Showing posts with label Adam Dickmyer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adam Dickmyer. Show all posts

Friday, June 1, 2018

Memorial Day 2018

 
What toll extracted
When you have seen grief on mothers’ faces
Wearing buttons with sons’ pictures that look like you
Waves of death and rows of white head stones
Carried caskets varying in weight
Knowing that remaining portions of recovered bodies differ
Depending on how much is left after being blown apart by IEDs

Drilled into your head to have your buddy’s back at all times
But you don’t reenlist when your buddy does
To not be there when he is killed on a bridge in Afghanistan
While you are safe at home

Go to his funeral
Leave with these thoughts
And then your cork pops.

November 17, 2010

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Veterans Day - 2013 - A Poem Remembering

Adam - Meal after Mike's Last Walk
Adam Dickmyer was killed three years ago - the first casualty of the wars who we knew - the first military funeral we have attended - experienced the sad expression on a widow's face. Times to remember. We have been a military family for ten years: one son an Army Veteran, a second a deployed Navy pilot. I assume there are ways parents are affected by their Veteran children's responses to the conflicts caused by our broken world. Adam's death sent our family into a journey we hadn't expected - our Veteran son was safe his time in the Army - so we thought. A year ago was a period with months added to months of times before, and times of months since, that have consumed our thoughts - the consequences of military conflicts that may not be seen, may not be so obvious as the final losses of ultimate sacrifices.

Veterans Day 2013 – A Poem Remembering

The evening paper in its plastic sleeve rests on the driveway concrete,
Touching the grass lawn skirt at the edge.
It’s 2:00 AM, February 1.
I had just driven home from the airport –
A short, two-night business trip to cold St. Paul,
And now home – the house is empty.

The paper lying there was a novelty –
Knowing she wouldn’t be home for a while –
My wife put on a delivery hold starting December 10.
With all that was planned in the upcoming weeks,
And the unknowns:
Navy Winging Ceremony in Corpus Christi,
A granddaughter’s birthday,
And a month later a grandson’s, too,
Christmas in Oregon,
All my comings and goings for work travel,
Uncertainties, our Army Veteran son
Set up with a new psychiatrist –
Our frail hopes already worn thin the past two years,
His frail hopes worn far worse than ours’– close to being gone;
At that time, the beginning of February
Seemed far enough out to resume delivery.

She comes home tomorrow night.
It’s been a long time since we sat together in our house,
Reading the paper.

February 3, 2012 
__________________________
April 21, 2015. It was not acknowledged by The Veterans Administration that our son was suffering from a service-related condition until the end of May 2014. 

Friday, August 21, 2009

Just a Little Hospitality

As I merged onto Route 50 on my way to work this morning, I noticed a hearse in my side mirror coming up from behind in the middle of the three lanes. I now drive my new Prius for economy mileage by using the heads-up display gauges in the dashboard, so I don't accelerate like I used to - there is nothing like getting 55 miles to the gallon. As the hearse passed me, I saw a flag draped coffin inside, and following close behind was a dark Ford Focus - likely a military escort I thought - I didn't feel like listening to the rest of the long version of Creedence Clearwater's Susie Q on the XM Satellite radio station I was tuned into. I turned off the radio and pulled in behind the subcompact Ford, what was likely a rental. There was no need to go my typical 75 miles per hour - 69 would do fine - I had a good idea where they were heading, west on Route 50 towards Washington. It was like I had seen this before.

I am usually slow wanting to see new movies. For me, it is such a big commitment to get into the plot, get to know the characters, and figure out whether their chemistry is going to work. It was the same way when I caught glimpses of advertisements for HBO's Taking Chance, I didn't have a clue what that movie was about - another military story. There may have been mention of Taking Chance on the Naval Academy Parent's list serve, I don't really remember, but by the weekend it was to show on television, I wanted to see it.

Taking Chance is a gut breaker. I sobbed off and on throughout the entire movie, and have watched it four or five times since then. I am getting better at handling it emotionally - but still not all that much better - Jan asks me each time from another room why I keep torturing myself - she doesn't want to watch. [1]

The hearse and trailing car stayed in the center lane most of the 15 miles from Annapolis, through Bowie, and to I-495 - I stayed close behind, close enough to see the Delaware license plate - that made it more likely they had come from Dover Air Force Base. I had known of Dover, but when the first clandestine photographs of flag-draped coffins coming in from Iraq hit the news, I began to understand what the base represents. When our Army son was first posted at Fort Myer, he made a couple of "Dover Runs" in Blackhawk helicopters to escort fallen soldiers from Dover to Arlington - that was before he was assigned to the Tomb of the Unknowns - these soldiers where Knowns. By now, there have been many similar escorts to all points of the country - to date, 5127 fallen service men and women have been received back in the U.S.

If not for Taking Chance, I would not have fully grasped what I caught a glimpse of when I first got on the freeway. But the methodical detail of the journey Lance Corporal Chance Phelps made from Iraq to Dubois, Wyoming is fixed in my memory for life - a hearse, the flag, a trailing rental car, now me following - like the cars and trucks in the movie: not in a hurry, not wanting to pass, a part of a procession, but not with my headlights on - it was just a little thing I could do. As we got to the Beltway interchange, the hearse and I merged into the lane to Richmond, I-495 S. I could tell that the escort was a little panicked by the way he kept looking back over his right shoulder for a way to pull back in behind the hearse - I briefly saw a young soldier with close cropped hair in his Class B Dress Uniform. I slowed down and held up the cars behind me, making space between the hearse and me so the escort could slide in between us. As he fell in behind the hearse, I made my next merge to the I-495 N lane as the two others continued in the south-bound exit, pretty much confirming they were likely headed to Arlington National Cemetery - me, I was on my way to Beltsville.

The meaning of the word hospitality in Greek is to show kindness to strangers. That is what I thought about when I was following behind the short procession in front of me. Two strangers I will never know: one a fallen soldier and the other an Army escort; me not rushing to work, quietly following, yielding to a car needing to keep pace, a soldier doing his duty as his Nation asks him to do, on their way to a quiet place for rest.

The detailed story of Chance Phelp's journey written by Lt. Col. Mike Strobl (USMC, ret.) can be found here.

Information about the Chance Phelps Foundation supporting veteran and Gold Star families can be found here.

Be sure to watch the movie Taking Chance, it is out on video. You can view the movie trailer here.
_____________________________________
[1] Since this posting, we have had closer encounters with this subject: A soldier our son (shown above) served with at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was killed in Afghanistan on October 28, 2010; we and our son attended his funeral at Arlington National Cemetery; our son suffers from PTSD - partly triggered by his friend's death; and my wife watched most of Taking Chance about six months ago. December 18, 2011.