of blood...a worn shoe, tattered...a bloody shirt, ripped and lying alone in the street. Where is the person that should be wearing these things? He...she...must be inside. Half a dozen individuals stand at the gate, waiting for treatment...bloodied and scared. I could see it in their eyes; the fear.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Our group had dissipated as we entered the grounds of the Combat Support Hospital. We each went to our supporting areas. A fellow soldier, "Hollywood", and I made our way to our ward. We were greeted with heavy hearts, and tear-filled eyes. I didn't know what was wrong...half of me didn't WANT to know. 1LT VB tells me, "She's in the ER...she's (sobbing) been hit...(sobbing)...."
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
My disbelief overtakes my anger and I head toward the Emergency Room. I trot down the steps, and turn the corner only to find more people being treated in the hallway. We had run out of room in the actual ER to take care of all the wounded. My leader...my NCOIC...my mentor showed up at the same time I did and we both washed our hands and donned gloves, thinking we could possibly help...if need be. We were directed to where she was being worked on.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
I walked into the Trauma Room, and my knees became weak. Was I really seeing what I was seeing? Were my eyes playing tricks on me? That can't be her...that CAN'T be her. NO. NO. NO. A team of people had surrounded this person, doing what they could to revive this life. A man stood at her head with a bag between his hands...squeeze; pause; squeeze; pause; squeeze. Her lung protruding from the her left side. A doctor reaching into this crevace and physically pumping the heart, which had actually stopped just moments before.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
A pale, seemingly lifeless person laying before me tubes going in every direction...I see holes in her body, but where is the blood? Maybe my mind tricked me into NOT seeing any, I don't know. For some reason, all I saw was how milky her skin seemed in comparison to the caramel that usually covered this effervescent woman. There was no smile on her face. Only a blankness that only raises fears in the ones that love her. The doctors continued to work...I walked out. I could not see my mother in this way. I didn't want to watch what could be the end...
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Comforting each other...we all huddled against the walls of the hallway on our ward. We had heard that she had been taken to surgery. We had also caught wind of the fact that they had to crack her chest (which I witnessed, but did not compute at the time). Breakdowns were already occurring, including myself as we all knew too well the outcome of this procedure. There had only been 1 person (out of tens to hundreds of people they have cracked the chest on) that survived. Now we wait...we hope...we pray.
Tuesday...July the 1oth, 2007.
They allowed us to view her before the Angel Flight. Because of all the work they had done on her trying to save her, we were only able to view her head. Everything else was covered, respectfully. We, as a unit...as a family...stood around her, encircled in prayer. We asked God to use her to her potential, and to give her the task of watching over us. One by one we said our goodbyes. I leaned over her face, my hands placed to her cheeks, forehead to forehead, and promised her that I would not let her down in M3 school. I told her that I loved her as a mother, and was glad to have known her for this time.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007.
Later that evening, we were given the honor of putting our friend, our mother, our Captain onto the helicopter that would take her home to her family. The four of us, NCOIC, Hollywood, Des, and myself poised ourselves as we lifted the litter that carried her. We hoisted in unison, and carried her from the morgue to the "gator" (a golf cart-like vehicle). We slowly walked beside her on the gator as we approached the helipad. The individuals that made up our ward were lined up on each side of the street, to create a hallway which we would travel between to the helicopter. As we passed, each and everyone raised their right hands to the corner of their brows in SALUTE to their fallen comrade. We four lift her from the gator and transfer her to the helicopter that is to be her wings.
We all joined the rest of the hospital at the edge of the helipad...standing at Attention, until the birds lift off. When her Blackhawk lifts towards the sky, crisp salutes domino through the crowd paying respect.
Tuesday...July the 10th, 2007....was the day we had to say goodbye to one of the purest of hearts, the most influential, the most loving of individuals. Farewell, and may God keep you safe.
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