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Subject: September 11th Ceremony |
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Dear Family and Friends,
Yesterday was a significant day in my life. It was a day I shall never forget…
It began, as every Sunday does for me in prayer, study and preparation for worship. Our numbers were down somewhat because of the OP TEMP (operation tempo – i.e. the pace, speed and numerical involvement of our soldiers in battle) but I was satisfied with our first service. I especially enjoyed the music of our choir/praise team. Immediately afterward, Dave and I grabbed lunch and then we headed over to an awards ceremony. It was the third ceremony I have attended since we have been here, however, the previous two were for soldiers in other companies. At this ceremony, Dave and I both knew, we would be receiving an award, along with every other soldier in our company.
As you know and others will learn, soldiers wear something called a unit patch on their left sleeve. A unit patch is a means of identifying what unit a soldier belongs to. It is a symbol of pride and solidarity. Our division, the 28th Infantry Division, the Pennsylvania Army National Guard is the oldest in the Army. We can trace our historical roots to Benjamin Franklin’s “Associators” in the 1740s. We were nicknamed, “Iron Soldiers” during WW I because the men were so tenacious and tough. Others call us the “Keystone” division because we are from the Keystone state. In fact, our unit patch is a simple keystone design much like you might see in any brick or stone archway. The Nazis named us the “Bloody Buckets” for the price our fathers and grandfathers forced them to pay in battle and because the Keystone patch they wore at the time was red, just as it is now on our dress uniforms. I, like all of our soldiers, am proud to be a part of this division, not simply for it historical achievements and accomplishments but also for what we are doing now. The National Guard of Pennsylvania is the most deployed Guard in the country. Many of our soldiers are on their second and third deployments since 9/11. We will go anywhere, endure any hardship, and fight any enemy to secure America’s freedom and safety. Which brings me back to yesterday.
The awards ceremony was held in order to present our soldiers what the Army calls, the “Shoulder Sleeve Insignia for Former War Time Service”. Soldiers simply call it a “Combat Patch”. Basically it gives us the privilege and honor to wear our unit patch, not only on our left sleeve, but now, because we are combat veterans, we may also wear it on our right sleeve. Soldiers always look up to other soldiers wearing a combat patch because we know they’ve been there, they have done what soldiers train to do. Some of us may someday transfer to other units. We may wear a different unit patch on our left sleeve but we will always be permitted to wear the patch of the 28th on our right sleeve since we served in combat under this great and historic division.
What was so significant about yesterday, was not simply receiving the prestigious award. What was significant for me and several others was the date…September 11th. The irony was not lost on us. We were awarded our combat patch on the very date this war began. As my friend, Tom put it, “I wouldn’t have it any other way”, because none of us have forgotten that horrific day, a day that penetrated us and the heart of America four years ago. We all remember where we were, what we were doing, when we learned America was under attack. I suspect the same is true for all of you. There is not one among us who can forget that soul retching day as we sat in stunned silence, others gathered up their children and held them, some wept, some called families and friends, some rushed to the armory, others rushed to church, some fainted, some fell to their knees and other clenched their fists in a vow of revenge. Little did any of us know then, that four years later, we would be in a distant place, far from home living, working and fighting while our families try to carry on without us.
The importance of the date was also not lost to our enemy. He attacked us, just as the ceremony was closing, with the largest rocket and mortar attack we’ve had to date. We immediately responded with ferocious lethal firepower of such magnitude, it seemed as if the whole earth was shaking and about to fall apart as we ran out of the building to our duty stations.
Thankfully, no one on our side was hurt. We can’t be sure about the enemy. But of this am sure, it was an ironic honor, even a blessing to be here in this place, standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters at arms, taking everything the enemy could throw at us just as they did four years ago, but this time, like the crew and passengers of Flight 93 above Pennsylvania’s green hills and valleys, fighting back. I am sure you will also remember as well, the statement made by one of the passengers, when they initiated their counter attack, “Let’s Roll”. It’s hauntingly similar to the 28th motto, “Roll On”.
And so we shall. Until the mission is complete, we will roll… |
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Dear Family and Friends,
I hope this letter finds you well…healthy in mind, body, spirit and heart. We here in Iraq remain so and pray the same for you. Although we are separated from you by geography, nothing else keeps you from us. You are always with us. You are our first thought as the sun rises and our last thought when we lay down, long after the sun has set. Whether our bed is a bunk, cot, sand, concrete floor, fighting position, vehicle, mat, chair, rock pile or a few sand bags, you are with us. We miss and long for the time when we can spoon again, to feel your touch and caress but for now, we hold you tight every night, if only in our hearts and minds. Some soldiers do this by holding the pictures of loved ones as they slip into the peace of sleep. Others tack the pictures to their walls. Some tape them to their computers; others carry them in their Bibles and kiss them each night or morning after they have read a short passage. Moving through the living quarters, I have seen battl
ed hardened soldiers sleeping with the erratic crayon drawings of a small child on their chest…or on the floor, where it floated, just out of reach of daddy’s exhausted outstretched dirty hand…. Please never doubt, you are with us.
And thank you for reminding us each and every week, we are with you. For example, in just the past two weeks, we have received care packages from Oregon, California, Texas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, New Jersey, Ohio, and more small towns in Pennsylvania than I can count. In some ways, everyday is Christmas Day for Dave and me as we open your gifts and packages. We see your support. We feel your support…and we are grateful, more so than you could possibly know or understand, unless you have lived in these circumstances. And as we distribute the goodies, the irony is, the soldiers thank us, as if we had anything to do with your expressions of love and support!
But I also must be honest with you, some of our soldiers, and I emphasize the word some, feel as if they are forgotten, neglected or unappreciated. I’ve had several conversations in the past two weeks with different officers, NCOs and enlisted soldiers who all feel let down by friends, co-workers or family members. These people in one fashion or another promised our soldiers (and soldiers in combat are big on promises…with almost everything else stripped from us, a person’s word is all we really have), these people promised to stay in touch, to write, to drop an e-mail, or to send a package. But now with two months already under our belts in theatre, these soldiers wonder what’s happening. As one boy put it to me, “What do they have going on that’s more important than dropping me a note when people are trying to kill me everyday?”
I’m not exactly sure how to respond. I try. I tell them how busy people are, how much time work and the kids consume…but, I also can read it in their eyes. They think my answers are shallow and hollow. |
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Subject: Time Well Spent-Be Sure to Read to the Very End |
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Dear Family and Friends,
Hello! October…I can hardly believe it! My favorite time of the year to climb, ride, run and swim (yep, that’s right, swim…in the strip mine ponds or Scrubgrass Creek near Westminster Highlands. Natalie, Michael, Andy and Rebecca all know what I’m talking about…those are great days. Thanks one and all). Cool evenings and comfortable days. A smorgasbord of colors and chances to get outdoors. The Applefest up in Franklin, camping in my beloved Allegheny National Forest or antiquing in the unique small towns of central Pennsylvania. It’s always seemed to me, although fall is the prelude to winter’s long night’s rest, it is the busiest and yet the most peaceful time of the year. I don’t quite understand this seemingly antithetical contradiction but it’s my experience and I accept it. In fact, I rejoice in it and celebrate it, so I hope you all will take advantage of this time. Go up to Terry’s cabin and soak in the Indian summer, as well as, the love of one another, h
iking the trails, canoeing the streams and sitting around the campfire drinking hot chocolate with Peppermint Schnapps, telling ghost stories and laughing until your sides split. Take advantage of every minute because you just never know…
We certainly have learned how things can change. Last Saturday, almost 24 hours after Dave and I were struck by an IED, a brave Marine reservist, SGT Brian Dunlap, was killed by another IED in the exact same spot. Brian was, like so many of the men and women I have met here, the best of the best. He was a professional firefighter from California. He understood danger. All firefighters do. He did what others would not do, he went where others would not go and he sacrificed what few are willing to surrender. |
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TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN (2001-911) | Close |
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Two thousand one, nine eleven
Three thousand plus arrive in heaven
As they pass through the gate,
Thousands more appear in wait
A bearded man with stovepipe hat
Steps forward saying, "Lets sit, lets chat"
They settle down in seats of clouds
A man named Martin shouts out proud
"I have a dream!" and once he did
The Newcomer said, "Your dream still lives."
Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
Others in khaki, and green then say
"We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the
Maine"
The Newcomer said, "You died not in vain."
From a man on sticks one could hear
"The only thing we have to fear.
The Newcomer said, "We know the rest,
Trust us sir, we've passed that test."
"Courage doesn't hide in caves
You can't bury freedom, in a grave,"
The Newcomers had heard this voice before
A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores
A silence fell within the mist
Somehow the Newcomer knew that this
Meant time had come for her to say
What was in the hearts of the five thousand
plus that day
"Back on Earth, we wrote reports,
Watched our children play in sports
Worked our gardens, sang our songs
Went to church and clipped coupons
We smiled, we laughed,
! we cried, we fought
Unlike you, great we're not"
The tall man in the stovepipe hat
Stood and said, "Don't talk like that!
Look at your country, look and see
You died for freedom, just like me"
Then, before them all appeared a scene
Of rubbled streets and twisted beams
Death, destruction, smoke and dust
And people working just 'cause they must
Hauling ash, lifting stones,
Knee deep in hell, but not alone
"Look! Blackman, Whiteman, Brownman, Yellowman
Side by side helping their fellow man!"
So said Martin, as he watched the scene
"Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."
Down below three firemen raised
The colors high into ashen haze
The soldiers above had seen it before
On
Iwo Jima back in '45
The man on sticks studied everything closely
Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly
"I see pain, I see tears,
I see sorrow -- but I don't see fear."
"You left behind husbands and wives
Daughters and sons and so many lives
Are suffering now because of this wrong
But look very closely. You're not really gone.
All of those people, even those who've never met you
All of their lives, they'll never forget you
Don't you see what has happened?
Don't you see what you've done?
You've brought them together, together as one.
With that the man in the stovepipe hat said
"Take my hand," and from there he led
Three thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven
On this day, two thousand one, nine eleven
Author UNKNOWN |
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