Westboro Baptist Church

One of the members of the Wesboro Baptist Church had court here in Omaha today for wearing a flag skirt that was dragging on the ground and allowing her 10 year old son to stand on the flag. This is against the Nebraska flag mutilation law. The individual is Shirley Phelps-Roper. Her attorney, Margie Phelps, is appealing to the 8th U S Circuit of Appeals. She also has to stand trial in August here in NE on charges of violating the flag law, disturbing the peace, contributing to the delinquency of a minor and negligent child abuse stemming from the process or something to that effect.

For those of you who don't know, this church protests at funeral services for our the brave men and women who have lost their lives for this Country. They only know how to spread hatred, lies and harass the dead serviceman or women's family and funeral service calling it freedom of religion. If it were not for our brave service men and women who have lost their lives as well as all us who have served in the service and the sacrifices of our families this so-called church and their members would not even exist.

I believe a private civil lawsuit against this church will soon be before the U S Supreme Court brought on by the family of Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder. I have attached a link to their website. At the present time I believe the only legal way to stop this madness is for the Supreme Court to rule against this church and confirm the millions of dollars in damages awarded Corporal Snyder's family by a lower court. Once this is done, you will then see an onslaught of lawsuits and hopefully this church and all of its members will be crushed financially.

Yes, we have "Freedom of Speech" in this Country, but think of the interpretation this church uses. They believe this gives them the right to protest, harass, inflict pain and suffering, lies and hatred. Think for a minute if all citizens of this Country took "Freedom of Speech" to this level. This Country would be in chaos - there would be no sexual harassment, freedom of religion and racism would run rampant. Anyone could say, do, harass, lie, terrorize stating it is their freedom of speech. Is this really the "Freedom of Speech" our founding fathers imagined?

I will never ever be able to express the horror, sorrow, pain and suffering I saw while in Vietnam at the 24th Evac. Only now am I barely beginning to realize just what I had been through and experienced and I have felt so overwhelmed this last couple years and there are many days I'm ready to just say, I have had enough and just don't feel I can go on any longer. And now to hear, read and see what this church is doing in incomprehensible.

It is time to take back this country and I pray the Supreme Court makes the correct decision so the healing can begin.

Easter in Vietnam - 1971

Easter in Vietnam was like any other day. The causalities continued to come in and we continued to do our jobs. I guess the only difference was that I received a large Easter package with candies and stuffed Rabbits.

There was a guy, Albert Wahl, who I had met in the early days in either Basic or Advanced Training. We didn’t really know each other very well but we did fly in the same plane from Chicago to Omaha after advanced training and from Omaha to San Francisco after our leave as we began our journey to Vietnam. Anyway, my mom met his family at the airport after we got on the plane to San Francisco. His was a very large family with about 10-12 kids and mine had 8. They lived in a small town, about 40 minutes from Omaha in Greenwood, NE. So, at Easter and Halloween the families got together and did Easter Baskets, Halloween trick or treat bags, etc. and sent them to us. (He was stationed elsewhere in Vietnam.) I also had worked for a restaurant in Omaha and they also sent large food packages especially at the holidays. Packages and mail were taken to our worksite as was the practice and there always seemed to be anticipation of what I was now receiving by my fellow GI’s.

At Easter I received the Easter package that resulted in lot’s of laughs, sharing of candy and Easter stories. Soon the stuffed bunnies were treated for head injuries and had their heads wrapped in gauze or had other injuries that were treated much the same way. They were then left in our small area outside the ER for any patient or staff to see as well as the candy to be shared by staff and patients. About a week later the stuffed bunnies and other stuffed animals had healed, bandages were removed and they headed off with the nurses as they went to a nearby orphanage to treat sick children where they would remain.I have had many, many Easters in my life but none that brings such fond memories.

I cannot put into words what this one Easter meant to me or how much it touched my heart and my being. I guess if there was every truly a Happy Easter for me, this was the one.

The Serviceman's Medal

I left Omaha the day after Christmas, 1970, for California and then Vietnam. My family could not really give me any presents but I did get a notebook and my sister gave me a Servicemans Medal. It is in a somewhat clover shape with the rounded top tip of it being red stating land, rounded rounded side tips white stating sea and air and the bottom rounded tip was blue. I always wore this cross along with my dog tags in Vietnam.

One night I had to bag a body in the morgue. The morgue was basically a somewhat rectangle building with wood racks up the sides and back. Those racks held the litters with the bagged bodies. All I seem to remember of that night is being in the morgue with a litter on the floor with a bag that was open with a dead GI. I carefully cut off his fatigues. The last remaining article was his t-shirt. When it cut it off I saw the Serviceman's medal on him. I was shocked at first and then angry. How could God do this. Let a young man die who was wearing the very medal that was to protect him. I was just dumbfounded. I remember standing up looking at this young man. I had not taken the medal off yet and he was just laying there in this bag, no wounds, just looking like he was asleep with the medal around his neck. I said some prayers and then took off his medal and put it with his other belongings and then tagged his toe, zipped up the bag and then tagged it.

The next morning I noticed that my medal was gone when I was getting ready to hit the sack. (At least in my mind it was the next morning but it was very soon after I took care of this GI.). I still had on my chain but no medal. I know it sounds crazy but I always felt God had given him my medal. And even now it is hard for me to think otherwise.

I have replaced that medal but have been afraid to wear it for fear that I would lose it. I have been wearing it for sometime but this morning I immediately noticed it was off my neck but I had the chain on. As I got out of bed I saw the medal lying there. Although I often think of this young man, this brought those memories back again unexpectedly and I again saw this young man laying there with the medal, asleep and with God.

The Cockroach Takes a Bite

Twice in the last few months I have helped people move from apartments where the buildings had cockroaches. So, I'm looking at them and thinking first of all they seemed tiny compared to those I saw in Vietnam. The second thing I fought about was having some flesh eaten by one of these.

It was a rare night when I was not on duty and was in my bunk sleeping. It was a restless sleep and I remember my right hand was hurting a little where I had a wart just under my little finger on the palm of my hand. I was thinking/dreaming that gee, I'd better get it cut off. Maybe there was something going on there. My hand hurt more and more and I was becoming more awake. Then I felt it. Something moved. I literally fell out of my bunk and got a light on. It was a cockroach and it had eaten off the wart on my hand. I now had a small hole that went down a under the palm of my hand past where the wart was and it was bleeding some. Talk about "Oh Shit, how did that happen". Well, I found out later that it can and did for me. Anyway, I killed the cockroach and poured alcohol in the wound and when it grew back I had it cut off in the E.R. It had to be cut off two different times but that did the trick.

So, there you go. I don't think I have ever really told this story to my family or anyone else except the ER and my immediate fellow GI's, but I look back at it with a BIG smile. After all, how many people can say they were bit by a cockroach?

Destiny or Stupidity?

I was drafted the first year they actually pulled your number by birth date. Mine came up as a 50-50 chance of getting drafted. Well, I was called up in the March/April time frame. Before I left for Basic Training everyone told me, don't sign up for additional time. They will ask you to, but don't do it. Well, that first week of orientation, I did sign up for additional time just before we actually got into actually Basic Training. Why? I was uneducated and had worked since I was a sophomore. Pretty much 40 weeks as well as school. I don't remember that education was important in my family. Family was big, we were poor and the money was needed. I thought that by signing up for that extra year I would be able to get a school and learn a trade and get an education. Make something out of myself. So I signed up for Communications Center Specialist.

Close to graduation from Basic Training I get called in. They want to know if I want to continue to stay at Ft. Lewis for pretty much the remainder of my time. Well, apparently they were not aware that I signed up for the extra year and school. Once I told them that, poof, that offer was gone. So off to Ft. Gordon and just finishing training, most of my fellow GI's got Germany, Italy and Belgium Civilian Status. I waited for 3 weeks or so and got Vietnam.

So the question is "Was this my Destiny?" As I said in a early post, I always knew I would go to war - even at a very young age and had actually talked about that happening. Now it was coming true. I guess one could say it was stupidity for signing up for another year but I believe it was my Destiny, a plan for my life from a Higher Being. As I do more posts I'll explain this a little more and give my reasoning on why I believe it was my Destiny and my Destiny played hand and hand with the Destiny of my fellow Brothers.

Well, time to get some Zzzzzzzzzzzzs. It's late and quiet and the night brings me back to basic training. One night it seemed to be especially quiet and I was sitting outside with a fellow Brother from Maine as Taps was being played. We had a very quiet conversation regarding the night and Taps. Somehow I knew right at that time that although I had no knowledge or meaning of Taps that it would become one of the emotional and gut wrenching things I could ever imagine. But it can also bring peace and comfort as well.

So as I fall asleep tonight, my Brothers will be in my thoughts and prayers as they always are. And although no one is outside playing Taps I still hear it and hear the words as I fall to sleep.

Day is Done,

Gone the Sun,

From the Hills,

From the Lake,

From the Skies,

All is Well,

Safely Rest,

God is Nigh.

My Destiny

Is one's Destiny defined at the time of conception. Is whatever going to happen in our life going to happen regardless and we have no control over it? Are the decisions we make predetermined as part of our Destiny? Or do we have the ability to really change our Destiny based on the decisions we made/make in our lives. I personally believed My Destiny was out of my control and just accepted what happened in my life as a part of my Destiny.

My earliest memory was in kindergarten. I remember several things. My name tag, the room, me and a person in my class banging on a piano. However, the biggest memory I had was not being able to put my mat up in the cubby once, which was too high in this large closet. I tried and tried but could not do it. Being very shy I never asked for help and continued to get the mat in the cubby. Eventually the teacher came and and put it up for me. I told my parents about it as I missed the graham crackers and milk. I remember that my mom spoke to my teacher about this and was angry. I was so ashamed and felt the teacher would no longer like me and that it was my fault.

Today I continue handle many things like this. I'm still what I consider shy, afraid to ask for help and always seem to put the blame on myself. I don't correct people if I am called the wrong name, rarely stand up for myself, etc. I don't want to hurt other peoples feelings but seem to be fair game for anyone else. And sometimes I know I'm going to screw up before it happens and know what will be coming next, "poor Mickey".

As I grew up I always heard, Poor Mickey, everything happens to him. He never has any luck. Gee, I feel sorry for Mickey. This really made me accept the fact that for some reason I was doomed no matter what I did. Bad luck would always follow me. And if there was any good, I rarely ever heard it.

When I think back I see many decisions I made that I knew was wrong before or at the time I made them. Was that part of my Destiny or did I really have the opportunity to impact that event. I'm not sure. So much is going on in my life right now and I'm really trying to look at each new event and see if I can change the outcome to something more suitable and not fall into the "Poor Mickey" syndrome.

Why is this important? I guess because I'm looking at my lifetime experiences more now than I have ever done because of these posts. It really makes we wonder if the outcome could have been different had my decision been different. And even though some of the outcomes could have been different, the experience gained may have helped me at a later time based on that experience.

Well, so much for questions regarding my Destiny. All this wondering has made me tired so off to bed for some Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz's. Now, that is a good decision and I'm making it.

Burn Patients

I was channel surfing and hit a channel showing a doctor treating burns of a crying child in Haiti. I watched for maybe 5 seconds and changed the channel. I felt very ill and nauseous after seeing this. I wondered why such vivid pictures must be show around the world. Was there a benefit to doing this? Will donations rise because of what we see? Is this for ratings or is it because this is what people around the world want to see suffering? Is this really news that we want to see? I find it so confusing and my emotions get so screwed up.

In March, 1971, the 24th took over as the Burn Center from the 93rd Evac which was closing. This brought in a whole new kind of casualty and something that I know I was not prepared for:

• Being on the chopper pad waiting to pull a burned pilot from and incoming chopper. He had been picked up by this small Loch Helicopter whose pilot was flying wildly as he tried to land. We thought we would be killed by this chopper as it made a wild landing literally sliding across the helipad towards us. The burned pilot jumped out of the door screaming with his arms up high in the air. He was burned on the upper body and had not shirt on. We didn't even attempt to get him on a litter, just ran with him into the ER.
• The experience of getting burned patients off the the choppers and into the ER.
• A burn patient in pre-op who had 2nd and 3rd degree burns who was speaking to us who died early in the morning with a number of us at his side.
• An unconscious soldier in pre-op who will never be operated on due to his poor condition who legs were horribly burned and ashen.
• The smell and look of burned flesh.
• Going into the burn ward each night to retrieve their 24 hour report seeing the patients having their dead and burned skin removed or being turned on the Stryker Frames.
• The high risk of infection.
• The horrible pain and suffering these patients experienced.

Maybe the confusion I feel is that I know what I saw on TV but have had the real experience of being there, participating and have the knowledge of what the patient and those who provide the care are actually going through. It leaves an imprint on your being that you will carry though your life and although it may be deeply hidden, it will rise at the least unexpected moment and feel as if it is happening before your eyes.

I don't know if one can say which type of wound is worse be it a traumatic amputation, head wound, burn, etc. but to me personally I always felt it was the burn patient. However, they are all horrific and they are always in my prayers.