News From the Cause
A Light At The End Of The Tunnel: (ON PATROL – USO)
August 30, 2011
My journey as an Army spouse began 27 years ago with the seemingly simple vows of “For better or worse... ’til death do us part.” Who could have imagined the journey that lay ahead and where those simple words would lead me?
The evolution from Army bride to caregiver has spanned the years, and I received some on-the-job training along the way, which has turned me into a passionate supporter for the caregiver as well as the wounded.
One of our first assignments was Camp Frank D. Merrill in Dahlonega, Georgia. I learned my family had expanded to include not only blood kin, but Army kin. One of my first lessons came when one of the wives was diagnosed with encephalitis and I was expected to pitch in to help provide meals. As a new, and working, spouse it was a bit intimidating to cook for a family with children. I no longer recall the menus, but the expectation to take care of a fellow Army family in need is as clear today as it was all those years ago.
Over time I grew comfortable in my role as a supporter to others, and my thinking evolved into weighing options of what to do, when to do it, how to intervene, and what response was enough or appropriate. Despite those years of experience, nothing could have prepared me for my husband’s rotation to Iraq, which was to change my family and the responsibility that I feel toward the casualties of war.
Our unit rotation to Iraq began as many others do—resource fairs, updating wills, and the dreaded casualty notification briefing. The violence we watched on the news was about to become our everyday reality for the next year.
The unit shipped out in short order and the casualties began soon after. We quickly realized that this rotation was going to be a bloody one. The Mosul dining facility bombing on December 21, 2004, exposed how savagely the enemy could strike. We operated like a well-oiled machine, moving into “go” mode at a moment’s notice, but the attack taxed the strength of our support network. There were only so many volunteers willing to assist and a growing dread about whose soldier would be next. We were exposed to too many injuries and too many deaths.
My first inkling that my soldier had become one of the unit’s casualties came in the dead of night when the phone rang and one of my husband’s friends said, “I want to tell you that Emmett is going to be OK.”
He proceeded to tell me Emmett had been shot and was going to be taken by medevac to a combat support hospital and would call from there. In the darkness, while my 18-month-old daughter, Maizie, slept, I waited for the call. To that point it had been about others, now the reality became my own.
The phone call finally came. Surgery followed, then more phone calls, and finally a picture. Emmett chose to stay in theatre to recuperate and go back to the fight. While I admired his tenacity, each day after that phone call was a lesson in endurance for me. If the enemy had shot him, the possibility of his death was real.
The casualties mounted with alarming swiftness and by the end of the 2004-2005 rotation, the 1st Stryker Brigade, 25th Infantry Regiment, with detachments, suffered more than 50 killed in action and awarded more than 600 Purple Heart medals. Click here to view
