This is a true story...I wish it was not...about a Marine Mother who became a friend, and the pain she endured at the loss of her young son...pain that might have been avoided if only she, or I, or someone, had had the eyes to see the signals. I will omit names and unit designations.
Just under four years ago, I was privileged to organize and lead a Welcome Home escort for a Marine Corps unit returning home from Iraq . Demobilization processing had taken place in North Carolina , and the Marines were on the last leg of their long, hard journey home. The escort was a major undertaking - it was to be the largest and most logistically challenging motorcycle escort I ever organized, before or since. The effort had been initiated by the unit brass and the Family Readiness Group attached to it. There was detailed planning involved, even meetings with the ranking unit members still here at the home base and planning with the FRG.
The return was from North Carolina to the unit HQ in Northeast Philadelphia . Five busloads of Marines were in that convoy, riding north along I-95. Two of those buses were bound for New Jersey, they would split off from the main group at the Delaware Memorial Bridge, a huge structure spanning the mouth of the Delaware River from Delaware to New Jersey . We had a large group of New Jersey riders that smoothly and without confusion led/followed the two buses over the bridge, while the remaining motorcycles and three Marine buses continued north toward Philly. Planning and execution, planning and execution...
The primary rally point for this escort was set at the "Delaware House" rest stop along I-95, a large interstate rest stop in the state of Delaware, the last one before Philadelphia. It was a beautiful late-spring day, thanks to Him - sunny and quite warm. By the time we had finised assembling at the rally point, we had a massive assembly, two hundred and fifty motorcycles, and about a dozen support vehicles that included a lead commo vehicle that remained in contact with a rear sweeper. The intent was to pick up the buses on the roll, which would be tricky since the rest stop was in the center, between the northbound and southbound sides, meaning that we would be entering the highway in the left lanes.
We were in communication with the commander on the lead bus, so we knew precisely when they would be arriving. When they were 15 minutes out we lined up the bikes in the exit lane. As you know, the sight of 250 motorcycles in procession looks more like 500. It is a gleaming, roaring, sun-glinting sight to behold.
The Marine buses crested a ridge and slowed down in the left lane as I had asked them to. We rolled out... commo vehicle in front, two of our organization's bikes in the lead, flying US and Marine Corps flags, followed by about 30 Leathernecks MC riders. Then the five buses, followed by the New Jersey motorcycles, then the rest of the motorcycles, support vehicles, and sweeper. Two Delaware State Troopers took point and rear.
As we crossed the border with Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, we were greeted by the sight of the amazing Philadelphia Highway Patrol - couple cars and about 8 motorcycle units, and a fire engine. For the remainder of the trip to NorthEast Philly, they quite literally shut down I-95 for our passage.
What a glorious ride! The weeks of planning and attention to detail paid off in a big way. Waiting for us at the unit in Philly were the families - Barbeque pits smoking and balloons and American Flags flying...the wait for them was incredibly anxious and the reunion was equally glorious. Just before we got to the unit HQ, the buses stopped and several of the Marines climbed out and finished the last few blocks of the trip riding on top of those busses.
The reunion as we pulled in was beyond my ability to describe with words. Tears flowing liberally, cheers and patriotic music blaring, ecstatic Marines and Marine wives locked in embraces that a crowbar couldn't undo. I walked through and among the crowds, slapping backs and shaking hands and stopping for photographs.
One young Marine I can never forget...as I shook his hand he said to me "Man! This is so cool! When we were coming up 95, when we saw all those motorcycles, and then all the police lights, we couldn't believe it! We couldn't believe all that was for us! There was tears streming down our faces! " This Marine was beaming, and he was literally tearing up with joy and emotion.
Six months later he shot himself and died.
I and many of the same men and women and Highway Patrol officers who had escorted him home now stood in a flag line at his funeral and escorted his flag-draped coffin to the cemetery. I still visit his mom and sister now and then. Last Christmas we filled her street with motorcycles and presented her a wreath and a coin.
We love to talk about our Welcome Home escorts, to show photographs and to present the families with awards and tributes. We revel in telling the soldiers that we love them and that we are proud of them. We love to watch the families, the moms and dads with tears of pride and joy blurring their vision. We know the Warrior who receives our attentions is at that moment joyful and proud and relieved to be home.
But what happens to that warrior when the party is over? What happens when the TV lights are turned off, when the banners and flags are taken down, when the yellow roses have turned brown and died? What happens when a week has passed, then a month, then a year?
It was 1979 when the government finally began to come to grips with what we already knew - that large numbers of Vietnam Vets were suffering from various forms of PSTD. More and more veterans were living on the streets, abusing family members, getting drunk and drugged up, living a shell of a life. It was then that the Veteran's Administration made Post Traumatic Stress Disorder a recognized disease that veterans had a right to be treated for.
Today there are a number of VA services available to veterans who are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress. There are programs available for helping veterans make the transition from soldier to civilian successfully. There are suicide prevention and intervention programs for the most severe cases of PSTD, such as my friend in the story above suffered.
The transition from war zone to civilian life in the US is jarring for most warriors. A warrior is suddenly ripped from the environment of heat and glare and sand where everyone he meets might want to kill him, and thrust into "everyday life" here in the safe US, where everyone he meets is oblivious to his struggles.
During that period of transition, warriors often describe a roller coaster of emotional responses to everyday things, from excitement and relief to stress to tension to concern, to fear and anxiety.
These feelings are NORMAL. They are a NORMAL and EXPECTED reaction to combat exposure. It is called Post Traumatic Stress. The trick is to deal with the PTS BEFORE it becomes Post Traumatic Stress DISORDER, a serious state.
It is in dealing with that PTS early and effectively that is crucial for us. It did NOT happen with the Korean and Vietnam vets, withd evastating consequences to many of that generation. On any given day you can go downtown to an urban VA shelter and help spoon out soup to VETERANS - MEN AND WOMEN WHO RISKED AND GAVE ALL FOR US, but who are now too far gone to realistically be helped. So instead we just feed and clothe them and try to make them a little more comfortable in their misery.
Another Gold Star Mom and I teamed up to start a project called Big Brothers In Arms. This project and it's methods and goals have been praised by Veteran's Administration professionals and by war hero David Christian. The purpose is to catch up to the warriors WHEN THE PARTY IS OVER. To give them a sympathetic veteran to talk to...talk to in ways that the warrior might not be able to talk to a family member, or even a doctor. A sympathetic ear, from someone who'se "been there," in a non--judgemental way, in a non-threatening environment.
Involvement with a group like Big Brothers-In-Arms is only one way in which you can help. Go to your Veterans Administration office and look into the programst that they have available to help transitioning warriors make a successful transition. There are even Suicide Prevention efforts that can use your help.
Regardless of how you choose to help, the goal is to ensure that 35 years from now, we do NOT see the same numbers of veterans living on the streets, addicted to drugs and alchohol, despairing of ever living a normal life.
If, in 35 years, today's soldiers end up like many of today's Vietnam Veterans, then in my opinion WE, OUR GENERATION, WILL HAVE FAILED THEM, and everlasting shame on us for it.
Remember your Warriors when the Welcome Home is over. Check up on them. See if they need anything - even just a friend for an afternoon.
- Wayne Lutz
It's my pleasure and privilage to introduce to you several new Warriors' Watch leaders - folks who have joined up and stepped up to assume leadership rolls within the Warriors' Watch structure.
Welcome, to:
Steve Melton, North Carolina.
Doug Carter & Dave Erickson, (co) State Coordinators, Oklahoma
Brian Griffin, Northeast Florida, Southeast Georgia
Charlie Womack Oklahoma
Jim Moore, NW Florida
DJ Murray, South Carolina
This is a happy bit of news, since we were light on members in some of those critical areas. Gentlemen, thank you. Thank you for stepping up and taking on additional responsibility for the good of the WWR which, in turn, is for the good of our nation's warriors.
All of these folks are bringing other new members with them, and Jim Moore especially. Jim (Captain Toby) is from the Panama City area and comes to us with several years of experience that he acquired as a Ride Captain with another organizaiton. And since Jim signed on, we have had a flood of new members from that area of Florida. We even have one new member who is currently in Iraq who joined on account of Jim.
Jim, and Steve, Doug, Dave, Brian, Charlie, and DJ --- once again WELCOME! and THANK YOU!
- Lutz
Volume 2, Number 1 , Thursday, January 7, 2010
