Nov 10 2008
Veterans day
I have posted about my feelings about Veteran’s day and the military. This year, I offer this post, edited from a blog I wrote in 2005 before the advent of this site.
What Veteran’s day means to me.
I posted my daughter’s feelings on soldiers and the military. Now it’s my turn.
When I look at my military service, I admit I can be less then impressed. Not counting training bases, I was only stationed at one base, Travis AFB, for 12 + years, and I never went overseas. I left my base 4 times: Once to an overnight training exercise about 100 miles away; Once to repair an aircraft in Santa Ana; once to work on a training exercise for about a week in Monterey and once to attend a leadership course in San Bernardino - all still within the state of California.
While there I worked in a repair shops, admin positions, supply and tool cribs. I worked the flightline for two different shops, then finished my time in a maintenance repair dock. During these years I worked on C-5 and C-141 aircraft.
In one job, all I did was change tires. Not too amazing, unless you count large as impressive: the tires on a C-5 are 49 inches tall, and weigh over 250 pounds, and it has 28 of them.
While active duty, I also invariably mopped endless floors, scrubbed countless latrines and even had to pull the horrible duty of running the coffee/snack bar. All very hush hush and dangerous, huh?
We painted everything, then buffed it and even built our own offices.
But in reality, it was not all beer and skittles. I worked in very hazardous environments were minor injuries were common, and death possible. The airplanes are filled with complex control systems that required years of training. Aircraft have many hazards, the least of which are explosive fuel, liquid oxygen and nitrogen, high voltage systems and high pressure hydraulic systems.
The most damaging overall though, was incredible high frequency noise, and my current hearing loss problems stem from those years.
I was a member of the Base Crash Response Team, and we had our share of work. I saw an aircraft blow up. Literally. The repair crew working a fuel issue made a mistake and BOOM! See below. Hard to see what it was when there isn’t much left.
I also saw one land without its landing gear by accident. File this under oops and “did you forget something?”
And during a parking accident, this one sheared a wing off but escaped complete destruction.
Amazingly in all three of those accidents, there were no serious injuries or fatalities.
A civilian contracted C130 landing at our base was not as lucky and all hands were killed.
I was also a member of the Disaster Preparedness Support Team and I was trained to deal with Nuclear, Chemical and Biological attacks and accidents. During Desert Storm, I gave aircrew briefings to crews flying to Saudi Arabia concerning Chemical threats. Yes, he really did have them.
So I guess it was a mixed bag of mundane, strenuous, dangerous and intense.
And all the while I was a volunteer. I had chosen to enter the Air Force at age 20 and reenlisted several times.
Why though bears examination. You see, people enlist for a variety of reasons: Some for College Tuition, some for training (doctors and pilots especially) and some for simple patriotism. I enlisted because I was bored. I was working at a grocery store, and decided I wasn’t going anywhere. So I went somewhere.
Foolish you say? Perhaps. I looked at my alternatives and decided to take the USAF on. I think that though I may not have gone in for the best reasons, in the end it was a valuable experience. I learned a lot of things during my time. I learned about the importance and benefits of teamwork and the consequences and responsibilities that come with service. I learned about leadership and trust. I learned about honor, and I learned about betrayal.
I learned a lifetime of experiences in the form of diverse working environments and the school of hard knocks.
But mostly, I learned about personal work ethics, about satisfaction and actualization.. I learned that you can take pride in the smallest, most mundane job if you approach it always focused on trying to do your best. Those lessons would not truly sink in for many years after I left, but they were well ingrained and I think they have served me well.
I also learned about managing priorities. Specifically, I learned that the military means what it says when it tells its recruits “the needs of the Service and the Country come first”. I learned that the military can be a very harsh master in terms of requiring a person sacrifice family, friends and even themselves.
Now, I sit and watch the people who continue to serve, for they, unlike me, face a much different set of circumstances. I faced a cold war, and vague threats. They serve with the news buzzing with casualty reports from Iraq. They serve knowing the likelihood of their being called to go there. They serve with the possibility of being a casualty. And yet they still serve.
I regard anyone who has served, past of present, enlistee or draftee, as worthy of my and the country’s respect, but I must regard this new generation of warrior with a particular awe. They face something I only saw glimpses of. And still they choose to serve.
And that’s what Veteran’s Day means to me: Remembering those who served, and who still serve and what that means. Remembering all of them, the warriors, the mechanics, the cooks and the admin. Military people serve in a vast variety of roles, yet each is integral to the continued success of the Military. Each person serves for different reasons, but all served and all deserve our respect.
To all veterans, of all branches, LSU salutes you.
Trackposted to Sister Toldjah, STA, MM, The Virtuous Republic, Blog @ MoreWhat.com, A Newt One- Hysterians masquerading as historians, Rosemary’s Thoughts, Right Truth, Loyal Opposition My A**, DragonLady’s World, Cao’s Blog, Democrat=Socialist, Conservative Cat, , third world county, Faultline USA, Political Byline, Woman Honor Thyself, McCain Blogs, The World According to Carl, Pirate’s Cove, Rosemary’s News and Ideas, Celebrity Smack, The Pink Flamingo, A Newt One, Right Voices, and Gone Hollywood, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.
2 Responses to “Veterans day”
Karl,
Your military service may be less impressive to you than you’d like. It still beats mine, or anyone else that’s never served. Whether you joined out of boredom or a sense of obligation doesn’t matter to me. You joined, you served, and you too are worthy of respect for it.
That it was a learning experience and helped to shape you into who you are today, with solid values and discipline is something worthwhile as well.
I salute you, and everyone who served. I particularly salute those that have served in combat, especially the volunteers. But I still salute all who served in the military. They made braver choices than I did, and I’m proud of them all.
On the 11th Day of the 11th month each year, Americans come together to honor those in uniform, the ones who sacrificed for our nation, on Veterans Day. As a veteran of the Iraq and Afghanistan, War on Terror, I urge everyone to take this day to not just thank a veteran, but to talk with veterans. Learn about how our experiences have shaped our lives and what issues we face as we make our transitions back to civilian life. I would like to explain my side of the story, my own experience.
When I joined the military I was a young, confused kid, who did not know much about life, due to being sheltered for most of my life by my over protective parents. I did not know much about the war, just that I was enraged at the hatred those terrorists had for all Americans and me. I wanted to help my country, to protect it at all cost, even giving up my life to do so. It may sound funny but when I initially tried to enlist in the military, I was to be a military post-man, but the job had already been taken. Since I am color-blind, I wasn’t able to have a range of opportunities in the military. My placement was therefore in Mortuary Affairs Specialist. I felt that I grew up quicker in my years in service than most people do in their whole lifetime.
I was nineteen years old on February 8th, 2002. It was kind of cold for Phoenix as I reached the Airport headed to Fort Jackson, in South Carolina for basic training. Upon reaching Fort Jackson, referred by some in the service as relaxant Jackson, I found that the life I had chosen would not be as easy as I thought. Those first couple of days I got a hair cut, issued uniforms, and learned the waiting line for training was long. During this time, since 9/11, there was a mass influx of new recruits; the Army had problems finding them units to train in. For me I was lucky kind of, since I had a school date that did not come around very often, they tried to offer me another job, but I turn them down, I was shipped from Fort Jackson, then to Fort Lenderwood Missionary. The Ozark Mountains are cold and during winter, it was unbearable. It was an extreme change for me because I was mostly familiar with the hot weather in Phoenix, AZ. Exercising and running in extreme weather with being out shape was horrible. There was no special treatment for anyone but the drill sergeants made me work twice as hard. The treatment I received was something similar to a movie, where the fat kid got picked on and abused, but it was some thing I needed in order to become who I need to be. Despite this, I worked hard, did everything I was ordered to do, and eventually I graduated from boot camp with a new physique. During graduation, my fellow recruits honored me with “The Most Changed Person” reward, the Order of the Dragoon.
I was off to my next challenge, training for my MOS. When I reached Fort Lee, Virginia, I missed my start date and had to wait for the next one. This meant that I couldn’t get a pass to go anywhere; I had to just sit at the barracks, clean the floors, and do KP duty. After awhile this routine got incommodious. I was so happy on Memorial Day 2002, because the next day I was scheduled to start school. Then all of a sudden, I had horrible stomach pains, and could not figure what it was. So I was sent me off to the ER, the doctors initially diagnosed appendix problems. The one-hour surgery was then scheduled immediately, however it took five hours to complete. Apparently, my appendix had been ruptured for over a month including basic training. The surgeons said I am so lucky to be alive. I got a month off to recover and relax. When I got back to Fort Lee, I had to wait another month for class, so eventually when I got to school; I did my best to learn about my job and almost graduated at the top of my class. The reason why I did not graduate at the top of my class was due to my stomach muscles not fully recovering, which made doing sit-ups very hard. I did it because I wanted to join my unit at Fort Lee.
My feelings of excitement and wanting to serve were still in tact even after months of prolong waiting and recovery. In order to be all that I could be, to be the best, I exceed my own abilities by 120%. The mindset I had, came a long way (physically from Phoenix and mentally from the first story I heard about the terrorist attacks), I had really changed for the better. In the first year, I received my first (minor) medal, the Army Achievement Medal. With this acknowledgement from the Army, I wanted to speed up my deployment overseas to Afghanistan, but that wasn’t going to happen until March 18th 2003. According to orders, my team that I was assigned to from my unit wasn’t schedule to arrive in Iraq first. Instead, I worked in the Theater Mortuary Affairs Evacuation Point, a place that went nonstop for the first three months.
Sleep was limited to when I did not hear a helicopter, and when body’s slowed down coming in. In the states I had worked at the Richmond Morgue, but war was different. Instead of just seeing some one you did not know in the states, in Kuwait you learn to know every one, due to them wearing the same uniform, and inventorying all their personal effects, you knew who they wear when they left. Not only was our job to process Americans, but we also helped process British, and any other Allies. During this time I saw the mistakes we made, such as shooting British helicopter down with Sam missiles, and killing Brazilin journalist when we hit the wrong building, during that time I saw the horrors that mankind was possible of. I start experiences, problems, and tried to seek medical help, but I was deferred and told I would be fine. My excitement had come to an end, and I start to get in trouble, pretty soon my 1st Sgt, thought that I was not experiencing enough of the war, so he sent me to the Iraq, Camp Alsad. In Camp Alsad, was slow, but became difficult. Some of the soldiers I ate with at the chow hall, and knew were head on a rest and relaxation mission, but instead of making it, their helicopter was shot down. My team had to go clean the site, recover the bodies, and inventory their belongings. Man life is tough, but even tougher if you know the people. There were two other tough missions. The first were, when three Special Forces soldiers had been killed, when they were given orders not to shoot into a crowd even if they were receiving fire, not only did we have to process their bodies, but we also had to process the bodies of the people who had killed them. We are mortuary affairs first, and as such we have a moral obligation not to look at uniform, or lack of one, but to look at the person and understand their journey had come to a end, and it was our job to treat them with respect because every one has family and friends that care for them, it was not are job to judge right or wrong, which is very hard. The second tough mission was when we went with a convoy head to a site, that they had reportedly killed Sadam Husain, but in fact the compound was filled with animals and women and children. I do not think the Air Force meant to kill them, they were trying to do there job in following cell phone singles, and when they split, they went after the most likely target. On this mission two things had happened. One back in Alsad I was having bad night terrors, but the person in charge of my team figured the answer was not sending me back, but instead was to put me on night duty, and to change the location I slept on, in the location I was, this almost spelled disaster for me and my friend, when I woke up and started to scream at the top of my lungs, the people sleeping around the truck react and were about to shoot in the back of the truck, when my Sgt yelled stop he is just dreaming, oh thank god. The second thing is as I stated before, we are trained to respect the dead, and their belongings. This did not transfer to the people there, instead they were ordered to bury everything, destroy all evidence and move on. That pretty much covers Iraq.
When I got back to the states, I faced many hardships under the care of the Army. I am like millions of other veterans dealing with mental and physical scars of war. Most Americans will never know about these issues because it is not covered in the news or articles. The Army has become a two-sided issue for me; it was once a place where I wanted to succeed at being a great solider and fight for our rights and our country. Now that I came home I am still fighting another battle, however, this fight, I fight alone. I am trying to cope with sudden flashbacks, traumatizing combat events, hyper-vigilance to the recurrence of danger, feelings of numbness, low self-esteem, rage, and lapses in concentration. All of these have caused me to descend in my quality of life. I thought the Army and my unit would continue to care for me, treat me as a fellow solider, and assist me with finding resources for coping and healing. However, this was not the case, my unit classified me as a troublemaker, an unfit solider. As a result, they discharged me out of the Army abruptly without taking responsibility for the causes of my PTSD illnesses. Like other soldiers, I tried to reach out for help but once the system failed, I tried to commit suicide twice during my service. Luckily, both times, one of my few friends stopped me. This incident put me in a mental hospital involuntarily, where they doped me up on strong medicines, and no one cared to seek the reasons behind the action. I wasn’t allowed to receive my care at the Army hospital, because if procedures were followed, there would have been a long investigation and no one wanted to take the time to take care of their wounded soldiers with PTSD. Instead, I was discharged immediately with personality disorder. This seems to be the common practice for the Army, not just in my case but also 20,000 other veterans. At 5 P.M. September 16, 2004, my last official orders from the Army were, TO GET OUT!! Heavily medicated, I received my car keys, and was told to drive over 5000 miles, all the way home to Phoenix, Arizona. My feelings that proscribed afterwards are indescribable.
Even though I am still in my own body, this whole experience has shaped my life. Following my physical return home to Phoenix, AZ, I, however, didn’t return home with my state of mentality. My homecoming wasn’t what I imagined, that is because it was based on tv and movies I’ve seen about returning soldiers as hero’s. I became hospitalized time and time again.
Don’t worry, my story gets better and does have a great beginning. This new chapter in my life begins with the chance meeting the love of my life, my wife. With her continued support, I am able to handle some things on my own. A great support system, love, understanding, and patience, is what I think all soldiers should have and receive upon their return home. After all, the important issue is that we are all humans! With the good and the bad, we will always have our memories.
So on this Veterans Day and every day the best way to honor our veterans is to connect with them. So please remember and honor our fellow humans, our veterans. Without recognition from our family and friends, it doesn’t seem like all of our efforts make a difference. Many of us new veterans are being left behind, we have honored you by defending your rights, and all we ask is to welcome us home.
Sincerely,
Joshua C. Poulsen
Iraq and Afghanistan Veteran