February 19, 2013

The Terrible Moments That Define Us

Warning: This contains profanity and descriptions of war wounds.

One of my greatest sorrows is how some of the most memorable and significant events of my life were driven by bind hatred. I want to talk about an event that has challenged the very fabric of my humanity and has changed me.  An event that probably lasted less than ten seconds has irrevocably altered my life. During my second deployment as Anti Tank Platoon leader I was serving as the escort for my Battalion's Operations Officer Major (now Lieutenant Colonel) Massaracahia. While placing our vehicles in positions to move out we heard an explosion. After the fact we learned that a mentally ill women,  reported to be carrying a baby and, most likely remote detonated, blew up on a crowd of civilians waiting in line to receive compensation for damages to their homes (sustained during a massive clearing operation of the city). This was the most horrific event that I have ever experienced. There is still blood stains on my boots; blood that literally and figuratively will never wash away.

Because we were already in position to move my platoon was among the first elements to arrive and because my platoon had less than 4 soldiers who could dismount their vehicles, I went out to help who I could. I ran out with a combat life saving kit and came across the most significantly wounded human being I could ever imagine. At first he simply looked as if his injures were a severed leg, but when I tried to lift him his torsos gave in ways that they should not have. Gravity rather than the sinews of his body held him together (this moment was something I could not even remember in therapy and was blocked out until I wrote this account). His torso was rocked with multiple injuries that I could not even see through all of the blood and charred clothing.

He was bleeding from his head, but his worst injuries were on his left leg. Even with the damage to his abdomen I hoped  maybe he could be saved so I struggled to find a place to put a tourniquet. But, his left hip more resembled ground beef than human flesh and it was hard to tell where the wound began. It was difficult to determine what parts his body was intact and what had liquefied. His leg was still technically connected, but by what I could not determine because it all resembled a bloody and dirty gelatin warmed by the sun into a substance that was slightly between liquid and solid. No place for a tourniquet and the wound was far to large for an occlusive dressing. This poor man whose only crime was trying to replace the damage cause by a major U.S. operation was going to die and there was nothing I could do. Worse, in that moment despite the carnage I noticed that their were multiple supporting elements coming to help and that the security was getting really disorganized.

I was a platoon leader and though every fiber of my body just wanted to comfort this man who was going to die. I could not save him and now this poor bastard would die alone on street corner in Tal A Far Iraq. I will never forget the look on his face when I left him there to die. He did not know I was leaving to keep others alive and that real threats were trying to exploit our lapsed security (threats I would help eliminate). That poor man just thought I had given up on him. It was like watching a man's soul die along with his body. I am sure there have been worse moments, but I cannot fathom a greater amount of grief that has ever existed than watching his face as I left to take charge of the perimeter. I know that I did the right thing, but he did not understand. He died on that street alone and abandoned as an expectant casualty.

I wanted to curse the world that made me look a man in his eyes, realize that he was beyond help, and move on to things that I could effect. I wanted to say fuck the universe that made me have to be so callous and so methodical. For a moment I hated a world that possessed hate to such a degree that a man might see another man suffering, recognize the tragedy, and be forced to move on because he was an expectant casualty. If I or someone I loved was exposed to a similar circumstance all I would wish was that someone could comfort them. But, I had a platoon to manage and the area was less than secure. I thought to myself "I can feel this later but I have a job to do right now." I would not be able to feel anything but anger for years.

I will never dispossess that moment, with the sorrow and empathy that I gained from that man's terrible injuries. Moreover, how I left him their to die alone. I will possess that man's humanity to my last breath. Yet, I have no idea who he actually was, what he did for a living or even his name. Watching a man in such pain, with no help for survival, die made me feel like I let him down. It broke down cultural barriers. No worldview is worth what happened to that poor man, and you would have to be taught to hate others your whole life in order to justify the brutal killing of civilians. I just cannot fathom what it took to commit such a terrible atrocity.

I hope to never believe so passionate about a cause that any actions are justified. Because when "the ends justify the means" where does it stop before another innocent man is lying on the ground bleeding out with no possibility of aid. I came from that broken, but better. In the years that followed I would be asked to train Iraqi units. My empathy for the Iraqi people became the source of strength for the most difficult time period of my life. But that is another story altogether. It is not necessarily the moments by themselves that define us, but how and what we learn for them. In the same set of circumstances, other men, even better people might have learned another lesson. In the end all I know is that I did all I could do and that is enough. I was not then nor am I right now afraid of what I felt in those moments (though at times in between and certainly in the future I will be). But, I have had to fight to get there and I will have to keep fighting in order stay where I am. All of that is worth it because that poor nameless man's life is not wasted because I struggle everyday to never forget what hatred brings to our world and that beyond all the misery of that moment, which will never go away or be made better, I am so beyond lucky to have survived it. Better to have my moral compass still intact. This has been the hardest battle I have ever fought, and I think I winning.

My take away is simple. Do something tangible that helps others everyday. That is all I could do then and it is all I can do now. But, that is not a burden, rather it is a hard earned privilege that I am lucky and better to have gained. I owe that nameless man who taught me this terrible, but valuable lesson and I owe myself to have the courage to face it and apply it. Lest it be for nothing.

20 comments:

  1. Extremely powerful, extremely moving. It is so important for all of us to listen not only to voices such as yours, but even more to lives such as yours, souls such as yours. Thank you so much. No matter how you might be finding yourself feeling at this or any other moment, thank you.

    Rod Deaton
    www.ptsdandcombat.com

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  2. Thank you for sharing Joe. I know that wasn't easy to write. I learned the same lesson in Tal Afar.

    May our compasses remain intact through our continued effort to help others, every day.

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  3. Thanks do much for your kind words.

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  4. Thanks Scott for your powerful and moving account. I am writing a fiction film about a soldiers ongoing struggles with the guilt that you have been talking about in this post. There have not been many films made about soldiers struggling with this guilt, although a lot has been made about survival guilt, PTSD from seeing your buddies blown up- but very little about what happens when you kill in war or see events that kill your humanity.

    I wanted to have some email exchanges with you Scott and anyone else that can help as I need to do some research and I would like this to come from people who have experienced this first hand.. This way the film will be as accurate and meaningful to the real experience of people like yourselves... Please help. My email is d_alamouti@yahoo.co.uk. Drop me a line if you can help. Its just answering a few questions. Thanks.

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  5. This story proves there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. Your heart is beautiful. If I were there with you I'd say, that man is on the other side now. He knows ... He knows.

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  6. My partner Rachel and I talked about this Belinda at length. It is so hard to see events like this for what they are in their nuanced complexity rather than explaining them away with a preconceived narrative. When we do we waste are most valuable and hard earned lessons. The events themselves are terrible and we don't have choice about every way they changes us (i.e. nightmares, flashbacks, survivor guilt, hyperventilate etc. etc.) but what we can effect is how our outlook on life changes. A lot of it is really bad but not all of it. He have to fight for it though.

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  7. That man is in heaven now and is free of pain and knows of a man somewhere who cared about him so much. Big hugs to all troops

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  8. Wow! Thank you for sharing your perspective, your thoughts, your heart! I'm recently learning about PTSD and Combat Veterans, as my husband and I have only been married a year and his tours were complete long before I met him. I never realized the impact it has on not only the vets, but the loved ones around them...and you TRULY don't understand how anything, big or small, can have such a lasting affect on one's mind and heart.

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  9. Its harder at home because after moments like these it is difficult to care about the things that make a lasting relationship. Like doing the laundry or taking out the trash. But our families are also our greatest sources of support so we have to find a way to grow, not despite PTSD, but because of PTSD. I am not good at that yet.PTSD is certainly limiting, but it can become an excuse or a consistent rationale for not moving forward with our lives.I would not judge anyone for accepting all the limitations of the condition, but when we do we limit our greatest resources. Our own drive and our abilities to support the ones we love rather than just being supported by them. There is probably no one as guilty of this problem as myself.

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  10. Your story is too similar to my husbands...exact same situation....I only pray he can get to the point where you are....he still doesn't think anything is wrong with him, but there is so much anger towards the world and others not appreciating the sacrifices made my soldiers and their families. No anger at all towards us, but attacks others verbally. He has recently agreed to seek help. So positive baby steps for now. Thanks for your service and especially your story.

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  11. I did not get here overnight. It took time and anything that works takes time to take effect. It took me years to admit I had any problems and by that time it became so severe that I was physically ill. Positive baby steps is all I do, so you and your husbands story is not so far from my own. If anger is a problem I would personally recommend an outlet like fitness, writing. You have to do something with it.

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  12. where did you find the courage to write that? I am a OIF vet 03-04 and cannot/will not discuss my experiences, those are the burdens I bare to keep the majority of Americans ignorant of what war is really like so they can live carefree. Who's business it anyways....

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  13. I saw all the statistics about soldiers committing suicide and I had to do what I could. There is so much silent shame. Also, I don't walk around talking about this all the time. We can't be carefree about that statistic in the way that Americans were about what we were doing abroad. Also,I did a post on panic attacks during ultramarathons for Team Red, White and Blue (http://teamrwb.org/) and I got so much positive feedback that jumped at the offer to write for PASP.

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  14. Maybe I'll seek help myself after reading this.

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  15. Thanks, for letting me know it that helped and just trust me that anything that really works takes time and effort. Don't let yourself quit if you struggle at first we all do. Beware of anything that promises instant and permanent results, real treatment is a path you walk every day. That can be intimidated at first, but it is great path to be on once you get your bearings, and there are others out their who can help you with that.

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  16. The statistics on the number of soldiers committing suicide shocked me and really cut deep. Thank you for your service and for sharing your experiences --both the terrible experiences as well as the positive developments in your life afterwards. For those of us who have not been where you have -hopefully we can learn about PTSD too and help and understand it better.
    And thank you for your empathy, Joe. That kind of humaneness is a very needed, very valuable thing. All the best in your future efforts

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  17. It takes enormous courage to bring darkness into the light in this way. Your doing this makes you a man of great honor. You are helping other soldiers, yes, but possibly others with PTSD as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Joe.

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  18. Thanks again for all the well wishes, its amazing to have written this. The process itself has been so healing and engaging. Also the process of returning to it from time to time to get into a better place about about that miserable day.

    Joe

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  19. Joe: Thank you for your service to our country and allowing yourself to be a spokesperson for soldiers who endured horrific experiences by being supportive and opening up yourself to the pain and anguish the mind doesn't let go of easily. There's no better way than for one soldier to relate to another than speak out about their experience and offer understanding as yourself to touch mankind in a positive way and aid in their healing. Of course doing this also helps you to feel better and stronger too. You are to be admired and deeply appreciated. You are God's working vessel for others. Bless you!

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  20. Thanks again for the kind words. I hope your right about God's work. I am content enough that it inspired you, and I hope I can continue to in the future.

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Please share your comments, stories and information. Thank you. ~ Scott Lee