This weekend marks the 2-year anniversary of the day Chuck got wounded in Iraq, ultimately inspiring Valour-IT. I remembered writing something about that last June, so I went looking for it in my June 2006 archives.
Amazing how things come 'round once again. Here's a little side-by-side of June 2006 versus June 2007:
Working with children? Check.
A world of unknowns and creeping self-doubt? Check.
Important interview? Check.
Waiting? Check.
Unknown unknowns and a weird level of calm? Check.
Not moving to DC for an amazing new job?
Let's not check that one this time 'round, okay?
23 June, 2007
The Circle of Life
22 June, 2007
Close Distant Encounter?
This afternoon I heard something I'd never heard before: a very distant but distinct whump-whump at approximately 12:45 p.m. Edwards AFB is a long way away, but I wonder...
UPDATE: Yup, it was the shuttle I heard. In the comments, Barb has been very helpful and informative. And I guess this seals the deal. And now I'm not afraid to say that after the boom I heard a distant car alarm (probably due to the powerful vibrations of the boom even though it wasn't very loud--at least, compared to the jets I usually hear roaring at work, haha!). Very, very cool.
Learning from Iraq
The headline ("NATO Airstrikes, Clashes Kill 25 Afghans") and opening paragraph of this typically-slanted news story are misleading:
Afghanistan - Taliban militants attacked police posts in southern Afghanistan, triggering NATO airstrikes that left 25 civilians dead, including three infants and the local mullah, a senior police officer said Friday.
The real story--the extent to which the Taliban is using and abusing civilians--is buried deep in the article:
Taliban used at least two civilian compounds for cover during the clashes, which lasted into early Friday, Andiwal said. [snip]Sounds a lot like recent tactics in Gaza too, doesn't it? As a friend said recently... Evil walks among us. Read More......
Taliban fighters tried to force local civilians to fight alongside them, "and killed citizens who refused — they were hauled out of their houses by the Taliban and executed," Berlijn said.
"One police checkpoint commander saw two brothers murdered before his eyes by the Taliban," he said. Another police report said "eight women were murdered — they had their throats slashed."
21 June, 2007
We, Not You and Me
Neptunus Lex has recently been graced by a new visitor who thinks he's smarter than he really is, who spends a lot of time talking about "the Republican Party's war in Iraq" and viewing everything about it through the lens of partisan politics. After going several rounds with "gil" (along with the assistance of other commenters), Lex ends with a reminder to those on all "sides" of this:
I didn't swear the oath Lex did, but I second the underlying sentiments. Thanks to Lex for articulating it so well.We’re going to keep talking past each other gil....because we have two fundamentally opposed world views. For some incomprehensible reason, you seem to believe that the Republican Party is at war, despite the fact that it was entered into by our democratically elected government, including many members of what you think of as “your side.”
I on the other hand think the country is at war. I didn’t swear an oath of allegiance to any party - I swore to support and defend the Constitution, a document whose processes were used to put our soldiers in harm’s way and which sustains them to this day.
Your language all throughout this discussion is putting party and ideology above country and I frankly think that’s reprehensible...
You keep saying “my side” - I don’t have a side. I have a country. And I don’t really care which party governs that country all that much, so long as they don’t get to office by promising deeply silly people that the best thing for the country to do is lose a war.
Btw, the post itself and the ensuing discussion in comments are abundant in both entertainment and educational value. Read More......
20 June, 2007
The Interview: AAR
UPDATE (6/22/07 a.m.): No word yet. It's impossible to ascertain meaning from that, since this process has had a fluid timeline from the beginning. I know the decision makers have a very busy Friday/Saturday ahead of them out-of-office, so who knows...
Not sure how it went myself, but those I've described it to in detail say it I should be optimistic.
It may come down to a final two or a hiring decision may be made as soon as tomorrow. Either way, I should know something soon.
Sorry I don't have more info right now. It's been a long day...
19 June, 2007
The Surge in Action
Blackfive's post reminded me of what has been sitting in the back of my brain while the front was preoccupied with the impending interview:
It's always time to pray for, send positive thoughts to, and actively support the troops. But now, more than ever.Many of you know that General Petraeus has announced the beginnings of combat operations in Iraq now that the surge forces are in place.
"Kinetic" doesn't do justice to the description of what is now happening.
On Sunday, a friend of mine brought the chaplain to his area to speak to his men. There's only one reason to "bring in" the chaplain. The @#$% is about to hit the @#$%ing fan and the leaders know it.
As Blackfive reminds us, the work of various military support organizations is going to be needed in coming months. I suspect we'll be fielding a surge of requests for Valour-IT laptops in a couple of weeks...
USO
Soldiers' Angels
Sew Much Comfort
AnySoldier
Semper Fi Injured Marine Fund
Operation Gratitude
Wounded Warrior Project
Fisher House Read More......
The Interview
The second interview is tomorrow morning. I think I'm ready, and I hope it goes as well as the first. I'm a bit concerned that it's by telephone, but hopefully the face-to-face in DC will have mitigated any inherent disadvantage. I am thoroughly prepared and all I can do is just put all that work into action tomorrow.
Friends who have seen the job description invariably tell me, "This is perfect for you. You are exactly the right person for this job." I hope they're right, 'cause I know I can do it and I think I would absolutely love it.
I'm not usually a big optimist about these kinds of things, but I've been feeling upbeat about this since I walked out of their office in DC six weeks ago.
If you're the praying type, please do so. Fingers crossed...
16 June, 2007
Army Wives Get Wounded Too
Entwined in Josie Salzman's discussion of the Army's recent increase in mental health workers for wounded and returning veterans (it's not enough) is a story of PTSD and the aftermath of combat wounds from the loved one's perspective.
It's an absolute must-read (I've reproduced the bulk of it below because I don't want you to miss this, so keep reading or visit her blog for the rest of the story). I'll let her speak for herself. There's nothing I could add:
One of the first nights I had with my husband after the injury will forever be burned into my mind. He had been in an excruciating amount of pain the entire evening. It was still early in his hospital stay so the doctors had yet to find a pain cocktail that his body responded to. Just like the evening before, the nurse entered the room and handed J.R. a cup filled to the top of pills. Desperate to make the pain subside for a few hours, J.R. swallowed them in one giant mouthful. An hour later he was drifting off to sleep.
I started making my bed for the night after I was sure he was sleeping. This would be my second night of sleeping in the fold out chair that I would soon learn to hate. I had no more than crawled under the covers when J.R. sat bolt upright in bed. "Get them off me. Get them off me now. The bugs they're all over me get them off. They're in the bed. Make them go away." Unsure of what he was talking about, I jumped out of bed and rushed to calm him down. After a grueling twenty minutes he was able to once again close his eyes. It didn't last. Again his mind took over in his sleep. This time he felt as if someone was in the room and he was under attack. He awoke panicked and sweat soaked. I sat on his bed and held him in my arms. I promised him that if he just close his eyes he would be able to sleep and that everything would be fine. I was in the room and I was going nowhere. But everything wasn't fine. No more than an hour after he closed his eyes the terror began. On this night J.R. would relive the entire accident.
"Are you ready? Hey, I'm talking to you. Are you ready to go? We have to get on the road. It's time to head back south." J.R. was mumbling in his sleep.
"J.R. what are you talking about. We aren't going anywhere. Go back to sleep."
We went back in forth for a while before I realized what was going on. He was prepping his truck for convoy and in his mind it was December 19th. His nurse assured me that this was normal and to just keep an eye on him. I listened as he spoke to his men as the convoy went down the road. He mumbled so much I had a hard time understanding. That is... until they hit the EFP.
"Hey. Hey guys... guys I can't feel my arm. Guys my arm. My arm. My arm is gone. Guys help me. My arm is gone. Help. Help. I need a tourniquet . I'm bleeding out. It's gone. Holy shit my arm is gone."
By this point J.R. was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was sitting upright in bed. I bolted out the door and yelled for the nurse. Together we muscled J.R. back down on the bed. He was thrashing. At this point more nurses were filling the room. His screams could be heard throughout all of Ward 57. I retreated to my bed and allowed the nurses to help my husband. I pulled my legs up to my chest and tried to ignore my husbands screams.
"Stop stepping on my arm. It hurts. Give me pain killers. Your stepping on my arm. Get off of it. My hand. My hand. My hand is gone. God damn it I told you get off my arm."
The nurses were calm as they helped him fight through the night terror. They played the roll of the army medics, telling him that he was going to be fine. Helping him fight through the pain. Then all of a sudden came relief. It came in the form of a shot. The medicine entered his body and within minutes the terror was over. He lay in his bed. Calm. I sat on the chair and cried. I cried for my husband, for the pain that he was in. I cried for our dreams that were now garbage. I cried out of exhaustion.
The next morning J.R. remembered nothing. He didn't understand why my eyes were so puffy and I was so tired.
[...]
We were fine for a few weeks. And then the dreams returned. Constantly waking up in the middle of the night in fear that an IED had exploded outside the window. For weeks he was permanently attached to me at night. And although I usually don't mind to snuggle up at night, it is very different when your husband has the death grip on you while you're trying to sleep. I was exhausted. I no longer had the help of the nurses to care for my husband. His memory was non existent with the meds he was taking so it was almost as if I was taking care of a small child. A very stubborn small child with a lot of needs. He couldn't dress himself, could barely feed himself, and still needed help taking a shower. I was so wrapped up in taking care of him that I completely forgot to take care of myself. Then the fights began.
Once again I started asking for a therapist. This time, it only took a week. We saw him twice. Things didn't go so well. After our second and final appointment I returned to our room feeling defeated. Not once had any member of the staff here asked if I was ok. If there was anything that I needed. How I was handling my husband's injury. I was realizing that I was no longer able to handle the stress of taking care of J.R. For months I had been bottling up every concern, every fear, and every frustration inside. I had a break down. Two weeks later family arrived and I was able to leave and go home for a week of alone time.
Since that week things have been a million times better. J.R. has been able to cut back on his meds which has made a world of difference. I now see the man I married shining through the drug haze. The fights are less often and less intense. And we are able to realize when a little time apart is needed. It's amazing what taking care of yourself for a while can do for your mental health.
It is also important to remember that even though my husband may be the one that lives with the memory of the explosion, we all live with the memory of the healing process. This war has taken it's toll on me as well.
[More here.]
Did Somebody Say "Surge?"
News from Iraq this morning...
The U.S. military, which just days ago completed its latest troop buildup in Iraq, has launched a large offensive operation in several al-Qaida strongholds around Baghdad, the top U.S. commander said Saturday.Casts the timing of statements by certain congressional "leaders" this week in an interesting light, doesn't it?
Gen. David Petraeus said the operation began in the last 24 hours... [emphasis added]
Top US congressional Democrats bluntly told President George W. Bush Wednesday that his Iraq troop "surge" policy was a failure.The words "pre-emptive strike" come to mind. I'm not going to type anymore, as I don't trust myself to be civil.
Senate Majority leader Harry Reid and House of Representatives Speaker Nancy Pelosi challenged the president over Iraq by sending him a letter, ahead of a White House meeting later on Wednesday.
"As many had forseen, the escalation has failed to produce the intended results," the two leaders wrote. [emphasis added]
Update: The surge is already bearing fruit. Sounds like they're hot on the terrorists' trail.
Update II: The link in the first update used to go to an article headlined "Kidnapped Soldiers' IDs Found." It discussed in great detail what was found along with the IDs and the families' reactions. It's since been significantly rewritten (as of about 4:30 p.m., eastern). Read More......
Walter Reed and the Mail
Sadly this bit of news shouldn't shock anyone. But the way it's being dealt with is a refreshing change from the recent past...
The Army said Friday that it has opened an investigation into the recent discovery of 4,500 letters and parcels — some dating to May 2006 — at Walter Reed that were never delivered to soldiers.Hats off to MG Schoomaker, who I'm sure is still digging his way through the problems at Walter Reed. He obviously knows the importance of mail to a soldier. And shame, shame, shame on the contract employee who let a situation like that develop.And it fired the contract employee who ran the mailroom.
Sadly, it's not surprising to discover another case of mail-related incompetence at Walter Reed. As has been widely reported among the milblogs, around the time the living-conditions scandal at Walter Reed erupted last February and March, "Any Wounded Soldier" mail to the hospital was being restricted and returned to sender because there was "too much of it to deliver." In a despicable bit of irony, wounded-but-mobile outpatients were tasked with writing "return to sender" on cards, letters and packages.
But it sounds like the newly-installed MG Schoomaker is on top of things, with the right priorities and a willingness to do what needs to be done. Here's how he's dealing with the 4,500-piece mail backlog:
[He] said he ordered a team of 20 to 40 soldiers and civilians to launch an around-the-clock operation to screen, survey and forward all the letters and parcels. Items addressed to soldiers still at Walter Reed were being hand-delivered Friday night, he said.In some ways it's a "small" thing, but it's another indicator of proper, soldier-focused priorities. Glad you're there, Sir. Read More......"This delay is completely and absolutely unsatisfactory," Schoomaker said.
14 June, 2007
Amazing
[THREE UPDATES BELOW]
If you do nothing else today, watch this video of a stereotypical Welsh salesman who has a glorious secret. I am deadly serious. 300,000 more people have watched it just in the 30 minutes since I first saw it.
After you click the video, please click "read more." AFTER, please--don't spoil the surprise for yourself.
Take it from a professional: he is once-in-a-generation, at least. Remember that name... Paul Potts.
UPDATE: That was obviously from a British talent show. He made it into the finals this evening. Here's his semi-final performance. The sound mixing is a bit unbalanced (the music covers his voice at times), so listen to it on as high-quality speakers as you can.
By the way, he's only in his twenties. That means he hasn't yet reached his peak as a singer--my ear tells me there are aspects of his voice (particularly in terms of projection in the low range, as is typical in a tenor) that he probably hasn't fully developed yet. He's going to be indescribably extraordinary...
UPDATE II: I thought he looked a bit older than twenty-something and it turns out I was right. He's 36. But still, a gorgeous voice, and what sets him apart is his ability to sing with such natural emotion that doesn't feel like he's really "performing." He's still a once-in-a-generation performer with a tremendous gift.
UPDATE III: There's been a lot of confusion about his performing background. He has been singing in the British equivalent of community theatre (pay to play). He also paid for a summer of vocal study that included lessons and putting on performances. The "studied with Pavarotti" meme is a bit misleading. He attended a masterclass with Pavarotti; a masterclass is a one-time event (sometimes paid) in which singers can sit in on lessons of a master teacher and perhaps even be selected as a demonstration singer to whom the master will give a "mini-lesson" while the rest of the attendees watch. He has never made a living as a singer or been paid to perform in a concert setting. In a nutshell, he's a particularly devoted amateur who has never had a big break.
I think he just got that "break" he's been looking for... Bravo to him for his perseverance!
Read More......
11 June, 2007
I'm taking a break...
To go read a book.
It was recommended (and given) by a sweet friend who was kind enough to say he thought I'd understand something of the spirit of the women therein. Should be interesting, at least. Perhaps at best it will inspire me...
09 June, 2007
....A Thousand Words
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Peter Pace, U.S. Marine Corps, tours the Faces of the Fallen exhibit in Arlington, Va., on June 7, 2007. The exhibition opened in 2005 and consists of 1,319 painted portraits of U.S. service members killed in Afghanistan and Iraq. DoD photo by Staff Sgt. D. Myles Cullen, U.S. Air Force
Click the photo for source and a larger version.
[h/t HFS]
Read More......
Blogging: Anonymity, Life, and Writer's Block
I've had this sitting in draft form for four days, trying to decide if it was worth publishing. But I've got nothing else, so here goes...
I've been fighting writer's block for maybe two months now, but it's gotten worse since the MilBlog Conference. Anything I've written in the last month has been like pulling teeth and it hasn't come from the place of authenticity that has powered some of the better stuff I've written here (see "Other Notable Posts" in the sidebar for proof that I used to be a good blogger, haha).
I wish I knew why this was, but I only have a bunch of theories. Part of me really wants to just shut down the blog, but part of me also says I'd regret it.
For those who care, a list of what's going on inside my head (and is, I suspect, causing this block) is found below...
1. Pressure. After winning the MilBloggie (much to my surprise), I feel like I have to maintain a standard to justify the win and not reduce the credibility of a MilBloggie for the next winner. But blogging is something that comes from my heart, not an intellectual exercise. So instead, I've done very little of the kind of blogging that got me that award in the first place (going from repeated links by all the conservative heavy hitters to the kind of personal drivel I've written recently is hard on the ego).
2. Life. As I've said repeatedly lately, there's a lot going on inside my head, and I feel suspended between two worlds--excited by the possibilities and fearful that they'll never come to be. And that's apparently eating my brain. And beyond that, the 12-hour split-shift schedule of work makes wasting those open hours between the split very easy. Add to it that the schedule has obliterated my volunteer opportunities, which were a rich source of quality blogging.
3. Anonymity. The MilBLog Conference and SpouseBUZZ (and some recent stupidity by a reporter) have linked my blogging and non-blogging lives--both personal and professional. And having someone you've never met walk up to you amongst your coworkers and say, "So this is where you hang out!" because she saw you at SpouseBUZZ when you were addressed from the stage is a bit disconcerting, especially when you've been told to keep a low profile at work for the sake of coworker harmony.
4. Merging. This is a continuation of #3. My career used to be a part of my offline life, completely separate from online activities and blogging. Now, I'm using my online activities in an attempt to forge the kind of career and offline life I want. For example, my prospective employer is aware of this blog (yes, it'll go right out the window if asked). It's also a bit disconcerting to have a philanthropist at Walter Reed say after someone mentions your blog, "Oh yes, we all know exactly who you are and what you do." And this year's MilBlog Conference continued to cement "online relationships" that I now see have had an even more profound shaping effect on my life than I previously thought--in everything from job prospects to how I view myself to who my mentors are in areas both personal and professional. If I get that job in DC, the merge will be complete; if I don't, I think I'll continue to feel suspended between two worlds (with the more "substantial" world being the least-desired at this point).
Numbers 3 & 4 particularly bother me. When I started this blog, I was a music teacher in an isolated town in Arizona and I expected to be there for the forseeable future. It seemed it would be easy to keep my "real life" and blogging separate. I tried to be my real self online, but told no one offline of the blog and I wanted to avoid any possibility of my name, location, etc., being public knowledge in either sphere. I kept my town name secret because there were only a handful of schools in that town, so it wouldn't have been hard to figure out which one had a single music teacher (which was the extent of my blog identity). And as Valour-IT developed, I tried so hard to stay in the background (that worked out well, huh? LOL!).
The topper was when I realized a fellow blogger and I are now working at the same location. We had lunch together and he later advised me on a significant purchase. He was so kind and made the decision so much easier. I wanted to blog about it and give him due credit for being such a prince, but realized that since he makes no pretense of hiding as a blogger, I would be revealing my exact working location, down to the building level (And yes, a regular reader probably knows exactly where I work, but the random reader isn't going to know it from any single post at this point).
I can't help but think about things like how Matt of Blackfive and his family were threatened, with his correct home address posted online. I don't have his stature, of course, but all it takes is one whackjob. I fear I wouldn't be hard to find if someone really wanted to. That's another reason to hope I get the DC job, I guess; it'll give me the chance to make sure everything is unlisted (and I don't have any relatives there that share my last name).
Maybe it comes down to the idea that blogging used to be a place where I could be emotionally and physically safe to be completely myself without worrying how it might affect my job or peoples' opinions of me, or whether some troll might find out he lives in the same neighborhood I work in; I could be myself and if people didn't like it, so what? They were essentially just "figments of my imagination"--to take a cold-hearted view. But now I have to worry about how what I say reflects on me to potential employers, and most of my true friends these days are "online friends" (even ones I haven't "met" yet). The increasing significance of online friends in my life is further propelled by the fact that the only people I've gotten to know here are my co-workers, and with the exception of one new person, we don't seem to be compatible outside of work.
So weird to find myself in this hybrid position: to close this blog would be cutting out a huge part of my life and who I have become. But if that's true, why should continuing it in a manner I can be proud of be so difficult?
CLARIFICATION: I'm very proud of what I've been a part of as an adopted milblogger, and beyond grateful for the online relationships I've developed (and for the attendant opportunities). On the personal front, I've grown in ways I never expected, and on the professional/charity front I've been blessed to be a part of amazing things. I'm just finding this time in my life very difficult to navigate with style and aplomb. I suspect that if I end up in that DC job, a lot of the "blockage" will break. Hopefully.
07 June, 2007
Innocence Revisited
In mention of a veteran of WWII today, John Donovan writes:
No one comes out of combat innocent.That idea has always "pushed a button with me." I replied:And many of the people who decry war in any and all it's forms - live in an innocent world *bought* by the loss of innocence of others.
Andi and I were just talking about that yesterday. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks when I knew we had people on the ground in Afghanistan post-9/11, and it is a significant part of what has propelled me in my troop support activities. In so many ways, warfighters do/live things that I don't want to or can't do myself. I live innocent (ignorant) of the darkest parts of the world and of myself... because they don't.
I've expanded on this here several times, most recently about
[First published 3/24/07; you may find the comments on the original post also worth a read.]
There are many reasons I'm so serious about supporting our military men and women, why I feel it's a moral obligation. It's not just a sense of "they have suffered for me," though that is certainly part of it. What really pulls on me and compels a response is the warfighter's loss of innocence due to actions taken on my behalf. In a powerful essay, former soldier Brian Mockenhaupt explains:But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored. And once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us.
One former Marine friend has told me that he still habitually runs mental threat assessments (and plans countermeasures) on every person he encounters. He also once described his training and wartime experience as discovering, harnessing and ultimately mastering the beast inside him that we all have, one that lies dormant unless awakened by experience or intent. And Lex has written of the obsession a pilot finds in the violence of bombing runs. More recently, a soldier still on the ground in Iraq wrote of "war cocaine."
Mockenhaupt continues:
At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different. She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning.
That reminds me of my first (and so far, only) experience with a loaded weapon. It was a lot of fun, especially since I seem to have a bit of natural skill with it. It packed a certain frisson, but so deadly serious. My instructor-friend talked as if I would someday carry a weapon of my own, but I'm not eager to do so. It's not only a tremendous responsibility that I doubt I'm up to, but I also think I'm afraid of liking that sense of power a little too much. Apparently that's only a pale shadow of what the soldier feels:
But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do something wrong, so I could shoot him. When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned.That's a trade and a playing field, and a part of myself I don't think I have it in me to face. And if I do, I'd rather not be forced to acknowledge its existence. And so I am beyond grateful there are those who willingly search it out. One reason I feel compelled to support our veterans is the gift they give of themselves; in many ways, they lose their innocence so that I can keep mine.
UPDATE: After email discussions with Grim, I see I may not have been clear. Here I am using innocence in it's fundamental sense: a lack of knowledge. Perhaps ignorance would've been a better choice of word.
Grim wrote to me, in part:
You don't have any innocence to lose; what you describe is not learned but natural behavior... The instinct to kill and to war is as natural a behavior as resides in mankind...
What you have is the illusion of innocence. That is to say, the evil itself is embedded in you. The sense that you are "clean" because you go about from day to day neither killing nor thinking of killing is an illusion; you simply haven't hit the right stimuli.
What you have is the illusion of innocence. That is to say, the evil itself is embedded in you. The sense that you are "clean" because you go about from day to day neither killing nor thinking of killing is an illusion; you simply haven't hit the right stimuli.
I agree. He also pointed out a post of his on related aspects of the subject at Winds of Change.
[If you're still reading this far, you might be interested in my discussion of the response to this gift of innocence (from July 2006).] Read More......
