Update on Brian

I hope Brian doesn't mind me updating on his recent experiences. He started a blog and I knew that wouldn't fly for long. He's not much of a historian/journal keeper. Maybe that's why he married me, so that I could balance him out with all the things he doesn't really want to bother with. So here goes:

A few days ago, Brian called me feeling very distraught because he had just had his most gruesome encounter with war up to that point. Brian flies medevac one to two weeks a month. Generally speaking, it is for transport of relatively stabilized patients from an out post medical center the main hospital at Bagram. They've had a few that were in critical condition and they had to keep them alive for the flight. They have had a few that had died before they could get there and those individuals are usually in body bags. They are transported back to Bagram for Fallen Comrade Ceremonies and to return to the US.

However, they recently received a call to pick up soldiers attacked by a suicide bomber not too far from the base. When they got there, Brian said it really bothered him because there were so many people standing around and no one was doing anything. Maybe they didn't know what to do because there were bodies and parts strewn across the bushes. Brian and his medic were the ones who began pulling the bodies and putting them onto stretchers. Brian had to load the bodies onto the helicopter for transport. He said it was so difficult for him to see these soldiers in their ACU's and be able to read their name tags. I think every soldier sees a fallen comrade and realizes it's by God's grace only that they get to continue on. I have realized how much seeing another soldier perish, whether they are acquainted or not, truly affects the psyche of soldiers. They are brothers and they feel very much 'in it together' so to speak. These particular soldiers were on their way to Bagram to catch a flight home for R&R to visit their families. Knowing that those families were so excited and waiting to see their soldiers really broke Brian's heart and made the whole event even more distressing. Brian had one of those "Is it really all worth it?" moments and he seemed to develop a certain resentment toward the war and especially toward the Taliban.

Apparently, one of the bodies was only a torso and head, very badly burnt. This person, he found out, was the suicide bomber. He expressed a great deal of anger about this and said, "Maybe we should have just left him there." I understood his anger, but also realized how simplistic this term of "enemy" truly is. This young man walked with faith in his own religion. He was asked to do this great and noble thing. He's been taught that Americans are evil. Aren't we just Alice in the Looking Glass on this issue? We've been taught that we have to fight and die for democracy and that suicide bombers are evil. We all will die for something. . . for our religion, for our faith, for our families, for our nation, for our version of freedom. So how is he any more the enemy? Granted, in my mind I can't comprehend how anyone could believe that killing another person could constitute a Godly act. However, if a pedophile attacked my child, I think that I could feel justified in killing to protect those I love. Perhaps, I am playing the devil's advocate on this topic. I merely explained to Brian that that young man is no more evil, necessarily, than are we. Not one of us can see the world objectively, it's impossible--our vision is always tainted by culture, religion, experience, etc.--but we can avoid hating each other. I really felt for Brian to overcome the tragedy he had experienced, he couldn't hate that man. It's the hate that is perpetuating all of this in the first place. It's got to stop somewhere. I hate the tactics the Taliban/Al Qaeda use, I can't understand their justification, but I do know they are people with convictions just like us and hating them accomplishes nothing. Brian agreed, it's just hard to see it that way when you clean up the results of their "faith."

The next day, I asked Brian if he had had any more traumatic flights. He said, "Yeah, I had to go on a four hour flight today and I can't feel my butt cheeks." Talk about potential PTSD! I encouraged him to get in to talk to the chaplain about it right away. I even suggested he ask for some massage therapy from the chaplain since "therapy" is what they're there for. Brian responded, "If anything is going to give me PTSD it is a big man in camo rubbing my butt!" I guess he is recovered enough to joke about his situation. That's a good sign.