TwinMom7
Proud Mom of a United States Marine
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Body Bag Carrying Marine Sober Sight
Reservists Aid Hospital with Incoming Wounded
WAR ON IRAQ: DESERT DISPATCH
By FRED DODD
Tribune Weekend Editor
CAMP CHESTY, Iraq -- The most respected and appreciated mission South Bend Marines have been tasked with lately is providing security and litter-bearer teams to the nearby Navy field hospital.
It's also the most sobering.
An hour after their shift started, a squad of Engineer Company B reservists rushed out of the security team tent toward an incoming medivac helicopter. It was like a scene out of the old television show "M*A*S*H." But this was for real.
The team was briefed by the helicopter crew and quickly went to work. The litter-bearers climbed into the back of the CH-46 and then carefully headed down its ramp carrying a young Iraqi girl.
"I don't like seeing stuff like that," said Sgt. J.J. Miller, 27, of Michigan City.
Miller is the type of man who could star as a Marine in a movie -- he looks and acts the part. Hearing such an admission from a hard-charging squad leader confirms quite an impression was made.
The girl's young brother was on the next stretcher. They were followed by three healthy Iraqi men: the children's father, his brother and the brother of an Iraqi man who was carried off on a stretcher with several bullet wounds.
"Their dad looked like he was in pretty bad shape emotionally," Miller said.
As the injured were loaded onto an ambulance, the three healthy men were searched then allowed to follow the ambulance as it transported the others to the nearby emergency room. As required, Engineer Company B Marines kept a close eye on the trio.
A few minutes later, another helicopter landed. This one carried two injured Marines. One was carried by stretcher, but seemed in pretty good shape, the other had an arm bandaged, and walked under his own power to the ambulance.
Before this helicopter could leave, another landed. This one was empty. It had come to transfer wounded Marines to another location. Before the patients could be loaded aboard yet another helicopter flew in.
This one left an indelible mark on those who witnessed it.
Two helicopter crew members pulled a stretcher from the back of the helicopter and rested it on the ground. One walked away, leaving the other to wait for litter-bearers. They were still loading the other helicopter.
It was a sad sight. The helicopter, blades still spinning slowly, sat in the desert sand 50 yards from the occupied landing pad. The lone visible crew member stood silently. He appeared very lonely. He looked down at the Marine who had been carried off the chopper, staring for what seemed like a long time. But there was no hurry. Nothing was going to help the Marine lying inside the body bag.
Who was he? Where was he from? What happened to him? What were his plans for a future that wasn't going to happen?
These were questions the South Bend Marines would never know answers to. But several hours later, when their shift ended, they were still wondering. And probably will be for years to come.
"It woke me up," said Lance Cpl. Grant Kissel, 21, of Greenfield, Ind. "I wondered about him, his family and his friends. I wonder whether or not they know yet, how they'll take the news.
"And I'm grateful that it's not my family that has to hear the news."
Such mixed emotions were common.
"This job was sort of a Catch-22," Miller said. "You enjoy it because you're doing something worthwhile and something important instead of building latrines.
"But then again you see a lot of stuff you don't want to see. Like when I had to point a gun at those kids' dad even though I knew he wasn't going to be a threat. He did everything we asked and was no problem.
"And you wonder about the dead Marine. I had people ask me what rank he was. It doesn't matter -- he was a Marine. It makes you think."
And it makes you reassess your desire for battle, according to another Marine.
"You never want to see something like that," said company Gunnery Sgt. Laureano Santos, 36, of Elkhart. "But some of the boys are all gung-ho and want to see action.
"The only thing they've ever seen is on television. This duty might change their mind
Reservists Aid Hospital with Incoming Wounded
WAR ON IRAQ: DESERT DISPATCH
By FRED DODD
Tribune Weekend Editor
CAMP CHESTY, Iraq -- The most respected and appreciated mission South Bend Marines have been tasked with lately is providing security and litter-bearer teams to the nearby Navy field hospital.
It's also the most sobering.
An hour after their shift started, a squad of Engineer Company B reservists rushed out of the security team tent toward an incoming medivac helicopter. It was like a scene out of the old television show "M*A*S*H." But this was for real.
The team was briefed by the helicopter crew and quickly went to work. The litter-bearers climbed into the back of the CH-46 and then carefully headed down its ramp carrying a young Iraqi girl.
"I don't like seeing stuff like that," said Sgt. J.J. Miller, 27, of Michigan City.
Miller is the type of man who could star as a Marine in a movie -- he looks and acts the part. Hearing such an admission from a hard-charging squad leader confirms quite an impression was made.
The girl's young brother was on the next stretcher. They were followed by three healthy Iraqi men: the children's father, his brother and the brother of an Iraqi man who was carried off on a stretcher with several bullet wounds.
"Their dad looked like he was in pretty bad shape emotionally," Miller said.
As the injured were loaded onto an ambulance, the three healthy men were searched then allowed to follow the ambulance as it transported the others to the nearby emergency room. As required, Engineer Company B Marines kept a close eye on the trio.
A few minutes later, another helicopter landed. This one carried two injured Marines. One was carried by stretcher, but seemed in pretty good shape, the other had an arm bandaged, and walked under his own power to the ambulance.
Before this helicopter could leave, another landed. This one was empty. It had come to transfer wounded Marines to another location. Before the patients could be loaded aboard yet another helicopter flew in.
This one left an indelible mark on those who witnessed it.
Two helicopter crew members pulled a stretcher from the back of the helicopter and rested it on the ground. One walked away, leaving the other to wait for litter-bearers. They were still loading the other helicopter.
It was a sad sight. The helicopter, blades still spinning slowly, sat in the desert sand 50 yards from the occupied landing pad. The lone visible crew member stood silently. He appeared very lonely. He looked down at the Marine who had been carried off the chopper, staring for what seemed like a long time. But there was no hurry. Nothing was going to help the Marine lying inside the body bag.
Who was he? Where was he from? What happened to him? What were his plans for a future that wasn't going to happen?
These were questions the South Bend Marines would never know answers to. But several hours later, when their shift ended, they were still wondering. And probably will be for years to come.
"It woke me up," said Lance Cpl. Grant Kissel, 21, of Greenfield, Ind. "I wondered about him, his family and his friends. I wonder whether or not they know yet, how they'll take the news.
"And I'm grateful that it's not my family that has to hear the news."
Such mixed emotions were common.
"This job was sort of a Catch-22," Miller said. "You enjoy it because you're doing something worthwhile and something important instead of building latrines.
"But then again you see a lot of stuff you don't want to see. Like when I had to point a gun at those kids' dad even though I knew he wasn't going to be a threat. He did everything we asked and was no problem.
"And you wonder about the dead Marine. I had people ask me what rank he was. It doesn't matter -- he was a Marine. It makes you think."
And it makes you reassess your desire for battle, according to another Marine.
"You never want to see something like that," said company Gunnery Sgt. Laureano Santos, 36, of Elkhart. "But some of the boys are all gung-ho and want to see action.
"The only thing they've ever seen is on television. This duty might change their mind
