The week ahead will be a busy one.  The Marine Corps’ birthday on Tuesday will certainly disrupt–happily–an already short work week.  Typically, I see Marines ‘vanish’ on this day to celebrate our birthday in official and unofficial capacities. I generally expect a diminished workforce that day because we have so many Marines in my office. Although I have not attended a Marine Corps birthday ball in a number of years, this time of year my Facebook timeline is inundated with ball photos from friends still serving.

And it’s not like the motivation completely ceases once one leaves the Corps.  Some Marine veterans might attend a friend’s unit’s birthday ball as guests or go to a local Marine veteran organization for similar festivitites. Earlier this year, Marine Corps license plates became available in Arizona.  I had the pleasure of seeing one such plate earlier this week. $17 from the fee for this specialty plate goes to the Marine Corps Scholarship Foundation.

Since Veterans’ Day falls the day after, I expect a secondary disruption to the work week.  Please note, I am not complaining!  With everything on my plate for school, I am happy to enjoy a break.  In fact, I benefit greatly from the additional day off of work to complete some school related tasks and spending time with my family.

Currently, I’m studying local veteran courts for my Research Methods class.  As many of my followers know, I’ve looked at different aspects of the veteran community since the start of my graduate program to include unpacking my own combat experiences; art therapy through the use of Guitars for Vets;  and how the Marine Corps’ represents female recruits and Marines via its Facebook page and Marine Corps Enlisted Opportunities Book (MCEOB).  Now, perhaps most importantly, I’m discovering what the veterans’ court does that is absent in other forms of the justice system.

My Veterans’ Day will be spent pulling together the research I’ve compiled for my course and also spreading a message for ‘She Wears Dog Tags’ via the contents of the package pictured below.   Thanks again for all your support.

~Cheryl

I share today’s post with a somber heart. On February 2nd, 2005, my unit lost our Watch Officer, Captain Sean Brock, and every Memorial Day, I think about the impact his death had on his family, persons I’ve never met.

Today we honor Captain Brock, among our nation’s many fallen, and I will never forget how I felt learning he was wounded and later, when he died as a result of his injuries. I was twenty at the time and as I learned afterwards, he was only twenty-nine. It stung a little bit more to know he was a fraternal twin, like me. I don’t doubt others, especially my peers and superiors working in the command center, have survivor’s guilt like I feel at times. Our base was frequently hit with mortars throughout the duration of my deployment and yet, most of us made it home.

I wrote a letter not too long ago about things I’d like to say to my mother, although she passed away in 2000, and I’ve never “said” anything specific regarding Captain Brock.  Should his family ever read these words, I think of their loved one every Memorial Day and the day of his death.  There are times throughout the year when I must be reminded of my place and he comes to mind even more.  I came home and I owe something back.  I was very anxious last night thinking of my recent frustration that companies are offering veteran discounts today.  Today is not Veterans’ Day.  Today is Memorial Day.  Some Americans chose to attend parades or memorial services; I chose to write this letter.

~C

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To Captain Brock,

I can write this letter to you now as a civilian.  Your death in 2005 transformed my life.  I felt like a tourist when I landed in Iraq, and more so before, in Kuwait.  At work though, I was not in tourist mode.  I didn’t have the time to gaze about the world around us.  There was too much to do on day shift with the mission assigned to me, our team, and all our individual contributions wove together a situational picture for the commanding generals.  I was (and still am) very proud of this assignment.  As a Lance Corporal back then, it’s not like I had the freedom to know you the way other Marines could in the command center.

I don’t know what you thought about our team of enlisted Marines working to your left.  Did you find it odd we were a mix of infantry guys stationed with G-3 and Chemical Biological Radiological and Nuclear Defense Marines, like myself?  I know I encountered Marines who naturally assumed I was a MAGTF (Marine Air Ground Task Force) Planner.

I wish I could pick your brain about the Army and Navy Liaisons who worked behind my desk.  I wish it was easier to remember people from back then.  I can only recall the Lieutenant Junior Grade’s first name was Candy and the Army Major gave me a 2nd BCT (Brigade Combat Team) coin.  Quite often, it felt strange to be surrounded by so many officers.  I wanted to make a good impression on you all and especially make my Master Sergeant proud I was on the team.

I don’t know if you’d find it stunning or embarrassing that I ignored my responsibility to burn items in the burn bin when I kept an article written about your death.  (I don’t know who printed it out but I couldn’t let the article disappear; I keep it to this day.)

There was such good insight into your life that the average American would never know about you, as one of our fallen.  I didn’t want your death to be another number on our screen.  Your life shouldn’t be just a statistic, a number thrown out among numbers when others discuss the merit of war.  You were a husband, son, brother, twin brother.  As a fellow twin, I cannot imagine the pain your twin goes through each day without you.  You chose to be a Marine, but the article revealed most what I love about people–their connections to their families, friends, and communities.  I’ve read memorial boards about you as well–you are greatly missed.

My place among the living deprives me of the opportunity to know what you see and understand in death.  I don’t know if you watched myself and Corporal Vaughn in our shared responsibility to destroy your cover and holster.  I don’t have an answer as to why we were chosen for this sacred task.  There wasn’t much blood on your things, but your blood was still there.  In burning your possessions, I feel better now about the historical use of funeral pyres and my own decision to be cremated when I die.

There were so many times I tiptoed on this notion of wishing I was there to help you and also being grateful I didn’t witness your wounds.  I was ending a phone call with my grandmother when the round landed on base.  I was over in my barracks and you were right outside of our work.  My grandmother suffered from lung cancer and during the deployment, I found out her cancer was no longer in remission.  I have no doubt she heard the round land.  It’s the loudest impact I can ever recall.  I had a few seconds, maybe 30 or less, where I could put on my game face essentially and keep her fear at bay.  I told her the normal things we tell our loved ones–I loved her and I’d try to call again soon and then I had to say goodbye.  I had to get back then to the present reality.

I’m currently reading Ashley’s War so I feel safe to tell you I don’t feel I wouldn’t have been helpful because I am a woman and you are a man.  I do understand some men feel women have no place in combat zones.  I feel like I would have been stunned for a moment if I saw you mortally injured.  I sat so close to you day in and day out for months on end, from 10 am to 10 pm until I was switched over to night crew.  It was only because my shift was changed that I was not at the operations center when the round landed.

But I knew you were injured before I went into work.  And I sat at work looking at the activity report (about you).The activity report shared the same general details like all the others before, but this time, I knew who we lost.  We had hellish days before where there’s so much activity and sadly, many losses of life, but watching the night drag on was terrible.  I felt like that activity report was taunting me.

I hope someone shared with your wife how wonderful your memorial service was; the Marines who spoke about you cared deeply for you and revealed much about your playful, adventurous side.  Once again, I couldn’t know you the way they did because of our ranks.  I am grateful though they reminded us all about who you were as an individual.

I am forever thankful our paths crossed, even for that small amount of time.  I hope as I continue to forge my own path in life, it is something you admire and see as socially responsible as a representative of the Marine Corps.

Your life will be one I always remember today and I hope in sharing this letter, many other Americans take to heart what today really means.

With the Utmost Respect and Admiration,

Cheryl

Turning 31 today was wonderful.  In fact, my whole weekend was great.  Last night, my family and I went out with some friends to a local pub.  Our kids got along well and I didn’t drink in excess.  However, I enjoyed watching my drunk husband…haha.  It was a good reminder of when we were dating.  He helped me out one night when I was incredibly drunk and our Marines planned an outing to the nearby Islands restaurant by our base for one of the Marines’ birthday.  I spent the night sitting out in the parking lot and he stayed with me.  I don’t know if anyone brought out food for him but I was too drunk to want food.  On a separate occasion, I stayed with him after he drank too much.  Last night I was his DD and our daughter did great staying up until almost eleven.  Normally, I wouldn’t let her stay up that late but it was a special occasion celebrating a friend’s 35th birthday (February 25th).

I was fortunate to speak to my twin earlier today as well.  We both mentioned the fact we cannot recall the last birthday we spent together.  I think it might have been our 18th.  She is still in Rhode Island with most of my family.  As kids there was one birthday where we thought about making each other the same black bottom cupcakes we saw in one of my mother’s cookbooks.  Perhaps the next time we are together again, we can make them.

Ten years ago, I came home from my first Iraq deployment so today will always be special for that reason as well.  Below are a few photos I took of that adventure.

I didn’t write a journal entry that day but I wrote about how wonderful my homecoming experience was thanks to the Marines I traveled home with, the veterans who greeted us in Bangor, Maine and my work crew at 1st Marine Division:

Today was all about spending time with my family except for the portion of my day spent finishing up homework for my class ending on March 3rd.  We are hoping to add a fuzzy family member to our family this year and met up with a local dog breeder for an hour today.  My husband and I were were truly impressed with their dogs; honestly, I’ve never met a breed of animal whose personalities varied so much.  We met one of their alpha females and a second female, whose temperament we liked better.  Thankfully, we are ok with waiting if the latter doesn’t produce a litter until later this year.

We also enjoyed lunch today at one of my favorite places, Liberty Market.  Normally, it’s one of our breakfast spots but they offer a $10 birthday discount so we finally went in for lunch.  We always have great service there and the food is incredible.

It’s been wonderful enjoying a quiet day with my family. We’ve had a lot going on with our classes. I’m happy for the chance to enjoy slowing down, spending time with friends and my family, and taking the weekend off from work. Sorry I don’t have a photo of my family and I to commemorate this weekend. I like taking photos more than my family does. We’ll get an updated one here soon.

~Cheryl

My voice is recovering.  I have laryngitis so it might take a week to fully sound like myself again,but it’s nice to know I’m not contagious.  I went back to work today and had class.  I’m not the kind of person who typically takes sick days.  Call it a bad habit from my Marine Corps service, but I am used to working through pretty much anything.  We [recruits, in general] get what’s dubbed the recruit crud; oddly enough, as I was looking for an explanation of it for you all, I came across this article from the Navy’s website.  I can’t recall ever getting the flu when I served.  I even had the misfortune of getting my smallpox vaccine in Iraq because the girl who was designated my roommate stateside came to Camp Pendleton pregnant from MOS (military occupational specialty) school.  Yes, I wasn’t allowed to get my smallpox vaccine pre-deployment because she was pregnant.  And in case you get the smallpox vaccine during pregnancy or inadvertently become pregnant, you can check http://www.smallpox.mil/event/pregnancy.asp.

My journal from back then is as follows:

Today we were discussing Helen Benedict’s The Lonely Soldier: The Private War of Women Serving in Iraq.  Originally, I was ecstatic to have a book all about female service members deployed to Iraq as part of my reading material, but I grew pretty incessantly mad at the author’s repugnant use of ‘soldiers’ to describe all service members.  Time and time again, people refer back to the term, soldier, to describe all service members without taking into account it is not appropriate to call us all soldiers.  Trust me, if you are not a soldier, it gets old.  If you are a Marine, it is downright insulting.  

Here’s something for you to break it down:

Army=Soldiers

Air Force= Airmen

Navy=Sailors

Marine Corps=Marines

Coast Guard=Coasties

I do digress, but I will jump on my soapbox repeatedly to tell people I do not like being called a soldier.  I didn’t join the Army.  I became a United States Marine.

The author dabbles a bit into discussing several poignant soldier (truly soldier) stories with some vignettes tucked in throughout to represent the voices of other service members.  The main characters, however, are as follows:

Mickiela Montoya (Army National Guard)

Jennifer Spranger (Army Reservist)

Eli PaintedCrow (Army Reservist)

Terris Dewalt-Johnson (Army Reservist)

Abbie Pickett (Army National Guard)

Reading their stories was infuriating.  Not because some of what they say might very well be true, but because there was a sheer lack of depth on the author’s part to fully investigate the experiences of female service members.  Her main characters are National Guard and Reservist soldiers.  They are, as is mentioned in the book, part time service members.  They do not live, sleep, and breathe their service as active duty members do.  The disdain active duty members typically feel towards reservists/the National Guard is quite palpable.  However, that’s not to say that active duty members and their part time counterparts are always against one another.  There is a trust that must be built as in any relationship, work, friendship, or otherwise.

In attempting to get through this book, I found myself relying on listening to music to keep my anger in check.  Once again, I haven’t loved everything about my service and the ways I’ve been treated, but this book painted a poor picture that women can essentially expect to be raped, sexually assaulted, harassed, or put in harm’s way because their units don’t give a damn.

Yes, some women are raped.  Yes, some are sexually assaulted.  Yes, some are harassed.  Yes, some are put in harm’s way, but not typically because their units don’t care; typically being put in harm’s way happens because up and down the chain of command (the order of supervisors and their junior personnel) somewhere there are incompetent leaders.  Or sometimes, you are instructed to go into harm’s way.  If you join any branch and serve in any capacity (National Guard, Reservist, or Active Duty) you should have the wherewithal to assume you might serve in a combat zone.  I don’t care what your recruiter told you.  You are serving in a time of war.  

There are, like in the civilian world, bad people in the military.  Men who rape women because they like the power and harm they cause.  There are men who sexually assault women because they attempt to rape women and may not fulfill those attempts.  There are men who harass women because they feel it’s socially acceptable.  There are some men who put women in harm’s way, because there is a certain satisfaction they get from endangering others.  There are recruiters who lie because their careers are on the line and they have quotas to meet.  There are evil women just like these men.  Just remember that statement for a second.

However, there are also many other men [and women] who work as partners, peers, and supervisors that work to prevent such treatment and to empower women to seek justice for the harm they suffer or have suffered.  The women in this book, while they might not have felt comfortable, could have found resources outside their commands to address their concerns.  It is preferable that any service member work within his or her command to resolve issues, but if your command has that many flagrant problems, trust me, there is always a line of defense you can you utilize elsewhere.  There are many great men and women throughout the service branches that would not tolerate many of the behaviors mentioned in this book.

On another day, I will provide my thoughts as a veteran regarding some of the soldiers’ behaviors (unplanned pregnancies, drug use, and insubordination) shared in the book that is worthy of discussion as well.