The hardest days

For me, the hardest days on a US military base are when we have memorial ceremonies for fallen soldiers. Today was one of those days.

Does my job require me to go? No. But I feel compelled to attend to honor those soldiers and their families. Regardless of my beliefs of the right or wrong of this war, or rather THESE wars, these soldiers deserve to be honored.

If you've never been to one of these ceremonies, here's what happened today and what generally happens.

There's a prayer. The battalion commander pays tribute (says a few words about the loss to the unit and the loss of each individual). The company commander pays tribute.

For each soldier who is being memorialized, a soldier who knew him pays personal tribute. Today, the ceremony was for a major (a mid-level officer who was probably in his early 30s), a sergeant (early to mid-20s) and a corporal (early 20s). The guys paying tribute were all in their 20s, and I think two of the three were probably no more than 20-22. They're young, they've written heartfelt words, they're trying to keep it together and you feel their pain (although it was the battalion commander's -- the lieutenant colonel's -- voice that broke and he had to pause to choke back the sobs).

Then the chaplain reads a scripture and gives a brief talk. Then comes the hardest part, for me and -- judging by the sniffles in the crowd -- many others. The unit does a roll call.

Today the sergeant major called the names of about five soldiers who were present. When each is called, such as "Sergeant Smith," that soldier stands up and bellows out "Here, sergeant major!" So after about five of those, the name of the first fallen soldier is called. "Major Mescall." Silence and pause. "Major Brian Mescall." Silence and pause again. Finally, more slowly, "Major Brian Michael Mescall." Dead silence and pause yet again. And then the same is repeated for the other two, Corporal Hernandez and Sergeant Parsons.

I can't explain it, but it sends chills up your spine and somehow accents the absence of the fallen like no other part of the ceremony. After that final silent pause, a rifle is fired just outside for each of the fallen, so today there were three shots fired. Then Taps is played.

Then the general and battalion commander and sergeant major go up to the front. Up there, where you'd find an altar in a church, there's a set-up for each fallen soldier side by side. There's a pair of combat boots. There's a rifle standing straight up (barrel facing down) with a pair of dogtags draped over the top. And a kevlar helmet sits on top of the butt of the rifle. There's a framed photo of each of the soldiers.

When the brass goes up front, they leave unit coins (a military memento with unit insignia on it usually given to soldiers to recognize them for something positive they've done). The sergeant major today reached up and put his hand on top of each helmet as if he were a chaplain baptizing a baby's head. They walk away.

Soldiers from the unit play sergeant-at-arms. I don't know if that's the right term, but they stand there row to row, nodding to people that it's their turn to get up and pay tribute to the fallen. After the first few VIPs, they send four people up at a time because there are hundreds of people waiting.

I'm in the second-to-last row, so it takes quite a while to get up there, and I'm in line with three soldiers. One of them makes a little noise so they may salute in unison. We stand there for a minute taking the sight in, then one of them makes another noise so that they do an about face in unison and walk away. I follow behind.

There's a receiving line at the back with the battalion commander, sergeant major, company commander, the chaplain and the three guys who gave the tributes to their friends.

You don't have to walk through the receiving line, but I think it's important to tell the young guys at the end of the line that they did a good job. I'm trying not to be teary eyed, but it's tough. The battalion commander thanks ME for all we do (meaning Red Cross). If not for the fact that I would've gotten choked up, I would've said, "No, it is I who should be thanking you." But I can't say it. I just nod my head and tell him they did a great job today.

I tell each soldier in line that they did a great job. But when I get to the three young guys, their eyes are red and they're putting on a brave front, obviously just wanting this all to be over. I shake each of their hands vigorously, look them in the eye and tell them they did a great job. If I hadn't been about to burst into tears, I would've said, "You really honored your buddy today, and you should be proud."

I really don't think that anyone who is 18 or 20 or even 25 years old should have to stand there and be an "adult" and pay tribute to someone who died. It's too much. There were young soldiers in the room who probably didn't know the fallen, just like I didn't, but they came there to honor them. Some of these young guys were pale faced, wide eyed, somber. The reality of war, for those who haven't deployed, may be really hitting them here for the first time.

I'm on a post with only a few thousand soldiers. This is a training post (they train people here to go to war), and we only have 150-250 soldiers deployed to (typically Afghanistan) at any given time. This means that we don't have many losses and therefore few ceremonies. The last one I attended was back in the late summer or early fall 2007. I'm sure some of the larger posts have ceremonies every week.

Still, even one ceremony is too many. And I look forward to the day when we don't have to have them any more.

It's a new day

I'm sitting at my little desk in my little living room in Germany, the TV on at my side at 5:30 a.m. Wednesday. I just saw the Obamas dancing at the commander-in-chief's ball.

Here's what I wrote on a discussion board I belong to on Facebook (that focuses on personal growth, not politics) when asked to comment on hopes for the country on inauguration day:

What I wish for our country and its citizens. . .

That we will allow Obama the grace to be human -- that is, to succeed and to fail, because he will no doubt do both.

That we will allow his administration the time to do what they can and what they must. It took years for our country to get to where it is today, and it will take years to get back on the right track. The inauguration was "one giant step for mankind" in so, so many ways, but we always have more steps to take.

That we will all carry with us the spirit of hope that this new era embodies today more than ever, and that we will be reminded of this spirit if we begin to falter because we're not seeing success come fast enough and grand enough.

That we will all do our parts to make things right again. . . It all begins with taking one step and then another. We don't have to change the world, but we can work to make changes and improvements in our own little corners of the universe.

---------------

While I was still in Iraq, I asked a friend there what he thought about the election. He said he thought it was "interesting." Honestly. . . I pondered for a moment whether I could be friends with him! Interesting????? When I emailed him yesterday to ask more, he said he's politically neutral but recognizes the importance of this historic event. I emailed back that I didn't see how any thinking adult could not have an opinion after the last eight disastrous years. . . Needless to say, I didn't win any points there.

I try to practice tolerance. . . for people's religious, political, and personal views, whatever they may be. . . but "interesting" and politically neutral? How can one be this way at age 41? The older I get, the more challenging it is for me to be tolerant at times. I guess this is something I need to work on.

On a much lighter note, and in closing, yeah, I liked Michelle's wardrobe choices for the inauguration and the ball.

The Long, Lame Goodbye

The NY Times has an Op-Ed piece worth reading about the changing of the guard.

Inauguration concert today

As I was purusing the channels, I happened across the big concert for Obama that was held on the mall today. From Beyonce' to Pete Seeger, Stevie Wonder to U2. . . what a show!

Happy birthday, MLK Jr.!

On Thursday I went to a luncheon in celebration of Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday. The guest speaker was the chief of operations for the new AFRICOM (Africa Command), Major General Anthony Jackson.

The program started with the elementary school choir singing a couple of songs. Then MG Jackson asked everyone to sing happy birthday to King. That seemed a little silly and more for the sake of the children than the adults. . . but he pointed out that it IS supposed to be a birthday celebration, and we never celebrate birthdays without the song. So true. It was kind of fun, especially when it's rare to see a two-star general getting into it as much as the kids.

Jackson talked about the impact of King on his own life. After all, he'd been born in the mid-'50s and grew up with talk of integration and segregation. He said he'd joined sit-ins at lunch counters and taken other actions in line with King's call for a nonviolent movement.

I really thought this was going to be just another high-ranking military officer recapping a man's life. Instead, Jackson's first-hand accounts of experiences in and issues of the civil rights movement as they were directly influenced by King were incredibly moving.

It's Monday evening here in Germany. I've seen some footage on TV of Obama and what he's doing today. . . MLK day and the day before his inauguration. What great timing. Positive foreshadowing, I hope.

help! I've been sucked in and I can't get out!

Okay. . . I'm lagging on the blogging because I've gotten sucked in to Facebook the last couple of weeks. I've had an account there for a long time - over a year? But I never really used it.

Then several friends invited me to "be their friend" all around the same time. Now I'm finding more and more people I know. I've joined a group (GOYA Girls -- Get off your ass girls). The moderator, Cary Cooper, sends out a message every day on a different topic -- a quote from the "Skinny Bitchin': A Get Off Your Ass Journal," and she writes about it, then members comment on it. It's pretty good. I might get something out of it.

So now there's email (I have seven different accounts, but I only check three regularly, and two are under assumed names). And this blog. And Facebook. Feels like too many electronic social networking devices, but for now, I'm just going with the flow.

Tomorrow I'm driving over to Kaiserslautern for a night or two. My friend Donna who was on my team in Iraq is being stationed over in K-town and arrived there today. I'm going to welcome her and to hang out with her and a couple of her new co-workers in in the area, a couple of whom I know.

I need a small get-away. Hope you have a good weekend, too.

Oh, the Sordid Lives we lead

I'm home sick this weekend with a cold that hit on Thursday. Yesterday was the worst of it -- I was all aches and pains and probably slept off and on for 18 hours. I'm actually feeling human today.

This morning I watched Sordid Lives and highly recommend it. Leslie Jordan is fabulous, as are the other stars including Beau Bridges and Delta Burke.

I also watched Mamma Mia last night. I didn't have much hope for it, but it was pretty cute. I usually despise musicals.

The first three seasons of Boston Legal have also played on my TV these past few weeks. Thanks for the recommendation, Ronda! The series stars James Spader, William Shatner and Candice Bergen. Talk about irreverent.

Next up: Rome, Season 2.

Travel Well

Listen to this gorgeous song, Travel Well, written for Vic by Cary Cooper, Tom Prasada-Rao, Amy Speace and Jagoda. It's well worth the listen, even if you didn't know Vic.

A nice tribute to Vic

E-mails are flying all over about Vic's passing, and Facebook users are posting notes, writing on each other's walls, and "lighting candles" left and right. I found a nice note about Vic online on the Concerts in Your Home web site.

And here is Vic's obituary in the Washington Post.

A dear friend is gone

I heard today from Vic's son that Vic passed away last night at 9:15 p.m. EST.

R.I.P. Vic. You will be remembered and missed by so many.

Update on Vic

Friend Vic was taken off the ventilator on Dec. 26. The latest word from the family is that he's still hanging in there but that it probably won't be long now.

As I told his wife Reba in an email, Vic always did do things his own way.

Another reason to exercise

An article in today's New York Times online edition reports the results of a study at the Columbia University Medical Center on the effects of increased blood sugar levels on our memory.

The article Blood Sugar Control Linked to Memory Decline, Study Says reports that researchers recommend exercise since our blood sugar level is improved with physical activity.

Revolution

You say you want a revolution. . .

And revolution we will have. Or at least change. . .

I googled "define revolution," and this is the first definition that came up: a drastic and far-reaching change in ways of thinking and behaving.

Yes, we can.

A couple of weeks before the election, I called my Dad from Iraq. He brought up the election.

I try not to talk politics with him. He's pretty much a staunch Republican who voted for Bush both times. I respect his choice in that I know he has given it much thought over the years, and he votes for what he believes in. Being a Republican is not a choice he has made lightly -- I just don't happen to agree with it. In our last conversation about El Presidente Bush a year or two back, he was still defending GW and the war.

So when he brought up the election -- "Well, I guess the election's coming up" -- I drew in a breath and sat there quietly. Here goes. He's going to tell me how McCain HAS to win or this country's going to pot. I've heard it before.

His next words surprised me.

"Whoever wins, at least we will have a new administration."

I know my Dad. I can read into his words without his having to voice every single thought. This is the closest he's ever come to suggesting that perhaps Gee-Dub was NOT the best thing for our country, that it's time for a change.

Yes, we can. . . change, that is. Even old dad.

Looking back on 2008

I've been meaning to upload this video from Iraq. Now seems to be a good time as I'm looking back on the year that's just passed.

The best part of 2008 for me was getting to volunteer at the PAD (Patient Administration Flight) at the hospital in Balad, Iraq. There I helped to offload wounded and ill patients from helicopters and ambulances and take them into the ER.

It was a simple thing really. . . It just took a few minutes. It couldn't be done alone. It didn't even require a college degree -- just took a little training and practice. But for a few of those patients we offloaded, they were being medevac'd to save their lives, and we were a tiny part of that process. Simply put: It felt good. And it was an incredible adrenaline rush.

On this particular offload, friends Phil, Morgan and Hisey were part of the team. I spent a lot of time with them just sitting around waiting for the next helo -- we watched TV (including much of the Olympics, presidential debates, and bad movies), played foosball, did crosswords, BS'd, anything we could to pass the time.

We couldn't wish for a helo, because that would mean wishing for someone to be sick or ill. I finally came up with the right response though. If it's going to happen, I want it to happen on my watch so that I can help.

As a volunteer, I was allowed to stay in the ER and watch the medical staff work. Typically so many people surrounded the patient that I didn't get to see much. Still, I was inspired.

The more time I spent in the hospital, the more I came to see it as a living, breathing organism. With a father who is a retired surgeon and a mother who was trained as a nurse, I was exposed to medicine my entire childhood and, frankly, never had much interest in it. Some would say I avoided it at all costs.

So being a part of this organism was something of an epiphany to me; I started to get why people find medicine so invigorating. Wow, that's a first.