[To mark this observance of Veterans Day, we are featuring a guest commentary by a good friend of the FlashReport, Nathan Fletcher, a Marine Corps veteran himself and candidate for State Assembly from San Diego. Tragedy nearly struck his family over the weekend…]
Saturday was off to a normal start for me—up early, cup of coffee, breakfast and the news. It was peaceful, regular and quiet. I had a busy day scheduled, but was enjoying my early morning routine. Across America I suppose many people were awakening to the start of a three day weekend—maybe even enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. If you were scanning the headlines one of the first stories you might have seen was about a Navy helicopter that had gone down in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of San Diego on Friday night.
No doubt that story brought a moment of pause—hopefully a silent prayer for those on board and for their families. Perhaps it reinforced the significance of the Veterans Day weekend. Hopefully it reminded all who heard that there are hundreds of thousands of brave men and women who put their lives on the line each day in service to our country—those in combat zones around the world, and those right here in America.
It hit much closer and more intensely for me. My “little” brother (actually younger brother is more appropriate given that despite my steadfast refusal to acknowledge the obvious—he is taller) was on that helicopter. He is a Navy pilot and was retuning to the Abraham Lincoln after a day of “training” — ironically rescue training. Around 9:00 PM on their way back to the aircraft carrier the helicopter experienced mechanical failures and crashed into a very cold and very dark Pacific Ocean.
Upon getting that phone call my peaceful Saturday morning was over. I have done the training courses for a downed helicopter and know how terrified I was in training for a helicopter that has to ditch in the ocean. I did it in a swimming pool–he did it for real. I also knew the statistics of helicopter’s going down in ocean—not good. I had a million questions. Did he get out? Was he hurt? How long was he in the water? What about the rest of the crew? I just talked to him a day ago—he has to be OK. The wave of emotions was overwhelming.
I was too busy going through all the scenarios in my head to hear the voice on the phone telling me he had been picked up out of the water and was receiving medical treatment for minor injuries. He and the entire crew were safe and my brother Jonathan would be transferred to Balboa Naval Medical Center later in the day. I could go see him there. I paused quietly and the news took a few seconds to process.
Then the next thought—how will our Mom react? Is she OK? Almost eight years ago my Mom received a phone call that her older son (me) had been severely injured in a training accident with the Marine Corps and she needed to report to Balboa Naval Medical Center ASAP. Five major surgeries and a very long hospital stay later we were out and recovering. She spent the last four years with two sons often deployed overseas at the same time—different branches of service, different parts of the world, same worry and anxiety. Years that included one Marine Corps son in the Sunni Triangle of Iraq with the other Navy pilot son making night time carrier landings in questionable weather. Years when “I’ll be home for Christmas” was more of a hope than an absolute promise. Twice her sons had been injured and she had received a phone call telling her to report to Balboa Naval Hospital; multiple times they had been gone for months at a time with little contact. She had never complained, never asked us to get out, and always been understanding.
Worrying about my brother I had a clearer view of what my Mom, my wife, and thousands of family members of service members go through each and everyday. The stress, the worry, the anxiety—and the dread of a phone call or knock on the door bearing an almost unbearable burden.
I was also reminded that often that call doesn’t end with the words, “He is OK and you can go see him later tonight”. I imagined for a moment – what if the call about my brother had not been one with good news. What if that lazy Saturday morning was forever seared into my memory with a pain and agony that can not be explained—just felt? That momentary thought is an eternal reality for the families of brave men and women who give their lives in service to our country.
We have Memorial Day to honor those who died in service to our country; Veterans Day to honor all who served; and I think we should add a third holiday—Armed Forces Family Day to honor the families who support those who serve. On this Veterans Day I hope everyone will make an extra effort to honor not only our brave men and women in combat zones, but also those who serve stateside and in non-combat locations around the world. And no honor to veterans can be complete without special appreciation for the bravest of our heroes—the families who stay behind.
A day that started with a Saturday morning and a cup of coffee finds me sipping another cup of coffee 22 hours later at 3AM at Balboa Naval Medical Center. I am thanking God for the safety and health of my “little” brother–the best man at my wedding, and my favorite veteran. He is right beside me sleeping soundly (snoring loudly to be honest). I am thankful that tomorrow my Mom will join both her sons in good health on Veterans Day.
Most of all, I am thankful that I live in a county that contains true heroes like my brother—those willing to risk and often give their lives to ensure Americans can enjoy lazy Saturday mornings in peace.
Nathan Fletcher is a Marine Corps combat veteran who served overseas in the Global War on Terrorism including Iraq and the Horn of Africa. He is a candidate for the California State Assembly in the 75th District. For more information visit: www.nathanfletcher.com.
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