If there's one thing I want people to know about Andrew Breitbart is it this: he was fun. No more words, just this image from my photo vault, of a fine day spent with him and friends as we protested against Code Pink. We were a ragtag noisy bunch of varying degrees of political persuations, but all troop supporters. Andrew on roller blades zipping past the fundraiser shouting out to celebrities: "Sallllllllly? Sallllly Kellllermannnnn?" Daniel laying on the ground, Melanie stomping her feet, flags waving. We would circle around the fundraiser, and eventually, Andrew, myself and Mickey Kaus (a neighbor who just happened to look out the window and come out) ended up behind the house, next to the garbage cans talking about Jerry Brown. "He would be so much more fun," admitted Breitbart, of Jerry Brown, if he were to win the race for California governor. (Fun to needle, he meant, and for Andrew, needling was the most fun he could have).
He died last night, and that is sad. Because Andrew was a fun person, who made the rest of us have fun doing what we believed was right that day. For some reason, the song Daydream Believer just seems apropos right now.
Recently, Chuck Cordle tried to get his father's last dying wish fulfilled. To have his name added to the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial Wall after he died. Chuck has started a cause, and you can find it here: Put Sarge On The Wall.
Sarge, best known for his popular blog "Sarge Charlie," didn't die in combat in Vietnam. He was, however, a veteran of that war and was sprayed with Agent Orange.
Agent Orange was used to defoliate the forests of Vietnam. It was also directed at farmlands and got into the food chain and water supply. This herbicide was developed by Monsanto and Dow chemicals. While in Vietnam, the veterans were told Agent Orange was "harmless." From Wikipedia:
"During the Vietnam War, between 1962 and 1971, the United States military sprayed nearly 20,000,000 US gallons (75,700,000 l) of chemical herbicides and defoliants in Vietnam, eastern Laos and parts of Cambodia, as part of Operation Ranch Hand."
The effects were broad sweeping, sociopolitically, environmentally, and on health.
"Vietnam estimates 400,000 people were killed or maimed, and 500,000 children born with birth defects." -Wikipedia
For U.S. Veterans, the effects were also great.
"Studies showed that veterans who served in the South during the war have increased rates of cancer, and nerve, digestive, skin and respiratory disorders. Veterans from the south had higher rates of throat cancer, acute/chronic leukemia, Hodgkin's lymphoma and non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, prostate cancer, lung cancer, colon cancer, soft tissue sarcoma and liver cancer. Other than liver cancer, these are the same conditions the US Veteran's Administration has found to be associated with exposure to Agent Orange/dioxin, and are on the list of conditions eligible for compensation and treatment. -Wikipedia [35]"
Sarge Charlie was one of these. After the war, he battled cancer three times. Finally, it killed him last month.
Chuck wants nothing more than to have his father's name on the wall. However, his request has met rejection from one former Army LtColonel, who told him that in order to get your name on the wall, you must have died in combat. But I want to point out: the wall is not run by the Army. It is run with funds from a private, nonprofit organization. (Correction noted by Chuck: the DOD decides who gets on and who doesn't, and a virtual wall has been added. See Chuck's point of view below in the comments).
I'm not one for messing around with tradition. In fact I didn't join the cause at first because I am uncomfortable with changes to our public institutions. But then I remembered some of our patients from our private practice.
As time goes on and our understanding of the struggles that occur in the aftermath of war broaden, I think there is room to discuss the intent of this memorial. While he did not die in combat, Sarge died as the result of the after effects of war. As did so many others. Whether it was Agent Orange, or PTSD that led to self-isolation, alcoholism, or suicide, the affects of war sometimes led to a death that could take decades to complete. It was tortuous, and often no one believed them when they said that they felt sick. They thought they were going crazy, and sometimes that kind of rejection just drives some people under.
So I'm open to adding his name, and others. Because to not recognize their deaths is giving a free pass to companies who profit greatly off war, and in comparison, give very little back to those who fight. I don't know how the families of those whose names are carved in the wall will feel. But let me point out the obvious: they were all brothers (and sisters --because I do count nurses and other women who served) in arms. They served together. They fought together. They saw awful things. They shared laughs, and fears. Those who lived past combat, thought of their fallen comrades all the time. Why would one veteran reject another?
The addition of the names will necessitate more panels on the wall. But let every American truly comprehend the real costs of war, and never repeat the mistakes of the past. Let us all understand the power of these large corporations, and how they affected not only those who were sprayed by Agent Orange, but also left their families to watch them suffer, and by circumstance, suffer as well.
Some might disagree. And I'm fine with that. To the late Sarge and to Empress Bee, whose kindness has served as a beacon in the early days, when I felt lost.
(Names have been changed) From the Hubs' photos of his deployment in Afghanistan on a Spanish airbase.
"Helena, left, is a psychiatrist who does helicopter rescues.
Roselia, her friend is one of the nurses. The flags are Bulgarian."
When was the last time you heard of a shrink doing helicopter rescues?
GAME CHANGER: Perhaps we need to make helicopter rescues mandatory for all doctors training to be psychiatrists in their final three years of residency.
Last year at this time, our hopes were up high. The military community had taken a small film to heart. We were thrilled when Restrepo was given a nomination by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences. In other words, we were in a race for the little gold man. So this crowd of mothers, fathers, veterans, sisters and brothers, wives and husbands did something they normally don't do. They watched the Oscars.
As we did, we remembered PFC Juan Restrepo, the medic, son, soldier, father, and friend who was killed in the Korengal Valley. The man for whom the combat outpost was named, and was paid tribute to by the men who served alongside him.
We didn't win the Oscar, but as a community we triumphed by coming together for those who fight and for each other.
Along with others, I'm grateful for the work of both Sebastian and Tim.
Like the soldiers, and many of the families, I remain friends with Sebastian, and carry Tim in my heart as I work on WarRetreat.org (the blog started to honor him) and other creative ventures.
Tonight, I'll watch the Oscars. I'm hoping Danfung Dennis wins for Hell And Back Again. I'll be waiting for when the Academy pays tribute to members who died this past year. Tim was one of them. When his picture rolls by ...which reportedly was a really "hot" photo of him, I'll raise my glass. Well done, Tim. Thank you. You and Sebastian made a difference.
Please see the collection of photos made by people who were inspired by the film.
There are two films I'd like you to consider, not because they're pleasant or happy to watch, but because they feature topics that make us uncomfortable. The way I figure it, unless we are willing to hear even the unpleasant stories or those that outrage us, then as a military family, we're of no use to one another. When we let partisan politics divide us on issues of clean water or rape, we are less than noble.
Please watch these films as they become available on DVD, in the theater, online, or on Netflix.
Thank You
SemperFi, Always Faithful
The Invisible War
Also see:
Camp Lejeune Historic Drinking Water Information & Registry.
This is to inform you that while I tried to get a midlife crisis filed in under the wire, I have yet to follow through and submit one. I'm afraid that I've missed the deadline for "midlife" completely, and it's incredibly past due. Some would say I'm in the downward slide of my last twenty years. However, if this is a plunge to some other destiny, I've been much too distracted to notice.
So I'm wondering if I should just dispense with the notion of having a midlife crisis all together. Unlike others, I either misplaced or never received the requisition form for the red convertible, or dating a species of a younger age. In addition, I never quit a job to take a wandering journey either across America, Africa or through Asia because my career has been rather random. Hence, if I did leave to go anywhere, no one would have noticed.
I didn't realize the deadline had passed until I had to really think about my age. You see, I still feel as awkward as a 28 year old, and there are times when my naivete is akin to an eighteen year old. Given the rapid shift in technology, this isn't surprising.
Enclosed, please find the pass I was supposed to use when I approached the turnpike into my midlife crises. I'm sorry it's stained with coffee and crumpled. I found it under the seat of my car, along with empty soda cans and six receipts from Starbucks. Since teenagers seem to be hardwired for cynicism, I think you should consider moving midlife crisis to 25 or at the latest, 30. Maybe you can issue it to one of them. I'm sure it will be very dramatic. I'll be sure to honk, when I'm driving by in the blue Subaru sedan when I see a red sports car on fire.
I've been traveling a lot the past two weeks. It always throws me off, and so it takes awhile before the brain is able to write. The past week, I attended the first screening HIGH GROUND, the documentary produced by Don Hahn (The Lion King) and directed by three time Emmy award winner Michael Brown. High Ground premiered on the big screen at the Boulder International Film Festival this past weekend. In attendance were 7 of the veterans who climbed Mt. Lobouche, a 20,000+ ft peak in Nepal.
Kate "Rizzo" Raggazino, Ashley Crandall, Chad Butrick, Justin Moore, Steve Baskis, Chad Jukes, Cody Miranda, and Nico Maroulis flew in from various parts of the country to attend. Lona Parten, Ike Isaacson, Dan Sidles and Matt Nyman couldn't attend, but were in our thoughts.
They come from all branches of the military, but all have a common bind: the experience of war. What's more is their families have gone through it too. So a film like High Ground is incredibly important because it hits a lot of notes: the loneliness of coming home and trying to make that transition, a Gold Star mother's recollection of a son who lived big, but was lost in a horrendous battle. The audience also witnesses teamwork amid a group of very different personalities, and lastly, to see both individual and group victories as they work their way to the top. The mountain is a metaphor for challenges seen and unseen. It's not just the mountain to conquer, it's a certain darkness that threatens to loom over those who have been through war and overtakes them unless they find their breath and take a step forward.
The audience laughed, cried and cheered during the film. But what I want to impart to you is what happened after the screening. Don and Michael took the stage, and then the veterans came on --to thunderous applause and a standing ovation.
Cody Miranda with one of his former Marine students
It was good to see this group of men and women who have gone through war receive such an outpouring of gratitude.
Something amazing happened. During the Q&A, a young man stood up. He looked at Cody Miranda and asked, "Were you at Coronado, because I think I remember your smile." Cody replied, "Yeah, I was your Re-con teacher." The audience laughed, and then the young man quoted something that Cody had often told his men. It was a quote about life, and how to live. He told the audience that even though he was out, Cody was still teaching him because he thought of those words all the time.
Cody and others in the climbing group trained thousands of young men and women over the course of their military career. During the arduous weeks of training perhaps they wondered if their words would impart some greater lesson about life, and that maybe some of it would stick. In the case of this young man it did, and it was great to have it confirmed so many years later.
The views expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of the Department of the Army, Department of Defense, or the United States government.
"I read your wife's blog." -Tim Lynch, Free Range International (as said to my husband downrange)
"I mean, I'm a guy, and I love your blog." -Jerry Newberry, VFW's The National Defense Radio Show "Your site is art in action."-Chester Aaron, author of 18 books, US Army, liberator of Dachau "Greetings, Kanani. You are one damned fine writer. Keep it up and stretch out to other areas. There's got to be a book in you." -Pulitzer Prize winning journalistAl Martinez and Korean War Veteran.
"You are a great writer and you do it everyday."Journalist Bob Ehlert, The Sacramento Bee
Posts
