Tag: military

When the Demons Come – Memorial Day 2018

Once I loved a military man. My husband and I dated him after he’d already come home with his wound and his medal. We’d go to sleep in a twist of sheets and warm bodies, me in the middle of my two men, but he’d wake in the middle of the night driven by dreams of those that didn’t come home with him. Things done and things left undone. I’d wake to find his side of the bed empty and I’d go searching in the darkened rooms. I’d usually find him on the couch not sleeping, but not wanting to wake anyone else. I’d coax him back to bed, asking him to let me hold him, even if he didn’t sleep, just come back to bed. I learned his breathing, the feel of his body, the change in weight as the demons came. If I could catch it soon enough I could pet him back to sleep. Caress him until his breathing evened out, his body relaxed beside me, and I’d cuddle back down between my two men. Some of the most peace I’d known was sleeping between my husband and our soldier. Until by the time we parted ways I missed his snoring, and had to relearn how to sleep without it.

I love a military man, he’s my best friend. I knew him before he put on a uniform, and I’ve known him ever since. He trusts me and I trust him. He trusts me enough that he knew he could call on the day that he had his gun in his hand. He didn’t tell me he had it, I heard the metallic clack-clack as the slide went back on the gun. There’s no other sound like it and I knew it meant he’d put a bullet in it and it was live. I knew he was sitting there on the other end of the phone with a loaded gun. I remember the spurt of fear, the panic as I thought, what do I do, what do I say? First, I told him I knew what that sound was, he’d known I would. No bullshit between us, no lies. I knew he was sitting there thinking about it, but I trusted him enough to believe I was his call for help, not his suicide note. I heard the slide go back again, knew he’d ejected the live bullet. I breathed a sigh of relief and kept talking. I tried doing the whole, all you have to live for speech. I tried to be comforting. The slide went back again. And that was it, I called him names, I asked how could he do to me what his friend’s death had done to him? How could he make his family feel the pain of loss he was feeling right then? I used some more colorful phrases, some of which he’d help me prefect over the years. I got angry at him, fuck softness and hand holding. If this was it, we were both going down fighting. I heard the slide go back again, and I yelled at him some more, that we weren’t doing this again, and he agreed. He put the gun up. I told him if he took the easy way out and I didn’t, then I won. I’d be the better man. What military man wants to lose to a girl?

I love another military man, and the demons wake him, too. The loss of his brother in arms haunts him. I’ve held him while he railed against the loss. I’ve held him while he screamed his rage at those that didn’t come home, and why was he alive, why him and not them? I helped hold him and finally screamed myself, until he could hear me. That I was glad he was alive. That I was glad he was in my life. That his brother would want him to live. That his lost friend wouldn’t want him to die with him, but to live, and to keep on living.

Memorial Day is to honor the dead who have fallen in defense of our country and our freedom, but we don’t just lose our soldiers to the violence of war. Every day twenty veterans commit suicide. Every day an average of twenty of our brave men and women that have served in our armed forces take their own lives. Every day, not just Memorial Day, not just Veterans Day, but every day.

We need to lower these numbers. We need to figure out how to help the men and women that we send to fight our battles for us.

If you, or someone you know, may be considering suicide, please reach out.

Veterans Crisis Line

Call 1-800-273-8255 ext 1

Or text 838255

Mission 22

http://www.mission22.com

Battle In Distress

http://www.battleindistress.org

Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors

http://www.taps.org

Wreaths Across America

  
The rows of white stones march out and out across the neatly clipped grass, each stone marks a grave, each grave marks a soldier, or family member, who has passed. I’ve stood at Arlington National Cemetery and wept at the endless rows of headstones, but I didn’t know that there was another cemetery much closer to home where the uniform white stones march out and out. Jefferson Barracks Cemetery was established in about 1827 and made a National Cemetery in 1866, when the National Cemetery Administration was established. It’s just down the road here in St. Louis.  
I’ve seen it twice this year, the first at the funeral of my sister’s father of record, and the second on the day when Wreaths Across America invites people to join them at cemeteries like Arlington and Jefferson Barracks to honor those who have paid the ultimate price for our country. Wreaths Across America is a charity that receives no money from the government, it’s all donations from people like you and me. Jonathon, Genevieve, Spike, and myself went expecting we’d be there for hours helping lay wreaths, but unfortunately there were so few wreaths that everyone in attendance was asked to only take one, or two, so that everyone there could lay at least one wreath on a grave. 

  
A news story on CNN about Arlington National Cemetery not having enough wreaths to cover all the graves this year was what first brought Wreaths Across America to our attention. We even donated to the cause, as did many others, and it was enough so that Arlington was able to put a wreath on every grave this year. They said in the interview that most cemeteries were embraced by their local town, because so many local military were buried there, but Arlington was made up of soldiers that weren’t local, so the surrounding area didn’t feel connected enough to contribute. The interview made us think that here in St. Louis there would be enough wreaths to go around, but there was not.
In fact, there were only about 1,100 wreathes to go on the 180,000 graves. It was upsetting to see all the bare white tombstones, and the few evergreen wreaths. I guess a few was better than none, but it still seemed sad, and left all of us feeling like we need to do better next year. I’ll say it here and now, that we plan to contribute more next year and would like to have a goal of honoring many more of our fallen soldiers next year by helping our local Wreaths Across America.  

  
The other interesting thing about the ceremony was that it was full of speeches where people talked about this country with unabashed patriotism and pride. There was no apologizing, or over explaining, or any of the language that has crept into so many politicians and citizen’s speeches lately. It harkened back to when I was a child. I was taught to be proud to be American and that it was the best country in the world to call home. You know what, I still believe that. I’ve visited several other countries and they are all wonderful in their own right, but they aren’t home. I don’t believe our country is perfect, but then the same is true of every other country. I sat there and thought, here is an entire group of people of diverse race, religion, economics, and age, but we were all there to honor the ideal that we are still the home of the brave, and the land of the free, and that last part, freedom, came with a price that the men and women lying dead around us had paid. I will not apologize for honoring the dead of my country and it was wonderfully freeing to be in such a large group of people that felt the same way.  
Let me say, that if you disagree with me, that’s okay, because something else I was taught as a child was this, America is about being free to believe, to worship, to vote, to have an opinion that is your own. I may not agree with you, or you with me, but I will fight for your right to have your own opinion and beliefs, as you are supposed to fight for my right. We are supposed to fight for each other, not against each other. We can disagree vehemently, and it’s okay if our opinions anger each other, but we are still supposed to honor each other’s right to those opinions. That is what it means to be free in America. We are free to believe, to speak, to worship, to study, to work, to create as we will, and the government will not stop us, or arrest us for it. I don’t think most Americans realize how rare that is in the world.  
Spike walked out among the white lines of graves in his uniform. He had been thanked for his service by several people, and thanked others in return. He still doesn’t like being too visible in the blog, but as a combat vet himself, he felt it was important to show his respect. We missed the opportunity for donating enough to Wreaths Across America to cover the graves at Jefferson Barracks, but there is always next year. The dead are patient and they’ll wait, but for the living veterans and their families it’s harder to wait. The dead have all the shelter they will ever need, they do not know hunger or thirst, sorrow or terror, the cold does not move them, illness and injury are things of the past for the dead, but there are living veterans and their families that need shelter, food, medical care, and just to know that their sacrifices aren’t in vain. Here are just a few charities that try to help the men and women who served in our armed forces, and their famili 

Home

Hope for the Warriors

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Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America

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USO

https://www.uso.org/