Posted on 12/17/2002 7:32:02 AM PST by HairOfTheDog
Come on! Come in! -if you would like to have some seedcakes and a pint and relax a while. (If it is a special occasion, we still have a few bottles of the old wineyards left!)
Our first thread ( New Zealander builds Hobbit hole ) reached 4,100 posts, and we thought that was big. Our second thread (The New Hobbit Hole ) held us for over 48,000 posts, and we loved it dearly. We talked about moving to a new thread for the last 38,000 posts, but we are really slow to muster! Finally, the time has come. Tomorrow (at 12:01 am, to be precise!) The Two Towers comes out, and we start a new chapter.
you can say that here.
And I second that notion.
I received an email from my friend who got me in touch with the chaplain in Afghanistan. She got this article from his wife. She said that our chaplain was one of the ones referred to in the article.
POSTED: 10:32 a.m. CST March 31, 2003 U.S. authorities identified the fatal victims as Army Special Forces Sgt. Orlando Morales, 33, of Manati, Puerto Rico, and Staff Sgt. Jacob L. Frazier, 24, a member of the Illinois Air National Guard from St. Charles, Ill. McInerney is stationed at the Field Hospital at the Kandahar Air Base, serving in the 307th Field Support Battalion. This is her story.
30 MARCH 2003 Yesterday? I will never forget. Definitely the most memorable and significant day of my time here. A call came in over the radio: "NET CALL, NET CALL, NET CALL. We have a possible mass casualty situation. U.S. Special Forces units are in contact now. Stand by for activation of ground QRF." The clinic froze for about 3 whole seconds. Then it was chaos -- controlled chaos, because we've practiced this drill many times before. We even wondered, at first, if this was a drill. But it was real, and casualties were due in 45 minutes. We got information in bits and pieces. First we heard that two were WIA and one was KIA. Then the number jumped to 4 WIA and 1 KIA. People started to gather outside the clinic. The chaplains came [our chaplain was one of these] and representatives from the soldier's unit came and curious onlookers came in droves. We all waited in silence. Some waited with tears in their eyes. A nervous anticipation filled the air. Occasionally, I would go outside with an update on the casualty's injuries and ETA. When the UH-60 Blackhawk finally landed, three patients were rushed in on litters. The first was taken directly into the surgical team. The other two men were brought into the trauma bays. The soldiers were messed up pretty bad. All had multiple gunshot wounds with two sucking chest wounds and one who was shot in the head. As they carried in the man shot in the head, there was a USSF medic with him -- a huge guy. He was doing CPR and counting loudly, "1-2-3-4-5? I can't get a pulse!" You could hear the desperation in his voice. The soldier died soon after. I was watching everything in slow motion. I watched as the soldier's hand slowly dropped off the litter. His hand looked so small and delicate now. I looked at his watch -- it was still working but the soldier was gone. His clothes had been cut off and we began to sort through them in an attempt to discover the soldier's religion. I put on gloves and began to search his blood-soaked pockets. I found no ID, only tape, notes, Chap Stick, and other personal belongings -- everyday things that we all carry, but these items were now sacred, belonging to the dead, and covered in blood. They took his watch off his wrist and gave it to the Sergeant Major who was collecting all of his things -- a grown man, a tough man, a man whose face was marked with the signs of age and too much sun. This man now seemed weak and nervous. He had tears in his eyes. The only identification that we found was the soldier's name ... written by his own hand on the tag of his BDU blouse. It was his handwriting. I saw his possessions. I saw him die. I began praying right there, and I prayed for the rest of the day. "Lord, today I have seen what his family will never see but will always wonder about. I watched this soldier die. Please be with his family. Watch over them. Let them turn to you for comfort." We draped his body with a blanket and moved him to a smaller room. There was another body in there already. The other wounded soldier had also died. I never saw him except for his toes, which were now sticking out the bottom of the blanket. It was like he was just sleeping there. I stood there with the bodies for a long time. I looked into the faces of my soldiers. No one cried. They were tough, professional medics. But they all stared way off somewhere. Somewhere lost in thoughts of what they had seen, of their own families, maybe questioning why we are even in this dusty country. Some were angry. I began to work with the mortuary affairs representatives to complete the necessary death certificates and other paperwork. I learned the name of the other covered soldier ... People started to gather now outside the OR. There was one soldier in there still fighting for his life. The surgery went on for almost six hours. There was still blood all over the floor, and medics worked to quickly clean it up. We all prayed that this soldier would live. He did. Praise God. I came into the clinic this morning to check on him. He is awake now and trying to talk. It is so refreshing to see him move his feet and try to speak. It will be a long road to recovery for him. He almost died in surgery last night many times. I have seen the blood. I've seen gunshot wounds. I've seen people die. But all were Afghanis. None wore the same uniform as me. None were Americans -- brought to this country to bring Freedom to these people. You probably won't hear about these deaths on the news. Iraq dominates the broadcasts now. Also, these guys were Special Forces. They work in secret. They don't wear nametags. They are all John Doe. But to me they were ... (name withheld) and ... (name withheld). I didn't know them in life, but they were my brothers. My brothers in the military. The Army will take care of their families. Some time last night a soldier member came to ... (their mothers') houses wearing their Class A uniform. They came bearing the news of what happened. They came to inform, comfort, and be the rock. I will never forget yesterday. Copyright 2003 by NBC5.com. NBC5.com
From The Battlefield: 'Yesterday? I Will Never Forget'
Soldier Writes Personal Experience Treating Soldiers After Ambush
UPDATED: 2:53 p.m. CST March 31, 2003
CHICAGO -- Two soldiers were killed in Afghanistan Saturday when four gunmen on motorcycles ambushed their patrol. Another American and three Afghan soldiers were wounded in the attack.
March 31: Illinois Dad Says Soldier Killed In Afghanistan 'Was Chasing Bad Guys'
A Tinley Park mother got an e-mail from her daughter, Alyson McInerney (pictured, left), who was among those who treated the soldiers after the ambush attack: "This is an explanation of what happened here the other day. I sat down and typed it yesterday (Saturday, after the attack). I took the complete names out to protect the soldiers' families."
Don't know, I'd like to try one out on a Democrat though.
We're getting there. We've been in the house for almost 7 years and I still feel like we're in transition. Not entirely our fault, but there's so much to be done.
When we moved in, we did the Richmond thing and set up the formal dining room, formal living room and nice guest room.
Then we got a big dog (not big when we got him, but just add water and alpo...), and a new kid. So we gave up on anything "formal." It's just not us anyway.
I think that finally with my m-i-l coming that we have things mapped out to the way we want them. At least until we can build on the Florida room, finish off the attic for Jr. and turn the garage into a family room...and we have no idea where that money is coming from.
God be with their families.
Get in line, Dear DT...
Ha! Mine too, luckily. Well said.
The labels fit exactly over the barcode and ISBN number only, didn't cover up anything else. I was able to cut the plastic off the front of the sets enough to slip the books out without removing the plasic all the way...it should be resealable after I put the labels in all the books.
I'll work on labels after lunch.
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