A Profile in Courage

There have unfortunately been a couple times in my life where I've been through wrenching emotion and out-of-body grief that seemed to liquidate my insides and leave me physically spent for days. But I never had to perform in front of millions when it happened...

Joannie Rochette unexpectedly lost her dearly-beloved mother two days before taking the ice at the Winter Olympics. How she found the mental discipline to shove the overwhelming pain back into a box for the duration of her program, I'll never know:

(video of her performance here)

Her spirit took her where her body couldn't go--note the opening exchange with her coach, then watch how she slows down in the closing minute but still doesn't make an error; after two days of gut-wrenching grief her body has only so much adrenaline to put forth in climbing the mountain of Olympic competition, but her spirit keeps her upright.

And when it's over, she crumbles and is then buoyed by her coach and her countrymen in the crowd. A lesson in love.

Why do I post about a woman I don't know, a woman simply competing in sport? Linda Holmes explains:

The end of her performance is perhaps the part I recognized the most: as soon as it's over and she's done, she again bursts into tears after holding it off the whole time. I know so many people who have been there, including me -- you hold it together all day until you walk through the door of your house and push it shut; you're fine until you get in the car and find yourself alone with the road; you're okay until somebody says, "Are you okay?" and then: sobs.

And I thought of people I know who do that today... of the people carrying on through this war with tears in their eyes, pain in their hearts... and steel in their spines.

Yes, it's "just a sport," and it's "just a (possible) medal." But as is the case with the best of sport, it's also more--it's about humanity and our incredible ability to hold each other up and overcome.

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Heartbreaking

Beyond having read of him as a hero of Fallujah and author of a powerful book about the battle, it was this that secured David Bellavia a spot in my memory.

The part of the film that stuck with me was David Bellavia talking about the response he received from parents of the children's soccer team he was coaching when his book about the first Battle of Fallujah came out. The parents were horrified to discover the violent things Bellavia had done while fighting in Fallujah; they acted as if they expected his capacity for lethal violence would burst out again at any moment [and endanger them all].

As Bellavia points out, the parents' responses are indicative of the discomfort many civilians feel with what warriors do in wartime, and how that affects their interactions with and opinion of veterans.

Now he's talking about the proper response that he and his fellow veterans of Iraq aren't getting...

The ones that hold my contempt are those who, even today, know of the sacrifice made, the incredible progress gained and still will not acknowledge what was won on the ground in Iraq. They cheapen the sacrifice of how it was earned. Operation Iraqi Freedom is no more.

Operation New Dawn (the exact same name of the Battle of Fallujah in November 2004) is the new name of the deployment to Iraq.

What we achieved in the face of an implacable enemy, overcoming many in our own government willfully ignorant of our struggle, is what I believe to be the defining moment of my generation. The veteran today is the embodiment of what it means to be an American. Even when our valor was used for political sport, we continued to serve quietly.

...As the pages turn, so does the dispositions on the faces in the pictures. The exhaustion of combat has replaced the frolic; dead-eyed stares in place of jovial laughter. We lost far too many men during our war in Iraq. Then the unit returned for a second deployment, and the number spiked to more than seventy.

...I came home expecting to find the sacrifice of these brave patriots revered at every turn by those who overwhelmingly sent us to war from Washington.

You know the result of that expectation, but this is truly a case of read it all. As one commenter mentions, this is what I have struggled to explain to the clueless.

Postscript: I remember talking last spring to someone who was working toward holding a Victory-in-Iraq parade in July. He lamented that he couldn't seem to galvanize many people to action, even among the most ardent and active troop supporters. I told him I was very sorry to say that though they deserved a parade, I thought the political realities ensured nothing but bad could come from it. I hugged him repeatedly with tears in my eyes, knowing where his heart was as a Vietnam veteran.

Is indifference better than contempt?

Update: Lex says it perfectly (why am I not surprised?). "Their reward, it seems, will be no punishment."

[H/T: Powerline]

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Clank

I was multitasking at the USO today. Local Marines had gotten a few days of leave from infantry training and taken full advantage, making the airport a busy place as they returned to their duty stations.

My secondary task was to find a picture of Marines in Marjah that could inspire the homefront to think of and remember the fighting there. And so, sitting at the reception desk, I sifted through pictures like this:

A Marine with Weapons Platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, affixes a mortar round to his pack before a helicopter-borne assault to seize the "Five Points" intersection east of the insurgent stronghold of Marjeh... Some Marines carried more than their body weight during the assault. Photo by Sgt. Brian Tuthill.

And this:

Lance Cpls. Keith B. Lawson and Spence G. Press, scout snipers attached to Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, work together to identify targets as Taliban fighters approach from Marjeh toward their position... Lawson, 25, is from Reedly, Calif., and Press, 20, is from Newbury Park, Calif. Photo by Sgt. Brian Tuthill.

And some like this...

Cpl. Alton S. Floyd, a wrecker operator for Alpha Company, 2nd Combat Engineer Battalion, rests after working to build multiple makeshift bridges in Marjah, Helmand province, Afghanistan, Feb. 11. During the construction of their last bridge, Alpha Company encountered an improvised explosive device, no Marines were injured. Floyd, 25, is from Atlanta, Ga. Photo by Lance Cpl. Walter Marino.

And in between the discovery of each picture, I was fulfilling my primary task...

Every time time I looked up from my search, I'd see a young man standing in front of me: broad-shouldered and hard from weeks of rigorous School of Infantry training, strong and tall and buoyantly confident in the way only young Marines untouched by the implications of their service can be. I laughed and joked with them as they signed in, softening the formality of asking for ID by teasingly telling them I had to check because they didn't look a bit like Marines. Most of them smiled and laughed right back.

They were stuffed with food from Mom's, or from their buddy's aunt who lived a short plane ride away and had taken in a couple Marines for the weekend (and had probably been surprised to find out how much Marines formerly living on MREs could eat). Not an inch of fat on them, but they were "fat and happy" nonetheless.

They were the younger brothers of the Marjah Marines.

And I moved back and forth between here and there...

USO: A friendly greeting... smiles... sandwiches from the Rotary Club

Marjah: Waiting... wondering... fear

USO: Comforts of the modern life... peace... safety

Marjah: 7th century... bullets... explosions

USO: a rest stop between practicing

Marjah: the real thing.

Re-immersed in the pictures, I would once again look up to greet another young warrior halfway through his training, and feel that clank of worlds bumping up against other.

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Treats

It all started mid-January when I spotted boxes of Christmas-themed brownie mix at Big Lots for $1 each.

Take regular brownies, add a pack of read and green sprinkles and suddenly you have Christmas Brownies! Or rather, remove the pack of sprinkles and you have regular old, delicious brownies perfect for any time of the year at $1 a pan. I had a USO shift at the airport the next day, so it was the perfect excuse to bake without the danger of brownies laying around the house for a week--as if they'd last that long!

And then I had a brainstorm... I took the box of plain old brownie mix and threw in a few tablespoons of sipping chocolate and a handful of walnuts. Oh my!

Well, once I start baking it's hard to stop. So that same night I made Oatmeal Cranberry Cookies. I couldn't resist a little change there, and threw in some nutmeg. And then I made Chewy Molasses Spice Cookies. I actually followed the recipe on those! Oh, they were good!

The next day at the USO, the director took one bite of the fudgy, chewy brownies and looked at me in astonishment before realizing his reaction wasn't necessarily a compliment.

"You bake?" he asked. I reminded him that I'd brought sugar cookies to the USO Christmas Party.

"Well, I knew you cooked, but... These are amazing! Do people know you can make things like this? I mean, that you cook so well?"

I shrugged with a bit of amusement. "I guess so. I mean, it's not a secret, or anything... I like to cook and bake and I'm pretty good at it."

He jumped in again, his reactions once again ahead of his brain. He looked me up and down appraisingly and said in a thoughtful voice, "You really need to make sure people know about this. You know, guys li--- I mean, umm... It's true what they say about... Umm... Wow, you really are a great cook!"

I laughed as I realized what was going on in his head. This was the same retired Marine who two weeks after meeting me had asked with genuine curiosity, in the middle of a conversation about combat psychology, why I hadn't found myself "a good Marine officer to marry," and whose wife offered to set me up for the next party the local general threw.

"Men's hearts and stomachs, huh?" I said sardonically, trying to let him off the hook. He's a good man, and rather fatherly toward me in a usually light-handed way.

He had the grace to look a little chagrined, but plowed ahead. "It's true. You have no idea how much that means. This is a valuable skill you've got."

We walked out of the kitchen together as I thanked him for his compliments and he blurted out after a moment, "I really don't understand why--" Fortunately his brain caught up with him, but we both knew what he had been about to say. I lightened it up by joking, "You know what the problem is? I'm a vegetarian; I don't cook meat. Can't get a man's attention without a some steak on the table, you know..."

You'd think that would've let me off the hook, but no. As a Southerner, he then proceeded to insist I was wrong and list all the yummy foods made without meat: grits, hush puppies, fried green tomatoes, collard greens, etc, etc.

What can you say? I just laughed and rolled my eyes at him.

We got to the desk and my fellow volunteers informed me all the guys were talking about the brownies and cookies I had brought. "See?" the director said. "I told you."

"Yeah, and they're all 10-15 years younger than me. My talents obviously are wasted here," I said with a prima dona air. "I never should've made them." That brought a laugh all around, and finally put a merciful close to the conversation.

Well, it's time to take the last batch of cookies out of the oven for tomorrow. Chewy Molasses Spice again. I already made the brownies.

Maybe I should consider becoming a cougar...

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