Posted on 12/22/2004 3:51:50 AM PST by ajolympian2004
By the time I got back to our compound it was all over the news. It seemed like the thing had just happened when in reality I had been neck deep in it for several hours. And there it was on TV. Frankly, it's kind of a blur.
The day began early as I didn't sleep very well last night. Once I was awake I decided not to just lay there and stare at the darkness so I got up, got dressed, shaved and headed into the TOC, the heart of what goes on. In the TOC (Tactical Operations Center) they monitor several different radio nets to keep abreast of what is happing in the area. It's the place to be if you want up to the minute information. When I arrived it was fairly calm. I made small talk with the guys there and sipped that first cup of morning coffee. The day was clear and there was very little going on, or so it seemed. A very short while later we received the initial reports. In this area there are several "camps" or "posts" that house the various combat and support units that do the day to day fighting and working around here. The first report said that a mortar had just hit one of the nearby chow halls during the middle of lunch (I'm on GMT so my morning is actually the middle of the day). It's called a MASCAL or Mass Casualty event and it's where the rubber meets the road in military ministry. They said there were approximately 10 casualties. That was the extent of it so I kind of filed it away in the back of my mind and continued to sip my coffee. The next report wasn't so good. 10 dead and approximately 50 wounded. They were being transported to the Combat Surgical Hospital down the street. The Chaplain at the CSH is a good guy and I knew he'd be in need of help so I woke my assistant and we rushed to the hospital. I didn't expect what I saw.
The scene was little more than controlled chaos. Helicopters landing, people shouting, wounded screaming, bodies everywhere. As the staff began to triage the dead and wounded I found the chaplain and offered my assistance. He directed me to where he needed me and I dove in. I would be hard pressed to write about every person I had the opportunity to pray with today but I will try to relate a few.
I found "Betty" on a stretcher being tended by nurses. I introduced myself and held her hand. She looked up at me and said, "Chaplain, am I going to be alright?" I said that she was despite the fact that I could see she had a long road to recovery ahead of her. Most of her hair had been singed off. Her face was burnt fairly badly, although it didn't look like the kind of burns that will scar. What I do know is that it was painful enough to hurt just by being in the sun. I prayed with Betty and moved on.
"Ilena" (a made up name. She spoke very softly and had a thick accent so I couldn't really hear her) had been hit by a piece of shrapnel just above her left breast causing a classic sucking chest wound. The doctors said she had a hemothorax (I think that's what they called it) which basically meant her left lung was filling with blood and she was having a very hard time breathing. For the next 20 minutes I held her hand while a doctor made an incision in her left side, inserted most of his hand and some kind of medical instrument and then a tube to alleviate the pressure caused by the pooling blood. It was probably the most medieval procedure I have ever been privy to. In the end she was taken to ICU and will be OK.
"Mark" was put on a stretcher and laid along a wall. A small monitor on his hand would tell the nurses when he was dead. Even a cursory glance said it was inevitable. Mark had a head wound that left brain matter caked in his ear and all over the stretcher he was lying on. I knelt next to Mark and placed a hand on is chest. His heart was barely beating but it was beating so I put my face close to his ear to pray with him. If you've never smelled human brain matter it is something unforgettable. I had something of an internal struggle. He's practically dead so why stay? He probably can't hear anything! A prayer at that point seemed of little value. But I couldn't risk it. I prayed for Mark and led him in the sinners prayer as best I could. There are few things in this life that will make you feel more helpless. After that, I needed some fresh air.
I stepped outside and found the situation to be only slightly less chaotic. The number of body bags had grown considerably since I first went inside. I saw a fellow chaplain who was obviously in need of care himself. I stopped him and put my arm around him and asked how he was doing. A rhetorical question if ever I asked one. He just shook his head so I pulled him in close and prayed for his strength, endurance, a thick skin, and a soft heart. Then I just stood and breathed for a few minutes.
Regardless of what some may say, these are not stupid people. Any attack with casualties will naturally mean that eventually a very large number of care givers will be concentrated in one location. They took full advantage of that. In the middle of the mayhem the first mortar round hit about 100 to 200 meters away. Everyone started shouting to get the wounded into the hospital which is solid concrete and much safer than being in the open. Soon, the next mortar hit quite a bit closer than the first as they "walked" their rounds toward their intended target...us. Everyone began to rush toward the building. I stood at the door shoving as many people inside as I could. Just before heading in myself, the last one hit directly on top of the hospital. I was standing next to the building so was shielded from any flying shrapnel. In fact, the building, being built as a bunker took the hit with little effect. However, I couldn't have been more than 10 to 15 meters from the point of impact and brother did I feel the shock. That'll wake you up! I rushed inside to find doctors and nurses draped over patients, others on the floor or under something. I ducked low and quickly moved as far inside as I could.
After a few tense moments people began to move around again and the business of patching bodies and healing minds continued in earnest. As I stood talking with some other chaplain, an officer approached and not seeing us, yelled, "Is there a chaplain around here?" I turned and asked what I could do. He spoke to us and said that another patient had just been moved to the "expectant" list and would one of us come pray for him. I walked in and found him lying on the bed with a tube in his throat, and no signs of consciousness. There were two nurses tending to him in his final moments. One had a clipboard so I assumed she'd have the information I wanted. I turned to her and asked if she knew his name. Without hesitation the other nurse, with no papers, blurted out his first, middle, and last name. She had obviously taken this one personally. I'll call him "Wayne". I placed my hand on his head and lightly stroked his dark hair. Immediately my mind went to my Grandpa's funeral when I touched his soft grey hair for the last time. And for the second time in as many hours I prayed wondering if it would do any good, but knowing that God is faithful and can do more than I even imagine. When I finished I looked up at the nurse who had known his name. She looked composed but struggling to stay so. I asked, "Are you OK?" and she broke down. I put my arm around her to comfort and encourage her. She said, "I was fine until you asked!" Then she explained that this was the third patient to die on her that day.
"Rachel" was sitting in a chair with no injuries. She was worried about two friends that had been moved to other hospitals in country. So we prayed.
"John", a First Sergeant, asked me, "How does my face look?" knowing he had been badly burned and would probably have some scaring. He was covered in blood, pus, and charred skin so I said, "First Sergeant, you look better than some people I know back home." He laughed and we prayed.
One of the many American civilian workers had been hit in the groin. He was happy to be alive and even happier to be keeping, "all my equipment." It was a light moment in a very heavy day.
As my assistnt and I walked away at the end of the day I saw another chaplain and a soldier standing among the silent rows of black body bags. The soldier wanted to see his friend one more time. We slowly and as respectfully as possible unzipped the bag to reveal the face of a very young Private First Class. His friend stared for a few seconds then turned away and began to cry.
The last count was 25 dead, and around 45 wounded. Nevertheless, our cause is just and God is in control even when the crap is a yard deep. I'm where God wants me and wouldn't change that for anything, even if it means death. After all, "to die is gain".
Father, we remember this day the ones who gave all. They placed themselves "between their loved homes and the war's desolation." They are not returning to their families, but have instead returned to the greater Home to which we all aspire one day. We remember this day their families who are left with a hole in the fabric of their lives. We ask that these who grieve will be comforted and healed. Let them experience as well in the quiet parts of their souls the resounding gratitude we feel toward them.
We remember this day those who have been wounded in body, mind, soul, or spirit. Father, we ask that you will surround them with your healing angels. Bring them to the greatest measure of peace and healing that is possible to them. Grant their families and friends who surround and love them with the gifts of infinite understanding, patience, and love. Let the strengths of these families be multiplied, and let the weaknesses be healed or supplied by your grace.
We remember this day the ones who are yet on the battlefield in the various fronts in the War on Terror. Protect with Heavenly Armor those who are in danger.
Amen
From Texokie's prayer thread...
Thanks for the comments, you are correct, that once the country has made the decision to stand where they stand what earthly good is it to attempt to put a wrench in the works. It only serves to make life more difficult for everyone involved. I'm thinking a few well advertised treason trials would soon squelch the nay-bobs, and neigh sayers (spelling on porpoise). Am I over the top?
Used to be quite a few treason trials back in Revolutionary days, but I think most of them were us being tried by Great Britian, so maybe my whole hypothesis about putting an end to the nattering nay-bobs of discontent wouldn't work but could it be worth a try. Then the classic "it is all bushes fault" would have some meaning.
Chaplains are great people. If the ACLU even thinks of laying their paws on the chaplaincy corps, I am going to have to kick some butt.
http://www.nypost.com/postopinion/editorial/36144.htm
The program, started in March of 2003, has distributed more than 80,000 phone cards so far. The USO plans to distribute many more over the holiday season to troops in Iraq and Afghanistan and to those recuperating from injuries in the U.S. and abroad. According to the USO, the phone cards are by far the most popular item requested by deployed troops.
Donations can be made online at https://www.uso.org/donate/default.cfm or over the phone by calling 1-800-876-7469.
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Who was minding the store, does not yet know; nor do they know what they should have, in the environs.
I could do a search for Croesus, but I will openly admit I don't know how rich he/she/it is, and further more not sure who he/she/it is. Sounds Roman, but I really don't know. Forgive me.
I have received a similar "season's greeting" from the new member, "American_Pig". He or she or it is using Freep-mail to spam this site.
Sorry - I normally try to keep the useless trivia in my posts to a minimum. Croesus, (? - 546 BC) Lydian king = very rich.
BTTT
So much for wealth. He crossed the river to his ruin. I guess it is good as long as you have it, but don't ever depend on it.
Thank you Meg - that's beautiful. I ache for these brave troops and I'm mad beyond reason at the filth who attacked them. If anyone at the White House and/or DOD reads these threads, unleash our military, hold nothing back, kill these BASTARDS quickly.
When words fail me..I go to the prayer thread and use the eloquence of others.
https://thor.aafes.com/scs/default.aspx
Military Exchange Prepaid Calling Cards
The Department of Defense Military Exchanges have been authorized to sell the following prepaid calling cards to individuals and organizations who wish to purchase these cards for our troops serving overseas in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Here's another source for calling cards .
"Am I over the top?"
Not even a little bit.
Public executions of those convicted of treason would be much appreciated by me.
Typical Peace Nazi. Why I say that? It's because American_Pig hates America and wants the enemy to prevail. Peace Nazis cloak themselves as pacifist. True pacifist truely oppose war or violence as a means to settle disputes...they want both sides to put down their arms and settle disputes by talking. True pacifist never take a side but Peace Nazis do. Peaceful protest for them is aiding, abetting and comforting the enemy. They hide behind our constitution and their right to free speech. Peace Nazis are not peace loving people...they are hateful...as you can see with American_Pig he wants to see our American soldiers killed off.
American_Pig and his twin American_Pigs are nothing more than smoking rubble. Thanks.
Praying...
THANK YOU!
You do great work. What angels we have in the Mods.
This is heartbreaking. God rest their souls and give their families peace and calm. God Bless America.
Pat, the kind of filth who could read something like this and make that kind of reply doesn't come from homes.
They come from the maggot infested squalor of rotten moral values and absence of human decency.
They are Satan's tools.
If God would just let me have ten minutes alone with him he'd never spew his filth again.
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