Many people do not know this but although I am a proud pacifist I am also proud to come from a family that has served in this country’s armed services going at least as far back as the Civil War. I, like many of my relatives before me signed up to serve while a senior in High School as part of a delayed enlistment program that allowed me to go on weekend maneuvers with the National Guard Unit that I would be assigned to once I completed basic training. Although a pacifist I felt that I could align my personal and religious beliefs with the desire to serve; I elected to get into Military Intelligence as I felt my work may have been able to save lives. A rapidly growing lump in my throat, the eventual removal of tumors and cysts, need for ongoing treatment and resultant lifelong changes with my body ended my military service almost before it began; the military only wants healthy bodies. Later I attended a civilian program at Norwich University the private military college in Vermont (BA, MA & CAGS). I am proud to be affiliated with those who are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for their country. Coming from such a background I have sadly known many people who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country. I have worked with their families as they tried to pick up the pieces and have shed many a tear as the coffin was lowered for its final time. I developed a habit of collecting the brass from the soldiers who performed the salute and gave them to the next of kin to be shared by the family. You never get used to burying men and women in their 20’s or 30’s and you never lack for wondering why this had to happen. I will try is the motto of Norwich University; it becomes tattooed into your mind and quite literally on many a cadet’s body. Watching the news we tend to hear only the number of dead in the war but rarely the names unless they were a local or they were killed alone. More often we hear that 31 soldiers were killed in action and then the news moves on to the next story. Sadly the families do not have the luxury of moving on to the next story; the next chapter in their recovery has only just begun. That is where we clinicians come in to do our part. A while ago I had the privilege to meet an older gentleman who proudly served his country. He had the scars (both on his body and in his soul) to prove it. He was a poor man from a long line of poor people who served because he wanted to serve and also because it offered him a chance out of poverty. He left his leg in a MASH unit overseas; he left many of his buddies on the battle field; the war long over yet still engaged in his sleep and in his thoughts. His son or younger brother (I cannot recall) served in Vietnam though unlike his dad he was not greeted with parades upon his return; people forgot that you could support the soldiers while not supporting the war or those who made them. He discussed that he always thought that his sacrifice would serve not only for him but for his future kin. He felt that his sacrifice should make it so that they would have more options than he did. He was proud that the following two generations had the chance to go to college or fulfill other dreams. Still he was proud when his grandson announced that he too was going to serve his country. I was there that day not as a social call. I had never met him but heard through a brother that this man had learned that his grandson had paid the ultimate price and I wanted to do whatever I could do to assist; not as his doctor which I was not, but as a father, a brother, a person who cared. He acted the soldier: proud chin, chest out, few words and the talk of honor, pride of God and country. His voice cracked at times and his breathing increased as his hands shook while I pretended not to notice. He discussed his patriotic grandson as a few proud tears rolled down his cheek. “F**king allergies” was his comment as he wiped a cheek. So many losses. So many lost dreams. So many 'never to be's. When we work with those who have lost a loved one serving in the military it is easy to think of them as a statistic. We much remember that before they were a soldier they were our sons and daughters, grandchildren; they were the kid that sat next to us in class. He asked me how I knew he was having a bad day and a replied in a way that only two master masons would understand. We talked for a bit more before I had to leave. He thanked me for coming and I thanked him for his company. He returned to his window, looking out on a field that as a younger man he would have either enjoyed time with his friends or perhaps in his mind he was back on the battle field. The war is never truly over for many who have served. This post is dedicated to Brian Bill (Norwich 2001), his family and to all who served and were fortunate to return home and those who died so that we may live free.
Warren Corson III (Doc Warren) is a counselor and the clinical & executive director of a community counseling agency in central CT (www.docwarren.org).