Memorial Day Thoughts 2014

I am thinking about the dead on this weekend.  Specifically, those who died in our country's military service in war and conflict.  I am not an uninterested observer, as these were my brothers and sisters in arms. But I am not directly affected either, as none of my shipmates, battle buddies and friends have died in combat, for which I am thankful.  But I have been thinking about some that slept in the same camp I did, walked the same broken paths, ate at the same DFAC, used the same gym.  During my tour in Kabul, eight USAF personnel and one contractor were killed by an ANA Air Corps Colonel on 27 April 2011.  This was one of the so-called Green on Blue attacks, which heightened tensions and eroded trust with our ANA allies.  It also led to actual tactical pistol training, as some of the after action reports stated that none of those killed drew their weapons.  It was a bit of a shock around Camp Eggers.  Although we had heard of these types of attacks, it was rarely something we briefed to our teams before leaving base.  We changed some of our policies after that, strictly enforcing a buddy system on ANA bases, and getting our sailors range time to maintain weapons skills.  It changed our perceptions of disagreements and arguments with the ANA.  It left me a little twitchy for a while.  What I remember most though is some guilt and sadness.  These people lived on the same relatively small base.  I am sure I walked past them at some point, but I did not recognize a single face from the photos.  The sad thing is that with almost 3000 people on that base, and regular traffic from the Embassy and ISAF HQ, most faces of people you didn't know faded into the crowd.  I am sorry I didn't get to know them before they fell.  I am sorry I wasn't there to fight beside them in their last moments.  Farewell shipmates.

Here are links to some articles with the casualty list:
http://www.airforcetimes.com/article/20110429/NEWS/104290302/DoD-identifies-8-killed-Kabul-shooting
http://www.airforcemag.com/features/personnel/pages/box050911airmen.aspx

Here are some other links to the incident:  http://www.longwarjournal.org/archives/2011/04/afghan_pilot_kills_8.php#
http://abcnews.go.com/International/afghan-pilot-disarmed-killed-americans-argument/story?id=13468438
http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/asia_pacific/air-force-advisers-remember-deadly-insider-attack-of-2011/2013/04/28/ec2fa5d4-b02a-11e2-9a98-4be1688d7d84_story.html (this one is a retrospective from last year)

Only 5 days later, President Obama announced the capture and death of Osama Bin Laden.  I remember watching the scenes on TV and internet news reports.  Other than a few high fives and probably a few America, Fuck Yeahs, we just kept doing our jobs.  An important milestone was reached, but we knew that America was committed to staying in Afghanistan through 2014.  That raid was amazing, and although there were a few near misses, we lost no one.

Just three months after Osama's death,  we lost over 30 people in one helicopter shoot down, including members of Naval Special Warfare Development Group.  One of my battle buddies read the casualty list and realized he personally knew almost every SEAL on that helicopter.  It was terrible to watch him deal with that, knowing there was nothing I could say or do to help.  He had also lost one of his brothers to a terrible accident in June.

Extortion 17 shoot down:
http://www.foxnews.com/world/2011/08/06/afghan-president-31-americans-killed-in-helicopter-crash/
http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/world/afghanistan/2011-08-06-nato-helicopter-crash_n.htm

It seems Death stalked us all that year.  It seemed I was always somewhere else when it struck out at our forces, but it finally found a member of my family.  A week after the helicopter shoot down, I received a Red Cross message indicating my father-in-law voluntarily ceased dialysis and cancer treatments and was expected to die in 1-2 weeks.  I was granted emergency leave and had priority travel out of Afghanistan (only wounded service members got out faster than me).  I was in Flint, Michigan in less than 48 hours, after passing through Al-Udeid, London, and Chicago.  I lost my luggage and had to buy clothes on the way to my in-laws house.  I actually beat my wife and kids there.  About a week after I arrived, this old warrior fought his final battle with cancer, laid down his arms and breathed his last.

In Memoriam, James Washington Crichton:  http://obits.mlive.com/obituaries/flint/obituary.aspx?pid=153282117

Somewhat grim after good weather, good food and time with friends and family.  Hope you have no tragedies to ponder in your own lives this Memorial Day.

Memorial Day Poem 2014

For this year's Memorial Day poem, here are the lyrics for Sgt. Mckenzie, from the We Were Soldiers soundtrack.  My favorite song from one of my favorite war movies.

Sgt. Mckenzie
by Joseph Kilna Mckenzi
In memory of Sgt. Charles Stuart MacKenzie, Seaforth Highlanders

Original Scottish Version

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

When they come a wull staun ma groon

Staun ma groon al nae be afraid

Thoughts awe hame tak awa ma fear

Sweat an bluid hide ma veil awe tears

Ains a year say a prayer faur me

Close yir een an remember me

Nair mair shall a see the sun

For a fell tae a Germans gun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun


English Translation

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

When they come I will stand my ground

Stand my ground I’ll not be afraid

Thoughts of home take away my fear

Sweat and blood hide my veil of tears

Once a year say a prayer for me

Close your eyes and remember me

Never more shall I see the sun

For I fell to a Germans gun

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Where before many more have gone


Semper Fi, Corporal

I missed the announcement of the death of Cpl. Conner T. Lowry on 01 March 2012.  I found out after a friend posted to Facebook that she had just driven by his house.  I then saw a number of comments indicating people were lining up on streets in my old neighborhood in Chicago, waiting for the hearse to drive by.  Intrigued, I searched for more on the internet, starting with the official DoD announcement (linked in the title of this blog post).  I found quite a few people tweeting about him (https://twitter.com/#!/search/realtime/conner%20lowry).  As I read some of the linked articles, it really struck home.  I have been thinking about this all day.

They took him from Midway Airport (I almost always fly into Chicago via Midway).

They took him to Brother Rice High School, his alma mater and mine (class of '89 for me).  They played Taps for him there.

They took him to Saint John Fisher Parish on 102nd and Washtenaw, which is only a mile from the first house I lived in (behind Steuber's florist shop).

He was South Side Irish (to know us is to love/hate us).

He died in Helmand, Afghanistan.  I was there twice working with Marines and the ANA in 2011.  The husband of a good friend was in one of the most violent corners of Helmand last year, as was the brother of one of my comrades from the war.

There are so many shared experiences here, yet we never met.

His obituary: http://legacy.suntimes.com/obituaries/chicagosuntimes/obituary.aspx?n=conner-t-lowry&pid=156337797&fhid=2596

Some pictures from the motorcade: http://katieryanphotography.blogspot.com/2012/03/honoring-marine-corporal-conner-lowry.html

The Tribune article: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/chi-solemn-procession-for-fallen-marine-20120309,0,2653411.story

A hero left us.  I am sorry I will never get to meet him.  Stand relieved, Marine.  We have the watch now.

Military Service, War and Death

In case you have been isolated from all communications, you have probably heard about the helicopter crash in Afghanistan that took 38 lives on 06 August 2011 (ISAF press release).  There were 8 Afghan nationals onboard, while the remainder were US special operations forces, mostly from the US Navy SEALs.  This was one of the largest single day losses for the US military and the largest single day loss of special operations forces.  More SOF operators were killed last Saturday than were killed during Operation Redwing (see my blog post on Marcus Luttrell's book Lone Survivor).  This is a painful event.  So far, it has not directly affected me.  I am a huge fan of the SOF community, but I only know a few that have worked in it.  I did not know these warriors personally.  Still, it is becoming indirectly painful, as I am seeing what happens to friends and comrades when 20-30 people they knew suddenly die.  I won't even begin to speculate what this event or the continuing press coverage is doing to the families of the deceased. I only hope what I am writing does not add to their misery.

At times like this, I reflect on my choice to serve, and the choices made by others who have made the ultimate sacrifice.  I still have no regrets.  I joined the military precisely because I felt called to serve my country in war.  Others are called to serve in other, less violent and more constructive ways, but I have always heard the siren call of Mars (Ares), Valkyries, and the Morrigan.  I don't think anyone joins seeking violent death (I didn't).  Most would probably choose to die at a ridiculous old age due to sexual exertion (or killed by a jealous lover).  Yet, few join without some understanding that those who go to war due so at some risk to themselves.

The politicians that want us to keep fighting and those that want us to quit fighting will find ways to use this event to support their views.  Boeing will try to explain why these ancient Chinooks are safe, while their competitors will argue for new airframes.  Others will say that the helos will be safe once some expensive piece of technology is added to the aircraft.  The Air Assault guys and helicopter pilots will argue that the birds and their associated tactics are the only way to fight this war.  Others will demand ground assaults, or an even faster withdrawal.

Ignore them all.  Here is what matters.  Thirty eight individuals got on that helicopter to do their job.  They chose to serve their countries in a time of death and danger, rather than settle for a safe place with their families.  Their reasons for joining, for staying, for getting on the helo that night, were no doubt somewhat different for each.  Unless they shared their thoughts with family and friends, we will never know their reasons.  They served faithfully until the day they fell in battle.  Remember them.  Honor their memories.  Help their families.  Support those who would follow in their footsteps.  If you have it in you, step forward and serve your nation for a time.

Quiz Results

A friend sent me some links to some fun online quizzes, well fun if something is missing in your moral center anyway.

Here is how I did:
Five year olds beware:
24

It's clobberin' time! 'Nuff said.

Lunar survival skills:
56%

56%? I feel shame in my emotion processing unit. I should change my user name. My only solace is that I disagree with some of the choices.

My geek percentage:
74% Geek

I took the Death Report quiz and found that 131,367 People Died the Day I was Born. Less than I would have thought.

In addition to my life insurance, apparently my survivors could sell my corpse for:
$4305.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth.

And finally, since I have written about zombies before, here are my chances for the infamous zombie apocalypse scenario:
75%

Free California Dating

Goodbye, Dad

So where were we? Oh yeah, the toilet had exploded on 12 DEC 2005. Shortly after attempting to mitigate the flooding coming out of the bathroom (if you have recently moved, you have lots of cardboard boxes, which make great carpet runner to cover up wet, shit soaked carpeting on a temporary basis), I called the property management hotline and left a scathing message. I thne returned to the computer room to attempt to set up the wireless network once more. Just as I got there the phone rang. An old friend of the family was on the phone and asked how I was doing. I was about to relay the story of the toilet, when she interrupted me and said my dad was in the hospital. The first thing I thought was car accident, but instead I was told he was sick all weekend and went into the hospital that morning. He was apparently in the ICU and getting blood transfusions due to internal bleeding. Mom's cell phone was dead and there wasn't a phone in the room, so the family friend was tasked with tracking me down.

Long pause as brain readjusts to the change in reality.

Thanks to the internet and the entire US government-industry partnership in aerospace, I was able to procure a ticket back home to Chicago leaving at 0630 the next morning. Spent the next little while packing, emailing boss and coworkers and worrying without useful data. Emailed my mom to let her know I was heading into town. Emailed my network of Chicago based friends to let them know what was happening. Worried but had no data to either calm myself or confirm my worries. Got a couple of hours of sleep, then drove to the airport.

Side note ot airports everywhere: If you are open for business (airplanes taking off and landing), your coffee and food vendors should be open for business as well. I do not function well on 2 hours sleep with no coffee. People near me are at risk of getting their heads chopped off with a single blow from the edge of my hand. This is the real national security issue facing our air transport system today.

Back to me having a bad day. Normally, I do not tend to sleep well on airplanes or in cars. I just have fundamental trust issues when someone else is in control of the vehicle. If you have this problem, may I suggest avoiding all but a couple of hours sleep and skipping caffeine intake for the day? I was unconcious for most of the flight.

Got to Chi-town, picked up the rental car, drove at best speed out to the family office where my mom was waiting (difficult in morning rush hour traffic). More disturbing news. Dad had received on the order of 4-5 units of blood over night. He was still unconcious. One of his doctor's phoned my mom and told her to rescind her request for extraordinary measures. Apparently, Dad had been diagnosed with cirrhosis of liver and the doctor said 5 years was a great run. No doctor had seen fit to mention this to my mom over the last 5 years. It is amazing how a portion of your brain can sit and be extremely angry, but also totally compartmentalized so you can function normally.

So we make the journey to the hospital and I get to see my Dad for the first time in several months. It's bad. It's about the worst thing I have ever seen. Dad looked already dead. He was plugged into about 3 iv pumps for different drugs as well as saline solution, all aimed at keeping his blood pressure up high enough to maintain life. He had a tube coming out of his throat that was sucking blood out of his stomach and dumping it into a small bucket (I am sure there is a fancy medical term for this, but let's just call it a bucket of blood). It was full. They had him on a respirator to help him breathe. It was set for about 14 breaths per minute and it registered about 28, so some part of Dad was still alive and trying to breath on his own, but it was very labored. His skin was like ice and his limbs were stiff from the effects of the blood pressure medication. Heart rate was low (below 60). Blood pressure kept dropping and they tried to up the dosage on the drugs, but they were near the maximum dosage. I never saw a single one of his doctors, or any doctor for that matter. I guess those fuckers were playing golf or something and did not have time to visit one of their oldest patients as he lay dying. Doctors suck. They are dead to me.

We stayed with him for a few hours. Do you know that nurses seem to be incapable of saying that someone is dying? They used some really stupid euphemisms. His soul is trying to go to heaven. Huh? Are we in a hospital or a church? Is heaven on the 8th floor near radiology? What the hell is wrong with these people? This crap is not comforting. All we needed was a straight answer (yes, he is dying, no there is no hope, I am sorry). That way we could get our heads around the problem, accept it and try to deal with the emotional fallout. Eventually, we left for a while. It was obvious he was dying, so we made arrangements with a funeral home and a church. Started calling relatives to get them ready, etc. We remembered to eat, which was good. Then we went back to the hospital for the death watch.

I have stood watches on a warship at sea. I have sat in a hospital awaiting the birth of a child (and watched and helped out as much as a man can in such circumstances). I have waited on the results of job interviews and school exams. Nothing compares to waiting for someone you love to die while knowing there is nothing left to do but watch. Dad never regained conciousness. Part of me is still convinced that his brain and mind were gone sometime the previous night. We asked the nurses to stop giving him the blood pressure medication. His blood pressure dropped so low that the automated sensor had trouble measuring it. His heart rate was getting so slow that the machine kept calling out a code that the nurses had to cancel. His breath rate dropped to the setting on the respirator. It seemed that was all that was keeping the body going. We asked the nurses to remove the respirator. They told us we had to speak to the chaplain. Apparently they do double duty as lawyers. It turned out we needed some sort of living will or durable power of attorney, which we did not have. Now, if any of those fucking doctor's had shown up, they could have written orders to remove the respirator, but it was now night time, so no doubt they were out having a few drinks somewhere instead of helping one of their patients. We were stunned. Dad was only hanging on because of the respirator. How much longer would we have to watch? All of the sudden, while we were arguing the insanity of the situation with the hospital chaplain, the nurse pointed to the screen and said he was gone. We all looked. Flatline. Just like on tv and in the movies. A straight line for the pulse sensor with an annoying extended beep. I almost expected to hear someone yell out "Charge paddles to 20, clear!". The nurse turned off the monitor and we left the room while the pulled out tubes and electrodes and everything else. After he was cleaned up, we went in and said goodbye. Then we filled out paperwork and went home.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. We waked him on 16 DEC 2006 and held his funeral on the 17th. I was a pall bearer, even though some told me that I was supposed to stand with my Mom. Somehow, I couldn't let others carry my Dad in my place. Since it was winter, we just delivered his coffin to the graveyard chapel. Too bloody cold to dig a grave. At least without heavy equipment. I stayed a few days to help out and then flew back to Texas.

I should mention that my pregnant wife came up with our 1 year old son to help me through the week after Dad died. Amazing what women will do for you.

I should also say that my best friend, known in this realm as Equalitist, stood by me through the death watch and through the week that followed. All of my friends came to the wake and funeral. Thank you all for your support.

I miss fighting with my Dad on the phone....