For some reason my thoughts have been on this all day and I'm a mess. I don't know why these things come up and I start thinking about them and I can't get them out of my mind.
I came on duty and was told that we had a soldier in the Morgue and that someone from his Unit would be in to identify the remains. I was told to take them in to identify the body. I was afraid and worried. It may sound strange, but I had been in the Morgue many times and bagged numerous bodies, but had never opened a bag I didn't know what to expect and afraid of what I'd see. I'm so embarrassed now about feeling that way and feel so sorry about my feelings being so self-centered.
Eventually two individuals came in from his Unit. One NCO and one Officer I believe. I took them to the Morgue that was basically a wooden structure outside the ER area. I unlocked the padlocked door and took them in. I took them to the bag located on a rack on a stretcher and pointed to it. I was told to "open it". Again, being afraid of what I'd see and it being something I could not be prepared for, I unzipped the bag and opened it in a way so that they could see this young man and identify him without me looking into the bag. I heard comments regarding his injuries and became very angry. They seemed to be more impressed about what they saw rather than really looking at a young GI who died and identifying him. My anger took over and I asked "is it him" and they said yes. I immediately closed the bag and got them out of the Morgue. As we were walking into the ER and A&D area I heard them talk about the wounds and how some of their comrades were coming over and they would take them to look at this young soldier wounds. There was no doubt this was just to look and ooh and aah about what they saw and could brag about to others.
My E-7 came in that night which was somewhat rare as he was days. I told him what had happened and I was so upset and angry and that I didn't want to do this again and how wrong it was. I told him they just wanted to see the wounds and that is all they cared about. I guess I was pretty crazy but he understood and I am so thankful he did. When the other men came in and joined the other two they said they wanted to go back to the Morgue to see this young man. My Sergeant said "No", you have already identified him and no one was going back in. I was so relieved. Not because I would have to go in again but that my Sergeant understood and respected this young man who died.
I am so sorry and pray to God for forgiveness for being so selfish and I pray for this young man and his family.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Sergeant of the Guard, the Claymore Mine and Me
I was watching a program involving Prison's and, of course, it brought back an awful memory.
It was 7:00 a.m. and I was just getting off duty at the 24th when a member of the Army staff who investigates crimes came to get me. I was told nothing except that I was to go with him, which I did. We reached their site on base. Once inside I was told the following: That an attempt to frag the Sergeant of the Guard occurred. Apparently he saw the tripwire when opening the door to his hooch. He saw it before opening the door all the way. The tripwire was connected to a Claymore Mine. The people doing the investigation believed that the Claymore Mine was taken from the Arms Room located just outside the ER. (Part of our jobs was to secure all weapons from the incoming patients and secure it in that small Arms Room that was padlocked.)
I barely knew the Sergeant other than knowing he was new and I believe new In Country as well. I had guard duty only once with him as the Sergeant of the Guard. What little I knew was that he was hardcore and pushed to make sure everyone followed the rules - no leeway. If memory serves correctly, that didn't sit very well with those who had been In Country. Just a new guy who thought he knew everything and fuck the rest.
At this point in time I was scared. I was on duty every night for a minimum 12 shift and had access. I didn't know if they just picked me up or had they interrogated any others. All I could think of is that I was going to LBJ (Long Binh Jail - the stockade/prison for military personnel). I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing. What if they dont' believe me? Can they take fingerprints? My fingerprints were are lots of weapons in the Arms Room. There was no mention of my rights, an attorney, nothing except lots of questions coming my way. There was nothing I could do except answer those questions as they were asked. I could only hope that they would believe me and that I was truthful. After some time I was taken back to the 24th. I dont' remember if I was told I was cleared or what. I was just happy to be free. And what happened to the Sergeant of the Guard? I don't ever remember seeing him again and suspect that he was moved to another duty station for fear it could happen again.
That's it as I remember and it gets my mind and heart racing every time I think of it. Did I attempt to frag him? No way. I saw GI's who had been fragged and it was horrific. I was constantly surrounded by wounded and dead and no way would I ever think of doing that. And I am just so thankful that the truth prevailed.
It was 7:00 a.m. and I was just getting off duty at the 24th when a member of the Army staff who investigates crimes came to get me. I was told nothing except that I was to go with him, which I did. We reached their site on base. Once inside I was told the following: That an attempt to frag the Sergeant of the Guard occurred. Apparently he saw the tripwire when opening the door to his hooch. He saw it before opening the door all the way. The tripwire was connected to a Claymore Mine. The people doing the investigation believed that the Claymore Mine was taken from the Arms Room located just outside the ER. (Part of our jobs was to secure all weapons from the incoming patients and secure it in that small Arms Room that was padlocked.)
I barely knew the Sergeant other than knowing he was new and I believe new In Country as well. I had guard duty only once with him as the Sergeant of the Guard. What little I knew was that he was hardcore and pushed to make sure everyone followed the rules - no leeway. If memory serves correctly, that didn't sit very well with those who had been In Country. Just a new guy who thought he knew everything and fuck the rest.
At this point in time I was scared. I was on duty every night for a minimum 12 shift and had access. I didn't know if they just picked me up or had they interrogated any others. All I could think of is that I was going to LBJ (Long Binh Jail - the stockade/prison for military personnel). I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing. What if they dont' believe me? Can they take fingerprints? My fingerprints were are lots of weapons in the Arms Room. There was no mention of my rights, an attorney, nothing except lots of questions coming my way. There was nothing I could do except answer those questions as they were asked. I could only hope that they would believe me and that I was truthful. After some time I was taken back to the 24th. I dont' remember if I was told I was cleared or what. I was just happy to be free. And what happened to the Sergeant of the Guard? I don't ever remember seeing him again and suspect that he was moved to another duty station for fear it could happen again.
That's it as I remember and it gets my mind and heart racing every time I think of it. Did I attempt to frag him? No way. I saw GI's who had been fragged and it was horrific. I was constantly surrounded by wounded and dead and no way would I ever think of doing that. And I am just so thankful that the truth prevailed.
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