The Notification

I am so grateful that Karen chose to share this incredibly moving story as her guest post.  I think in many ways over the past decade, we've become desensitized to the realities of war and caught up in the politics.  This is a very timely reminder, especially in light of the recent casualties in Afghanistan.

Hi everybody! My name is Karen and I blog over at My Goal is Simple. I have been reading Tomorrow is Another Day for quite some time now and really appreciate Angela's open and frank nature of writing. For my guest post, I thought I would write about the day that changed my perspective and the day that I will never forget. Never.

You see, during our time at Ft. Drum, NY, my husband (Clay) was assigned to 3rd Squadron, 71st Cavalry Regiment. The unit was our family for over three years and we still regularly keep in contact with many people associated with 3-71 Cav, past and present. His first deployment was particularly difficult - filled with casualties, hardship, and 16-months of (pretty much) hell. The focus was on Iraq and the war was taking a turn for the worse in Afghanistan, without much notice from the media. In fact, I often heard, "at least he isn't in Iraq" when people would find out Clay was in Afghanistan. I admit that during his first couple of months in country, there was a false sense of security. After all, it wasn't Iraq...right?

Everything changed on May 5, 2006.

Everything changed that day. That is when a CH-47 Chinook helicopter crashed in the Kunar Province. Ten soldiers were killed, including four members of the 3-71 Cav. On board was 3-71 Cav.'s Battalion Commander, Lt. Col. Joseph Fenty, Spc. Justin O'Donohoe, Spc. David Timmons, and Pfc. Brian Moquin. You can read more about the crash at The New York Times.

Fear.

I turned on the news (like always) around 9am on Saturday morning (May 6, 2006). CNN reported that there was a helicopter crash in the Kunar province and referenced the location on a map. My stomach immediately sank, because I knew that was the area where Clay and other members of the unit were located. And it wasn't unusual for Clay to be in a Chinook on any given day. Lost and unable to make sense of what I was feeling, I posted on an online military support forum I belonged to about how the FRG (Family Readiness Group) notifies spouses and families about an incident involving the unit. I think I just knew. I knew that our unit was involved in some shape or form. I called both my parents and Clay's parents to tell them about my concern.

Confirmation of my suspicion came around 10am that morning. I answered the phone - shaking because I was afraid of what I was going to hear. [Please note - what happened next is NOT military protocol. Because of the nature of the crash and the fact that the Battalion Commander was killed, the script and call chain got off track.] I immediately recognized the voice of the key caller for our company and asked her if it was our unit. I am paraphrasing the response - I was told that there was an incident involving our unit, bodies were still being identified, and the Casualty Notification Officers would be making the rounds once identification was confirmed.

I remember very little about the rest of the day. I watched the news. Foolishly hoping to catch a glimpse of Clay, if anything, to prove he was alive. I prayed. I cried. I listened for the slam of a car door. For the knock on the door. I had no idea if my husband was dead or alive. I kept in contact with friends whose husbands were in the same unit but a different company - they didn't receive the same phone call I did. I answered calls from Clay's parents and his sisters. My parents kept calling to check in on me and priced airline tickets in case they had to fly up because, well - you know.

The day went on and I didn't hear from Clay, the FRG, or worse. I'm not sure how I fell asleep on Saturday night but I did. I woke up Sunday morning and got ready for church because I didn't want to be at home any more, jumping at the sound of footprints. The phone rang around 9am, just as I was putting my earrings on. I was told that all the bodies were identified and the next of kin had been notified. I was also told that a briefing about the incident would be at 12pm on post.

This meant Clay was alive. Nobody ever came to the door. He wasn't onboard. I can't recall a time that I ever cried harder than I did that morning. I made phone calls. And then I went to church. I thought about the families that did hear the car door, the footsteps, the knock. At this point, I still had no idea who was onboard the helicopter or whether other units were involved.

I went to the briefing at 12pm at the post chapel. The atmosphere was heavy. The Rear-D commander had tears in his eyes when he stepped up to the podium. We immediately fell silent - desperately wanting any shred of information about our husbands. He read from a piece of paper. His voice cracked as he began saying the names of the fallen - the men that were alive a mere 24 hours earlier. And then emotion overcame his voice as he read the last name - Lt. Col. Fenty. Disbelief spread like wildfire in the chapel...the commander was killed in action?

He was the man that stood up front during the Pre-Deployment Brief and explained the mission. He told us he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that our soldiers came home. He was the man whose wife just gave birth to their daughter the month before. He was the man to whom Clay looked up and proudly served under. And he was the man who was killed in action on May 5, 2006, along with nine other soldiers.

Monday morning.

My cell phone rang Monday morning on my way to work. "Unknown" popped up on the screen, meaning there was a 98% chance it was Clay. I can't remember the last time I heard his voice prior to the phone call and it was the first contact since the crash - the communication blackout had been lifted. I wish I could recall more about that conversation but I can't. Just glimpses of "I love yous" and periods of silence, for we didn't know what to say. I told him I thought he was dead. He didn't know how to respond. I didn't know how to respond. I blinked back tears. The phone call lasted less than 10 minutes and then he had to go.

I will never forget that feeling.

There were more deaths in the unit during the deployment. More notification phone calls. More memorial services. But just like many other firsts, I will never forget my first notification phone call. And I will never, ever forget how I felt that day, waiting for word whether Clay was dead or alive.

Remembering.

Furthermore and more importantly, I will never, ever forget the brave men of 3rd Squadron, 71st Cavalry Regiment who lost their lives during that treacherous 16-month deployment - Lt. Col. Joseph Fenty, Spc. Justin O'Donohoe, Spc. David Timmons, Pfc. Brian Moquin, SFC Jared Monti (Medal of Honor recipient), Staff Sgt. Patrick Lybert, Spc. Brian Bradbury, and 1Lt. Ben Keating. I am thinking of them and their families today. And I will continue to think of them for the rest of my life. I will never forget.

Perspective.

Clay and I talk often about that deployment. We talk about Lt. Col. Fenty and Lt. Ben Keating a lot. We also talk about the others too. Talking helps. Our vastly different experiences during those 16 months have shaped who we are today and the couple we have become. Same with this past deployment . Our bond is unbreakable. Little insignificant quibbles mean nothing, especially when I think back to that day. Knowing that Clay is alive and well is enough to make me forget about a silly little sock on the floor or shaving cream on the counter. The military can be a dangerous game for marriages and many do not survive. But those that do are incredibly strong and woven with lessons that typically can't be learned in regular life.

Articles.

If you wish to learn more about the mission during that particular deployment, here are a couple of interesting articles featuring 3-71 Cav...

Watching Afghanistan Fall (Salon)

US Forces Push Further Into Afghanistan

Northeastern Afghanistan Base Dedicated to Fallen Spartan Leader

Leading Your Unit Through Reset (features a picture of Clay) 

So if you made it this far, thank you for reading. I love any and all discussion so please feel free to comment here or over at my blog. Hope to see you there!

Have you experienced a day that changed your perspective? Was it war related?

Comments

[Heidi]

My heart was in my throat as I read this. Karen, thank you for sharing your story.

[Melissa B]

Thank you. Thank you for sharing this story so we may remember with you.

[Karen]

Thank you for reading, Heidi and Melissa. For whatever reason, the links in the post to my blog are not working. Sorry!

Karen
www.mygoalissimple.com

[A Super Girl]

Have you ever seen the movie "We Were Soldiers Once...And Young", with Mel Gibson? It's based on a true story about Vietnam soldiers and I love it because it depicts not only the war zone, but the homefront as well. As a former Army brat, I identify with the wife and kids who are at home while dad is off at war, trying to make the best of things and then slowly beginning to receive the notifications from abroad. I don't know that many people really understand the complexities of military life -- for both the soldiers/airmen/sailors/mariens and the people they leave at home.

[Katherine]

As an Air Force wife, I really identify with the fear and uncertainty and profound sadness you are describing! Military marriage are among the most, I think, rewarding and caring. You learn quickly to maximize time together and value your loved one's presence. Thank you for sharing your story!

[Kristina]

Thank you so much for sharing this story. I can't even imagine living with this fear day in and day out and then having it hit so very close to home.

Thank you, and your husband, and your family and friends, for the sacrifices you're making to keep the rest of us safe.

[Melissa]

This post moved me to tears. So well written, and I am happy to hear your husband made it home safely and I will say a silent prayer for those who didn't. Thank you for sharing that story, I can't imagine what that moment must have been like for you,

[Jennyfer]

I think I cried harder reading this post then I have in a while. Thank you for sharing. It really makes you think about how lucky you are to have your loved ones home and safe when so many others do not.

[Karen @ My Goal is Simple]

Thank you for all the kind comments. I really appreciate them. Thank you.

[Lynn]

Every time my husband deployed, I had the same fears. Never did I receive a notification, however, and I'm deeply grateful for that. Even reading your post (and crying into my coffee over it!), I can't imagine that sinking feeling that must have come over you. God rest the souls of the fallen.

Thank you for sharing this.