A
while back--- over a decade actually... I met a man coming home on a flight.
We were seated in
the rear of the plane for the duration of the 6 hour trip. His arm was in a cast and lifted
with a jack so arm, shoulder and elbow extended like a wing. A rather ungainly contraption on an aircraft with him on a right aisle seat. I offered him the seat on my side of the aisle so the arm would have the empty seat next to mine.
He was dressed in civilian clothing, but pressed and wrinkle free.
Clearly he was in pain, and when I looked closer the dressings were
fresh but dotted with post-surgery blood. Water was requested, and I
helped pull a medicine bottle out of a front jeans pocket. At the time this struck me as a very
intimate act to perform on someone I had just met.
I assisted with the cap, and two tablets were
taken moments before takeoff.
As the pain medication kicked in he relaxed in his seat and we talked ...
He spoke more freely than he normally would. Perhaps the narcotic pain medication created this window of opportunity.
He talked of the
crash that injured his arm and shoulder. Later he spoke of the bullet that
caused the crash and the surgery that followed. He talked of lives
lost. Of friends and co-workers and a few that were not friends.
He talked
of the pride of being an SOF member regardless of what branch each
member came from.
Of the teamwork and oddly of unique autonomy his job gave and required.
He talked of the missions and how he came to save
more lives than he took but was humane about those that he had to take.
He spoke of being thankful, to speak and download his
experiences... because at his level, therapy was not an option. At his
level--- asking for therapy was career ending. Team members were each others therapists... and rarely even then.
Never boasting, always with
humility, he spoke with the candor of a true professional. A soldier,
that would in any other career be a CEO or Director. He was equipped with a near
photographic memory and had test scores that have allowed him to have any
job in the world.... Even as an active duty military member he had two graduate degrees and a doctorate from the
best schools in the nation.
Nearly 20 years of active duty all
of it while maintaining a physical fitness level that would rival any
professional athlete in the nation--- if not an Olympic athlete.
Combat pay, jump pay, hazard pay,
and a dozen other bumps took his salary to nearly 75,000 a year. This was perhaps a tenth of what he would have made in the civilian world.
We spoke of the importance of training and education. I spoke of my own discovery of the depths
of my patriotism after years as a "rebel without a clue"and the amazing members of the military both past and active duty that I
had met since that discovery.
He talked of being the first
member of *any* military or LEA branch to respond to a hurricane because he
and a few others were dropped by air during the peak winds. The base was evacuated but something important was
left behind...
Without pride or ego he gave me a brief glimpse
of what it was to be a member of the most elite group of military
operatives on the entire planet. One of less than 100 men and women
that have probably saved the world more times than even they will
ever know....
Yet he was also keenly aware that his own life
was just one mission away from oblivion... and the "work phone" could ring
at any hour of any day.
To that one person, and his coworkers living and dead throughout time.
To those few that dedicate not just a career but an entire lifetime to
study "war" in all its forms--- A subject that no sane person never wants
to be part of...
To those many legions at every level of the
armed forces that we owe our lives, liberty and freedom to... every hour of every day
of every year.
To those who have given their lives, physical health, mental health, and even marriages.
To those who have done this throughout the history of this nation...
I take this moment to say "thank you."
We were seated in the rear of the plane for the duration of the 6 hour trip. His arm was in a cast and lifted with a jack so arm, shoulder and elbow extended like a wing. A rather ungainly contraption on an aircraft with him on a right aisle seat. I offered him the seat on my side of the aisle so the arm would have the empty seat next to mine.
He was dressed in civilian clothing, but pressed and wrinkle free.
Clearly he was in pain, and when I looked closer the dressings were fresh but dotted with post-surgery blood. Water was requested, and I helped pull a medicine bottle out of a front jeans pocket. At the time this struck me as a very intimate act to perform on someone I had just met.
I assisted with the cap, and two tablets were taken moments before takeoff.
As the pain medication kicked in he relaxed in his seat and we talked ...
He spoke more freely than he normally would. Perhaps the narcotic pain medication created this window of opportunity.
He talked of the crash that injured his arm and shoulder. Later he spoke of the bullet that caused the crash and the surgery that followed. He talked of lives lost. Of friends and co-workers and a few that were not friends.
He talked of the pride of being an SOF member regardless of what branch each member came from.
Of the teamwork and oddly of unique autonomy his job gave and required.
He talked of the missions and how he came to save more lives than he took but was humane about those that he had to take.
He spoke of being thankful, to speak and download his experiences... because at his level, therapy was not an option. At his level--- asking for therapy was career ending. Team members were each others therapists... and rarely even then.
Never boasting, always with humility, he spoke with the candor of a true professional. A soldier, that would in any other career be a CEO or Director. He was equipped with a near photographic memory and had test scores that have allowed him to have any job in the world.... Even as an active duty military member he had two graduate degrees and a doctorate from the best schools in the nation.
Nearly 20 years of active duty all of it while maintaining a physical fitness level that would rival any professional athlete in the nation--- if not an Olympic athlete.
Combat pay, jump pay, hazard pay, and a dozen other bumps took his salary to nearly 75,000 a year. This was perhaps a tenth of what he would have made in the civilian world.
We spoke of the importance of training and education. I spoke of my own discovery of the depths of my patriotism after years as a "rebel without a clue"and the amazing members of the military both past and active duty that I had met since that discovery.
He talked of being the first member of *any* military or LEA branch to respond to a hurricane because he and a few others were dropped by air during the peak winds. The base was evacuated but something important was left behind...
Without pride or ego he gave me a brief glimpse of what it was to be a member of the most elite group of military operatives on the entire planet. One of less than 100 men and women that have probably saved the world more times than even they will ever know....
Yet he was also keenly aware that his own life was just one mission away from oblivion... and the "work phone" could ring at any hour of any day.
To that one person, and his coworkers living and dead throughout time.
To those few that dedicate not just a career but an entire lifetime to study "war" in all its forms--- A subject that no sane person never wants to be part of...
To those many legions at every level of the armed forces that we owe our lives, liberty and freedom to... every hour of every day of every year.
To those who have given their lives, physical health, mental health, and even marriages.
To those who have done this throughout the history of this nation...
I take this moment to say "thank you."
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