The Daily Grind

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

A Test of Faith

The evening was warm, virtually indistinguishable from the night before. It was the fall of 2005, just a month away from the first national elections in post-Saddam Iraq. A dozen young Marines relaxed inside the open porch of the Oasis, a crude plywood shack that served as chapel, watering hole and gathering spot for the Marines of Regimental Combat Team 8 aboard Camp Workhorse, a small "warrior base" nestled inside the larger confines of Camp Fallujah, Iraq. Amid the haze of half-smoked cigars and cigarettes, a single officer sat quielty, listening to the ebb and flow of conversation, knowing full well the good humor belied the events experienced by the Marines of the RCT over the previous days and weeks.

United States Navy CDR Dale C. White, then-Chaplain for RCT-8, 2nd Marine Division (forward) had become a father figure to most, a man whom many Marines would seek for guidance, comfort and encouragement. Despite his rank, the cross on his collar made him the most approachable officer in the battalion, which the Commander understood as one of the most important aspects of his job. From the moment he'd arrived in Iraq, Chaplain White knew his duties were much more involved than simply providing spiritual services. "I had probably 150 Marines from 8th Marine Regiment when I was at Camp Lejeune,” recalled White, a New York native. “Now I'm the pastor for 1200 Marines, because of all of our attachments (to include) tanks, tracks, the batteries, counter-battery, CEB...none of them came here with a chaplain. That was a surprise to me. I'm doing far more counseling, marriage counseling, coping with combat stress and those types of things, than I had expected." White waved at a young Marine strolling past, a freshly filled coffee mug in hand. "We've got an ongoing coffee mess from 0530 on," White says in response to the passerby. "We started brewing just one pot of coffee a day, now we're up to about twenty." Like many other men of the cloth, CDR White quickly became a shoulder to lean on, a man who'd listen without interruption, an officer whom junior Marines felt comfortable approaching despite the rank on his collar. "To realize someone (of such) rank is here to care for them," says White, "is a blessing. Here at the battalion, there's no bad time to talk. Come in whenever you want. If it's two in the morning, my RP (religious perogram specialist) will come and get me."

Since the creation of the first Continental Navy, chaplains have honorably served the United States Naval forces . Strictly noncombatants, they carry no weapons and are virtually forbidden to engage hostile forces. They include, but are not limited to Roman Catholics, Methodists, Lutherans, Baptists, and Protestants, as well as those of the Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist and Muslim faiths. Normally accompanied by an enlisted religious program specialist, or RP, they serve in every major Marine Corps unit at home and overseas. Inevitably, serving chaplains have died in action, sometimes in significant numbers. The U.S. Army and Marines lost 100 chaplains killed in action during WWII, a casualty rate greater per capita than any other branch of the services except the infantry and the Army Air Corps. Many have been decorated for bravery in action (five have won Britain's highest award for gallantry, the Victoria Cross). The Chaplain's Medal for Heroism is a special U.S. military decoration given to military chaplains who have been killed in the line of duty, although it has to date only been awarded to the famous Four Chaplains, all of whom died in the USAT Dorchester sinking in 1943 after giving up their lifejackets to others. (1)

Over the last 4 years, Operation Iraqi Freedom has offered no exception to the dangers facing today's Navy chaplains. Captain Bryan Weaver, former Division chaplain for the Second Marine Division (Fwd), Camp Fallujah, Iraq in 2006, commented on the effects of combat on Marines and Sailors who've served in Iraq. "Men who come out to a combat zone either find their faith or they lose their faith. Most Marines who come to a combat zone will use the opportunity to do a lot of soul searching. Even I do that. It's a great opportunity for reflection…and for honing our spiritual disciplines and spiritual direction. That's what I bring to the table as Division chaplain - I provide spiritual direction to the Regimental chaplains, who in turn to do so for the battalions." Reflecting upon his own experience in Iraq, Weaver continued. "When a chaplain goes out to a forward firm base or the front lines, the morale increases. We bring a sense of hope and stability to the Marines. It really encourages the Marines...it provides a sense of home (to them). It's important to be seen, not holed up behind a desk somewhere.” Captain Weaver paused, searching for an appropriate explanation. “It's leadership by example. I subscribe to MBWA - ministry by walking about. Men need encouragement. They feed off of that. Life out here is hard. A chaplain brings intangibles to the table - enthusiasm, attitude, spirituality. You can't put your hand on it, but you know when it's present."

Weaver's view of chaplains at war echoed the sentiments of New York Times best selling author Stephen Mansfield, who commented on the state of the military chaplains during a 2005 interview with the National Review online. Remarking on the progress they've made over the last three decades, Mansfield stated "Military chaplains are not chosen according to a denominational quota system as they were during the Vietnam era. They are chosen according to a “best qualified” standard. This means that the chaplains serving today are deeply committed to ministering to the fighting man and woman and have met very high standards for entrance into the corps. Some of them are even decorated warriors themselves who left the military and then returned as chaplains. They are doing a hard job gloriously." (2)

Doing a hard job gloriously came easy to LT William Stewart. Assigned to the II Marine Expeditionary Force (Fwd) in 2005-2006, LT William Stewart found himself ministering primarily to US Navy Seabees assigned to the tactical movement teams (TMT) of Naval Marine Construction Battalion 22. Originally enlisting in the Navy in 1984, Chaplain Stewart served as a religious program specialist for 5 years on active duty before entering the Naval reserves in 1989. Following the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, Stewart applied for the US Navy Chaplain Corps and was subsequently assigned as Chaplain to his former unit, NMCB-22. "A lot of the duties are typical of what you think a Chaplain would be doing," stated Stewart. "I provide services, bible studies, prayer meetings and counseling. (In Iraq), I also do a lot of what I call movement prayers for TMT's, basically convoy escorts. You never know when there's going to be a convoy leaving the wire. I try to do a prayer before each of these if I'm available. It doesn't matter what time they leave, day or night, because I found that it really comforts folks to have that prayer.” LT Stewart smiles, recalling the reactions of his sailors. “Goodness, the stories of people coming up to me, saying "Chaps, I know that prayer saved us today"... is very humbling to me, because I don't feel like I have that much power. But I guess that person I'm praying to upstairs - hopefully, he did see them through - they believe in that, they trust in that; it gives them confidence."

Despite their commonalities in faith, the chaplains of OIF hail from a wide variety of backgrounds. LT Brian Crittendon was a former Marine Corps CH-46 pilot in the early 1980’s. Resigning his commission in 1985 to become a civilian chaplain, he spent 13 years as a civilian pastor before deciding to return to the military. In 2004, LT Crittendon reported to the Second Marine Division at Camp Lejeune, only this time in the uniform of a sailor, not a Marine. Deploying to Iraq in 2005, LT Crittendon set up shop inside a derelict rail car at the abandoned Al Qaim train station, commonly referred to as the “soul train” by resident Marines. Ministering to the men of 3rd Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment, Chaplain Crittendon faced one of his toughest days in November, 2005 when an insurgent ambush wounded 12 Marines and killed 4 of their comrades from 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment. Rushing to the forward rescuscitative surgical suite (FRSS), Chaplain Crittendon prayed over the dead and wounded. “I had two primary roles while I was down there. One was to minister to those who were hurt...to make contact with them, pray with them, encourage them and to bring them as much comfort (to them) as I can. The other is to keep an eye on the staff and to be a presence there (for) the spiritual encouragement of the staff." Crittendon continued. "There were points where I was putting my arms around surgeons and nurses and technicians who were having a long day....we stopped and I held prayer for everybody who was involved." Crittendon recalled the moment the Regimental Commander walked into the FRSS, encouraging his wounded Marines as surgeons struggled to save a fellow Marine who ultimately passed away from his wounds. "I view these men as being, in a sense, ministers to their country," said Crittendon of the Marines with whom he serves. "They have a mission...they've been called as much to their job as a warrior as I've been called to be a minister." Crittendon quickly changed the topic with a lighter comment . "The good news story for me, especially as a minister, (was when) a young man found his faith and asked me to baptize him a few hundred yards from the Syrian border, with his company...it will always be a highlight (for me) as a Christian minister."

Evey chaplain who experiences combat ministry comes away with a greater appreciation for the men and women they serve. "There's no doubt that being in combat, with rounds coming and IED's going off, that those Marines have a very different life than sailors on a ship," explains Chaplain White of RCT-8. "It's life or death (here). Whereas I can go on a cruise and come back with everyone alive, that's not the case here. There is definitely a level of committment and a level of risk that far exceeds anything we've had on a carrier.

Even though you could lose your life on a flight deck very easily, the rubber meets the road here.

1. Wikipedia Online - Military Chaplains
2. NRO - God and Man on the Front Lines, a Q&A by Kathryn Lopez, May 27, 2005

Thursday, February 01, 2007

A Coveted Award

The famous French Emperor and General Napolean Bonaparte once declared "A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon." A European tradition usually reserved for royalty, the wearing of medals was uncommon among US Military pesonnel until the late 19th century, when civil war soldiers were awarded unofficial badges by local commanders, a practice later formalized by the services as a means to recognize the bravery and accomplishments of a military service member.

Having fallen out of favor since the civil war, the practice of beestowing unofficial awards upon deserving Marines has never completely disappeared. An number of unoffical decorations have been awarded to Marines over the last century, signifying a shared experience or common bond that will never be formally recognized by our Corps. Despite their unofficial status, however, these awards are often more coveted than all others combined.

One such example is the George Medal. Legendary among 1st Marine Division veterans of Guadalcanal, only about 50 were cast in Australia before the mold gave out. According to retired Marine Col. Brooke Nihart, a Navy Cross recipient and historian who recently passed away in August, 2006, the George medal commemorated the difficult situation of the division during the early days on Guadalcanal, when ammunition, food, and heavy equipment were short and the Japanese plentiful. The Marines faced increasing Japanese air attacks and surface action which left the division in a tight spot.

In the recollection of then-Captain Donald L. Dickson, adjutant of the 5th Marines, the Division G-3, then-Lieutenant Colonel Merrill B. Twining, resolved to commemorate the occasion. Twining told Captain Dickson, an aspiring artist, what he had in mind. Captain Dickson went to work designing an appropriate medal using a fifty-cent piece to draw a circle on a captured Japanese blank military postcard.

When the division departed Gudalcanal and finally reached Australia, a mold was made by a local metal craftsman and a small number were cast before the mold became unserviceable. Those wanting a medal paid one Australian pound for it and received a certificate as well. The medals are now an even greater rarity than at the time. In recent years, reproductions have been cast, and can be identified by the different metal and a poor definition of details.

The obverse design of the medal shows a hand and sleeve dropping a hot potato in the shape of Guadalcanal into the arms of a grateful Marine. In the original design, the sleeve bore the stripes of a vice admiral, intended to be either Vice Admiral Robert L. Ghormley, ComSoPac, or Vice Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, Commander Joint Expeditionary Force, but the final medal diplomatically omitted this identification.

Also on the obverse is a saguaro cactus, indigenous to Arizona, not Guadalcanal, but representing the code name for the island, "Cactus." The obverse inscription if Facia Georgius, "Let George Do It." Thus it became known as the George Medal. The medal's reverse is inscribed: "In fond remembrance of the happy days spent from Aug. 7th 1942 to Jan. 5th 1943. U.S.M.C."

Much like Lieutenant Colonel Twining, US Marine Corps Major Joe Winslow hoped to commemorate his wartime experience. However, Major Winslow's would occur nearly 60 years later in 2004, far away from the island of Guadalcanal. Instead of water and jungle, he was surrounded by sand, and the enemy were not Japanese. They were insurgents and were battling Marines of I MEF (Fwd) on the streets of Fallujah.

As the MEF slowly pushed through the city, then-Captain Winslow recalled the unique, historical significance of the George Medal and was inspired to create a similar award for his fellow Marines who'd already served or would soon serve in the billet of Field Historian during Operation Iraqi Freedom. A unique, independent position carried out by only one or two Marines at a time, the Field Historians traveled throughout the theater, recording the oral histories of Marines engaged in combat operations and combat service support, while simultaneously collecting documents and artifacts for archiving at the Gray Research Center and the National
Museum of the Marine Corps in Quantico.

Captain Winslow hand sculpted his concept in plaster, pouring a firing mold from concrete and other materials found at the MEF headquarters. The medals' design was based upon an Iraqi army badge, with a Marine Corps eagle, globe and anchor super-imposed on a Persian star, surrounded by palm fronds. The colors of the suspending ribbon are scarlet, black and silver, which respectively represent the blood of Marines shed in OIF, the lives given in support of their fellow Marines, and the Field Historian's fidelity to history. Captain Winslow's first prototype was cast in Fallujah using silver sent from a texas silversmith. The remaining
versions were later cast at home by a Marine Corps Guadalcanal veteran.

Dubbed the Military Order of St. Nicholas, the medal was presented by Major Winslow to 13 Field Historians during their 231st Marine Corps Bithday celebration in Fredricksburg, VA, all of whom had previously deployed to Iraq is support of the Global War on Terrorism. Each recipient received a certificate which declared them a "companion" in the Order. The award was named after Colonel Nicolas Reynolds, the former Commanding Officer of the Marine Corps Field History Unit who assembled the first team of Marine Corps Field Historians to deploy to Iraq. Since the start of OIF, approximately 15 Marine Corps Field Historians have deployed to Iraq.

Like the George Medal, the Military Order of St. Nicolas will be shared by a finite group of people for a limited period of time. Worn only at events or gathering attended by members and of the Field History detachment, the Military Order of St. Nicolas will forever serve as a reminder of time spent in the Al Anbar Province of Iraq, watching and recording history in the making.

The George Medal Information was obtained directly from a US Marine Corps Historical Division WWII Publication on Guadalcanal.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

The Men and Their Stories - Wounded Part 4 (Final)

Although the majority of the Camp Lejeune wounded warriors claim the title "Marine," a few of the residents prefer the nickname "Doc." Hospitalman first class (HM1) Glenn Minney is one of the few sailors who've come to call the wounded warrior barracks their home. A Navy reservist, Minney enlisted in 1985. "Doc" Minney was activated and deployed to Iraq in January, 2005. While serving with 3rd Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment, he was wounded by mortar shrapnel while standing atop the Haditha Dam, a 10 story high facility that serves as a Forward Operating Base for Marines and Corpsman stationed near the Euphrates River Valley. "It was a typical, hot day in Iraq. I had to go out to one of the CONEX boxes to get supplies for the Battalion Aid Station...and the dam came under mortar attack. I was out on the 10th deck on a catwalk and a mortar round went off about 30 feet in front of me." HM1 Minney remembered running back inside the dam, the unit going to General Quarters as four additional rounds exploded near the dam. At the time, he did not know he was injured. "My vision was a little blurry and I had a severe headache, but I didn't think much of it," Minney stated. The next day, however, his eyes started bothring him, and he began receiving treatments for pink-eye. Unknown to the "Doc", however, both retinas in his eyes had become detached from the concussion of the blast. Blood vessels had ruptured, allowing the vitrouse fluids to leak from his eyes. "I started developing tunnel vision, and it was slowly closing in, becoming pinpoint. I talked to my Battalion Surgeon, and sat him down in private and told him 'I am going blind'." Medevac'd to Al Asad, then to Balad, an opthamologist recommended immediate evacuation to Hamburg, Germany for surgery. His first surgery lasted 3 hours, and he received two more operations before heading home to the United States. On September 2, 2005, while convalescing at home, his vision again went black and he required additional emergency surgery. Still on active duty orders, he was offered the opportunity to move into the wounded warrior barracks in the fall of 2005. "At times, you can't talk to your spouse, your mother, your father, friends, about things they've never been exposed to. Being around people who've been there, and having the medical facility...that's the benefit to having the wounded warrior program. Care is first priorty, whether it be mental, physical or social - we go out of our way to hit all those avenues."

Monday, October 23, 2006

The Men and Their Stories - Wounded Part 3

LCpl. Peter Dmitruk, an 0311 with Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment, arrived at the Wounded Warrior barracks in September, 2005. Having graduated from boot camp less than one year earlier, he returned to Camp Lejeune with a career's worth of experience. Deployed to the Syrian border in the summer of 2005, LCpl. Dmitruk became accustomed to the daily grind of snap vehicle check points, presence patrols and security patrols around town. Having just returned from patrol to his company's battle position, he was reaching into his pack which he'd tossed atop the hescoe barrier that provided cover for him and his fellow Marines. "A mortar had fallen pretty close...I didn't hear the mortar, but I felt it. It felt like I kinda got punched. My arm flew up into my body. I looked down and it was mangled...kinda looked like it had gotten caught in a shredder. I could see the blood, which looked like arterial bleeding." A company corpsman laid him down and injected LCpl. Dmitruk with morphine. "I remember laying down on the stretcher, apologizing to everyone for getting hurt. I didn't want to leave." A medevac helicopter landed shortly thereafter and took him to the forward resuscitative surgical suite (FRSS) at FOB (forward operating base) Al Qaim. "I remember asking the Batalion Commander if I could stay...one of the medical officers (was) there; I could see he shook his head, so I knew I was going home. He said 'this is your time to heal, you've done what you can'." His injuries resulted in the introduction of a titanium plate into his arm, a necessity after losing nearly five inches of bone. Skin was grafted from his leg to cover the wounds and hasten the healing process. Following numerous surgeries, LCpl Dmitruk moved into the Wounded Warrior barracks in January, 2006 and has since realized the significance of living there, vice convalescing at home or in his unit's barracks. "I realized that when I'm here (in the wounded warrior barracks), healing is the number one priority...you'll always find a way to get to your appointments. That's the reason you're here, to heal and to get better."

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Men and Their Stories - Wounded Part 2

Born and raised in Augusta, Georgia, LCpl Phillip Tussey enlisted in the Marine Corps in October, 2003. His first duty assignment with Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment would prove to be his most memorable. Deployed to the city of Ramadi, Iraq in the winter of 2006, LCpl Tussey was on foot patrol in one of the most dangerous cities in Iraq when a sniper's bullet found its mark. "I felt something sting my leg. I tried to stand up...I fell to the ground, trying to get myself back up...I put my hand on my thigh and (pulling) my hand back, there was blood on my hand. I knew I'd been hit." The bullet had hit him inside his left thigh, 8 inches below his hip. Two fellow Marines picked up LCpl Tussey and put him in the back of a hardback HMMWV, his squad still under fire. Spent .50 cal cartiridges from the M-2 Browning machine gun atop the HMMWV turrent were hitting him in the face as the gunner provided covering fire to his squad. "They started medevac'ing me. There was only a driver and a gunner in there, so I picked up the radio and was calling the Staff Sergeant, telling him that we were up and that we needed to roll." Despite the pain from his shattered leg, LCpl Tussey remained conscious until he went into surgery at Charlie-med, Camp Ramadi's field surgical unit. Flying out of Ramadi the same evening, he traveled through Baghdad and Balad before flying to Germany, where he spent the following four days in a morphine induced haze. "They put a rod from my hip to my knee in my leg and two screws in my hip to hold the rod in place," described Tussey, who has endured numerous surgeries since his wounding. He's been at the Wounded Warrior barracks since June 28, 2005. "I can't really do much right now, because of the crutches," says LCpl Tussey, although he has not let his limited mobility keep him tied to the barracks. In July, 2006, he traveled to the National Naval Medical Center at Bethesda, MD with Lt. General Amos, former Commanding General of II MEF, to visit other wounded Marines and sailors returning from Iraq. Encountering a wounded Corpsman from own unit, Tussey recalled the Corpsman's comments upon seeing the unexpected visitors. "The (wounded) Corpsman that we knew couldn't thank us enough. He was so happy (to see us). He said 'you don't know what this means for y'all to come see me.' "

Friday, October 13, 2006

The Men and Their Stories - Wounded Part 1

Corporal Aaron M. Shareno deployed to Iraq on July 18, 2005 with 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment (2/2). Serving near the city of Karma, Iraq, Cpl. Shareno was 5 months into his deployment when he was wounded by a suicide vehicle-borne IED on December 14th, just 11 days before Christmas. His platoon had established fighting positions near a palm grove, approximately 25 meters from the edge of the road, when an insurgent drove his vehicle into the side of a 7 ton truck, detonating the explosives and instantly vaporizing the vehicle. The explosion sent shrapnel and chunks of metal through the air, knocking Cpl. Shareno and other Marines to the ground. "I got blown forward and a piece of shrapnel traveled through my palm and blew out the left matacarpal in my thumb - just shattered it," recalled Shareno. "When I got blown forward, I remember thinking I'm dead...I fell to my side and felt something was funny, not right...I saw my thumb drooping down...blood flowing out of my palm. It nicked two arteries in my hand. I put pressure on it below the wrist to stop the bleeding." Cpl. Shareno lauded the fast reaction of the Corpsman who treated him on the scene, but could not remember his name. "If I saw his face, I could recognize (him)", Shareno said. "He slapped a tournaquet on my hand...it was a unique experience." Medevac'd to Camp Fallujah Surgical, then ultimately to Balad and Germany before flying back to the United States, Cpl. Shareno regretted not being able to finish his deployment in Iraq. " I was a little shook up...more angry than anything...I (was) two months out (from leaving); ready to reenlist (when) I get hit. I just wanted to finish my pump, I wanted to reenlist and I wanted to continue on with my Marine Corps career." Now at the Wounded Warrior Barracks at Camp Lejeune, Cpl. Shareno is much less angry and is not letting his injuries get in the way of his career. "I plan on retiring from the Marine Corps," says Shereno. "I'm staying til I don't have fun anymore. Right now I'm having tons of fun."

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Wounded Warriors

In August, 2006, I had the honor of spending a week with 40 of our wounded Marines and sailors at the Wounded Warrior Barracks, Camp Lejeune, NC. All returned from Iraq sooner than expected, the result of a well-aimed sniper's bullet or the peppering blast of an IED. Despite their wounds, the Marines continue to march, all of them looking forward to the day they can join their comrades back in their old unit. Some, unfortunately, will never realize that dream, while others will return to duty for yet another tour in Iraq.

The photo shows Lieutenant General Amos (right), former Commanding General, II MEF, at the ribbon cutting ceremony of Maxwell Hall, the official designation for the wounded warrior barracks. LtCol Tim Maxwell, himself recovering from wounds in Iraq, stands atop the stairs with his wife and child. Tim is the mastermind behind the barracks concept and is owed credit for giving our wounded Marines a place they can call home during their recovery process. Here is my version of this success story:

Wounded Warriors

“My hands were in flames, and my whole face was in flames”, said Sgt. Jason Simms, recalling the fateful day in July, 2004 when his light armored vehicle was struck by the blast of an IED, or improvised explosive device. He was nearing the end of an 8 hour patrol with Delta Company, 2nd LAR Battalion, when his life changed forever.

“My hands suffered third degree burns…and my face took second degree burns. I took three bullets in the right leg, with shrapnel through my tendons and arteries” says Simms, sitting comfortably inside the II MEF wounded warrior barracks at Camp Lejeune, NC. Still recovering from his wounds, the Sergeant motions toward the passageway where Marines begin to congregate prior to their afternoon formation. “Everyone here has been wounded. I think the most important thing here is we were all wounded and we can all understand each other.”

The wounded warrior barracks is home to over 40 Marines and sailors of the II Marine Expeditionary Force, or II MEF. Located at Hospital Point aboard Camp Lejeune, the barracks formerly served as a bachelor officers quarters. In September, 2005, however, the BOQ was transformed into a home away from home for Marines and FMF corpsmen returning early from Iraq, their trip the courtesy of an Iraqi sniper or the blast of an IED. The newly renovated barracks provides the sailors and Marines a place to rehabilitate, allowing them to and focus on their medical needs rather than their next field evolution or unit training class.

The injured Marines and sailors are officially assigned to the Wounded Warrior Support Section, one of two sections comprised within the II MEF Injured Support Unit, or ISU. Established with the goal of tracking all injured II MEF service members and providing support to them and their immediate families, the ISU was developed in 2005, subsequent to a realization that some injured Marines and sailors were convalescing at home or within a variety of military and civilian medical centers, effectively cutting them off from their Marine Corps family.

Lieutenant General James F. Amos, former Commanding General of II MEF, recognized the need for a program that would track each and every wounded Marine and sailor coming home from the Middle East. Scribbling notes on personalized stationary, MajGen. Amos penned the following end state: "We will stay plugged in to every single wounded Marine who has been evacuated to CONUS for rehabilitation...until such time (sic) he no longer needs our assistance." According to the General's hand written memorandum, tracking and communication were the key elements that would lead to the successful formulation of the ISU. Later refining his end state by issuing a formal CG's intent, he wrote "I intend to develop an all encompassing program that provides continual support to all injured II MEF service members until such time as the service member no longer desires the support. This continual support will also extend to his or her immediate family. The program is directed to be a "one stop" shop for all injured II MEF service members, staffed with resident experts capable of finding solutions to all inquiries. It will provide continual command care and concern to the injured service member and their families throughout their transition to either continued military service or to the civilian community."

And so began the Injured Support Unit. Initially staffed with both recalled reservists and active duty personnel, its dedicated members made numerous liaison visits to wounded Marines in Military hospitals and VA centers across the country. Whether tracking the flight status of an injured service member from the time of injury until his return to CONUS, or assisting him in separating from active service, the ISU involves themselves in every facet of the Marines rehabilitative process to include the complicated logistics of family travel, convalescent leave, and follow-on medical treatment and rehabilitation, as well as VA transition and the medical evaluation process.

Since its inception, the ISU has tracked and assisted more than 2,000 wounded Marines and sailors. Unfortunately, not all of the injured Marines or sailors return to Camp Lejeune to rehabilitate among their fellow Marines and sailors. Many remain bed-ridden or continue to receive therapy at other locations, such as the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland or the military burn center at the Trauma Institute of San Antonio, Texas. Regardless of their location, the men and women of the ISU spend countless hours making telephone calls and personal visits to each and every Marine, ensuring no one falls through the cracks.

According to Major Daniel Hooker, Assistant OIC of the ISU, the unit quickly established a routine and developed primary points of contact at every hospital and trauma center known to treat wounded sailors and Marines. Referring to the ISU as the II MEF Chief of Staff's "hip pocket artillery" when it comes to injured support issues, Major Hooker emphasizes his primary goal: "Whenever we thought about the Commanders intent, it was simply, do we have an accurate list of the present physical location and contact information of all our wounded and are we actively helping them?"

"We have two main sections of the ISU" says Hooker. "The Injured Support Section...they handle the separate subsets of our wounded, which includes the medically discharged; the very seriously injured; the seriously injured; and the not seriously injured. The other main section is the wounded warrior barracks, also called the Wounded Warrior Support Section. In the barracks side, everyone has been wounded except the Lieutenant, while on the (ISS) side, no one has. Part of that was by design, in terms of the staff of the barracks. There could be very effective leadership and mentorship of wounded (Marines and sailors) by Officers and SNCO's that had also been wounded, in that they could serve as role models and could provide living proof that you can overcome your challenges, even severe wounds such as those LtCol. Maxwell sustained. He has served as an inspiration to the men, who in most cases, and as far as the residents of the barracks go, were less severely wounded than he was."

Major Hooker was referring to LtCol. Tim Maxwell, the Officer in Charge of the Wounded Warrior Support Section. As the chief advocate for the development of a medical rehabilitation platoon, a place where Marines and sailors could live in an environment shaped by their experiences in battle and their struggle to recuperate, LtCol. Maxwell was himself seriously wounded by an IED while serving as the Operations Officer for the 24th MEU. Shrapnel from the blast tore into his skull, leaving him with traumatic head and brain injuries. Unwilling to give up his struggle to stay Marine, he learned to walk, then talk, besieged by therapy and rehabilitation. Despite permanent damage he suffered, his injuries are relatively unnoticeable to the average person. He has since regained his speech and his health continues to improve with each passing day.

It was LtCol. Maxwell who first suggested the central billeting concept, a place of cohabitation for injured service members. In addition to enhancing the II MEF tracking capability, the central billeting concept would reduce the Marine's feeling of isolation and provide an environment for shared experiences, as well as creating an opportunity for smoother transition back to their unit or when separating from the Corps. Most importantly, the barracks would provide a consolidated location where specialized services, medical oversight, and morale enhancements could be offered under one roof for the collective benefit of all wounded service members. Maxwell summarized his idea - "The concept was simple...let's just keep the guys together, so they don't have to spend time alone."

LtCol. Maxwell's cadre wear many hats while working in the barracks. They serve as ad hoc parents, mentors and role models, all but one having been wounded in the war on terrorism. "The units are not set up to help some of these Marines who need long term care, but (who) are not going to stay in a hospital...it's a full time job doing that," mentions Gunnery Sgt. Barnes, Staff NCOIC of the Wounded Warrior Support Section. Pondering the benefits of the wounded warrior barracks, Gunnery Sgt. Barnes finds merit in the collective healing concept. "It's something I know because of all the doctors appointments (I required) and the amount of drugs I took for awhile," Barnes explains. "It's not a unit's lack of compassion or understanding, it's a lack of time to focus on those issues. Units don't have anything dedicated or set up to take the young Marines to their hospital appointments. Their hearts are in the right place...they want to be able to do that, but they have one focus when they get back, and it's not to heal...it's to rebuild and to get the unit ready to fight again."

Gunnery Sgt. Barnes stresses the wounded Marines aren't babied at the barracks. "I only give them compassion when they need compassion. I don't feel sorry for them because they got hurt...I got hurt. I don't expect anyone to feel sorry for me, either. If you need help getting your pant leg on, well...that's not something you need to feel sorry for anybody for. It's just something you need help with...it shouldn't be embarrassing. You're still going to have to look good in your Alphas. They are required to be at work. We have a ton of jobs we get them involved in. The sergeants I've got here are squad leaders; they work around their doctors appointments. It shows them they can still do it."

Resembling little like the billeting at their parent unit, the wounded warrior barracks provides its inhabitants with private rooms, complete with individual bathrooms and separate living space. The barracks itself is modified with handicapped ramps and wheelchair accessible entry points. The barracks personnel were recently provided a beautiful stainless steel propane grill from the 2nd Marine Division Association, now permanently installed outside the barracks entrance. More important than its physical features, however, the barracks offers the wounded a place to share their experiences with others who’ve endured the same hardships and who share the same need for additional surgery and treatment.

"It's almost like being in Iraq" says LCpl. Brandon Love, a SAW gunner for 2nd BN, 2nd Marine Regiment who suffered severe shrapnel wounds in Al Karma, Iraq in September, 2005. "You find out about these guys...everybody has seen combat. Most everybody has seen their buddies get injured if not killed, and everybody here was injured. Those three things make us more alike than most people realize, regardless of where we are from, what our MOS is...the brotherhood and the camaraderie is the most beneficial thing." LCpl. Love's comments were quickly echoed by LCpl. Bruce Schweitzer, injured in March, 2006 while serving with 3/8 in Ramadi, Iraq, "They focus completely on your injury. It's all about your injury. They want to get you healed up and get you back with your unit."

General Michael Hagee, Commandant of the Marine Corps, had this to say to the staff of MARINES, the Corps Official Magazine in September, 2005. "Our Marines are just that; Marines to the core. Some have lost limbs or sustained other types of serious injuries, but amazingly they're trying to recover as quickly as possible so they can get back to their units. They don't slow down when thrown a curve ball and their resiliency and determination are breathtaking. When I talk to one of these Marines and they explain how they want to continue with their service, I want to make sure the Marine Corps takes the right steps to make that happen." Apparently, II MEF has taken the first steps and is continuing to march.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The Best and Worst of Iraq, Marine style...

I received this via e-mail the other morning and thought I'd share it with you...a great read! It took me right back to Fallujah and Ramadi, places I don't miss in the least. Enjoy.

A Marine Intel Officer in Al Anbar Shares Some Thoughts
From the net...courtesy of Reads...
Classification: UNCLASSIFIED

All: I haven’t written very much from Iraq. There’s really not much to write about. More exactly, there’s not much I can write about because practically everything I do, read or hear is classified military information or is depressing to the point that I’d rather just forget about it, never mind write about it. The gaps in between all of that are filled with the pure tedium of daily life in an armed camp. So it’s a bit of a struggle to think of anything to put into a letter that’s worth reading. Worse, this place just consumes you. I work 18-20-hour days, every day. The quest to draw a clear picture of what the insurgents are up to never ends. Problems and frictions crop up faster than solutions. Every challenge demands a response. It’s like this every day. Before I know it, I can’t see straight, because it’s 0400 and I’ve been at work for twenty hours straight, somehow missing dinner again in the process. And once again I haven’t written to anyone. It starts all over again four hours later. It’s not really like Ground Hog Day, it’s more like a level from Dante’s Inferno.

Rather than attempting to sum up the last seven months, I figured I’d just hit the record setting highlights of 2006 in Iraq. These are among the events and experiences I’ll remember best.

Worst Case of Déjà Vu - I thought I was familiar with the feeling of déjà vu until I arrived back here in Fallujah in February. The moment I stepped off of the helicopter, just as dawn broke, and saw the camp just as I had left it ten months before - that was déjà vu. Kind of unnerving. It was as if I had never left. Same work area, same busted desk, same chair, same computer, same room, same creaky rack, same . . . everything. Same everything for the next year. It was like entering a parallel universe. Home wasn’t 10,000 miles away, it was a different lifetime.

Most Surreal Moment - Watching Marines arrive at my detention facility and unload a truck load of flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. I had put the word out earlier in the day to the Marines in Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was described as a midget. Little did I know that Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets, who banded together for support since they were considered as social outcasts. The Marines were anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in the rest of the midget suspects, but I called off the search, figuring Bad Guy X was long gone on his short legs after seeing his companions rounded up by the giant infidels.

Most Profound Man in Iraq - an unidentified farmer in a fairly remote area who, after being asked by Reconnaissance Marines (searching for Syrians) if he had seen any foreign fighters in the area replied “Yes, you.”

Worst City in al-Anbar Province - Ramadi, hands down. The provincial capital of 400,000 people. Killed over 1,000 insurgents in there since we arrived in February. Every day is a nasty gun battle. They blast us with giant bombs in the road, snipers, mortars and small arms. We blast them with tanks, attack helicopters, artillery, our snipers (much better than theirs), and every weapon that an infantryman can carry. Every day. Incredibly, I rarely see Ramadi in the news. We have as many attacks out here in the west as Baghdad. Yet, Baghdad has 7 million people, we have just 1.2 million. Per capita, al-Anbar province is the most violent place in Iraq by several orders of magnitude. I suppose it was no accident that the Marines were assigned this area in 2003.

Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province - Any Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician (EOD Tech). How’d you like a job that required you to defuse bombs in a hole in the middle of the road that very likely are booby-trapped or connected by wire to a bad guy who’s just waiting for you to get close to the bomb before he clicks the detonator? Every day. Sanitation workers in New York City get paid more than these guys. Talk about courage and commitment.

Second Bravest Guy in al-Anbar Province - It’s a 20,000 way tie among all the Marines and Soldiers who venture out on the highways and through the towns of al-Anbar every day, not knowing if it will be their last - and for a couple of them, it will be.

Best Piece of U.S. Gear - new, bullet-proof flak jackets. O.K., they weigh 40 lbs and aren’t exactly comfortable in 120 degree heat, but they’ve saved countless lives out here.

Best Piece of Bad Guy Gear - Armor Piercing ammunition that goes right through the new flak jackets and the Marines inside them.

Worst E-Mail Message - “The Walking Blood Bank is Activated. We need blood type A+ stat.” I always head down to the surgical unit as soon as I get these messages, but I never give blood - there’s always about 80 Marines in line, night or day.

Biggest Surprise - Iraqi Police. All local guys. I never figured that we’d get a police force established in the cities in al-Anbar. I estimated that insurgents would kill the first few, scaring off the rest. Well, insurgents did kill the first few, but the cops kept on coming. The insurgents continue to target the police, killing them in their homes and on the streets, but the cops won’t give up. Absolutely incredible tenacity. The insurgents know that the police are far better at finding them than we are. - and they are finding them. Now, if we could just get them out of the habit of beating prisoners to a pulp . . .

Greatest Vindication - Stocking up on outrageous quantities of Diet Coke from the chow hall in spite of the derision from my men on such hoarding, then having a 122mm rocket blast apart the giant shipping container that held all of the soda for the chow hall. Yep, you can’t buy experience.

Biggest Mystery - How some people can gain weight out here. I’m down to 165 lbs. Who has time to eat?

Second Biggest Mystery - if there’s no atheists in foxholes, then why aren’t there more people at Mass every Sunday?

Favorite Iraqi TV Show - Oprah. I have no idea. They all have satellite TV.

Coolest Insurgent Act - Stealing almost $7 million from the main bank in Ramadi in broad daylight, then, upon exiting, waving to the Marines in the combat outpost right next to the bank, who had no clue of what was going on. The Marines waved back. Too cool.

Most Memorable Scene - In the middle of the night, on a dusty airfield, watching the better part of a battalion of Marines packed up and ready to go home after six months in al-Anbar, the relief etched in their young faces even in the moonlight. Then watching these same Marines exchange glances with a similar number of grunts loaded down with gear file past - their replacements. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.

Highest Unit Re-enlistment Rate - Any outfit that has been in Iraq recently. All the danger, all the hardship, all the time away from home, all the horror, all the frustrations with the fight here - all are outweighed by the desire for young men to be part of a 'Band of Brothers' who will die for one another. They found what they were looking for when they enlisted out of high school. Man for man, they now have more combat experience than any Marines in the history of our Corps.

Most Surprising Thing I Don’t Miss - Beer. Perhaps being half-stunned by lack of sleep makes up for it.

Worst Smell - Porta-johns in 120 degree heat - and that’s 120 degrees outside of the porta-john.

Highest Temperature - I don’t know exactly, but it was in the porta-johns. Needed to re-hydrate after each trip to the loo.

Biggest Hassle - High-ranking visitors. More disruptive to work than a rocket attack. VIPs demand briefs and “battlefield” tours (we take them to quiet sections of Fallujah, which is plenty scary for them). Our briefs and commentary seem to have no affect on their preconceived notions of what’s going on in Iraq. Their trips allow them to say that they’ve been to Fallujah, which gives them an unfortunate degree of credibility in perpetuating their fantasies about the insurgency here.

Biggest Outrage - Practically anything said by talking heads on TV about the war in Iraq, not that I get to watch much TV. Their thoughts are consistently both grossly simplistic and politically slanted. Biggest offender - Bill O’Reilly - what a buffoon.

Best Intel Work - Finding Jill Carroll’s kidnappers - all of them. I was mighty proud of my guys that day. I figured we’d all get the Christian Science Monitor for free after this, but none have showed up yet. Talk about ingratitude.

Saddest Moment - Having the battalion commander from 1st Battalion, 1st Marines hand me the dog tags of one of my Marines who had just been killed while on a mission with his unit. Hit by a 60mm mortar. Cpl Bachar was a great Marine. I felt crushed for a long time afterward. His picture now hangs at the entrance to the Intelligence Section. We’ll carry it home with us when we leave in February.

Biggest Ass-Chewing - 10 July immediately following a visit by the Iraqi Deputy Prime Minister, Dr. Zobai. The Deputy Prime Minister brought along an American security contractor (read mercenary), who told my Commanding General that he was there to act as a mediator between us and the Bad Guys. I immediately told him what I thought of him and his asinine ideas in terms that made clear my disgust and which, unfortunately, are unrepeatable here. I thought my boss was going to have a heart attack. Fortunately, the translator couldn’t figure out the best Arabic words to convey my meaning for the Deputy Prime Minister. Later, the boss had no difficulty in conveying his meaning to me in English regarding my Irish temper, even though he agreed with me. At least the guy from the State Department thought it was hilarious. We never saw the mercenary again.

Best Chuck Norris Moment - 13 May. Bad Guys arrived at the government center in the small town of Kubaysah to kidnap the town mayor, since they have a problem with any form of government that does not include regular beheadings and women wearing burqahs. There were seven of them. As they brought the mayor out to put him in a pick-up truck to take him off to be beheaded (on video, as usual), one of the bad Guys put down his machinegun so that he could tie the mayor’s hands. The mayor took the opportunity to pick up the machinegun and drill five of the Bad Guys. The other two ran away. One of the dead Bad Guys was on our top twenty wanted list. Like they say, you can’t fight City Hall.

Worst Sound - That crack-boom off in the distance that means an IED or mine just went off. You just wonder who got it, hoping that it was a near miss rather than a direct hit. Hear it every day.

Second Worst Sound - Our artillery firing without warning. The howitzers are pretty close to where I work. Believe me, outgoing sounds a lot like incoming when our guns are firing right over our heads. They’d about knock the fillings out of your teeth.

Only Thing Better in Iraq Than in the U.S. - Sunsets. Spectacular. It’s from all the dust in the air.

Proudest Moment - It’s a tie every day, watching my Marines produce phenomenal intelligence products that go pretty far in teasing apart Bad Guy operations in al-Anbar. Every night Marines and Soldiers are kicking in doors and grabbing Bad Guys based on intelligence developed by my guys. We rarely lose a Marine during these raids, they are so well-informed of the objective. A bunch of kids right out of high school shouldn’t be able to work so well, but they do.

Happiest Moment - Well, it wasn’t in Iraq. There are no truly happy moments here. It was back in California when I was able to hold my family again while home on leave during July.

Most Common Thought - Home. Always thinking of home, of Kathleen and the kids. Wondering how everyone else is getting along. Regretting that I don’t write more. Yep, always thinking of home.