Reality...from Afghanistan

Good Afternoon ! It is 14 June 2010...I received the following story from a friend today...it was relayed to her from a ground commander in Afghanistan and was also carried in the Times. It details graphically what life is like for those in combat. I apologize if it is a bit strong BUT it is what our men and women face daily...and what you won’t find as headline news today between World Cup action and High School Graduations throughout the area.

In combat the human toll can be immense; but the psychological toll is often times greater…and this story makes that abundantly clear. I don't think in recent days or months you will find a story with so much emotion; so much grit and so much courage...courage that is not only meausured...but also also displayed with such regularity.

Brian

The Marine had been shot in the skull. He was up ahead, at the edge of a field, where the rest of his patrol was fighting. A Black Hawk MEDEVAC helicopter flew above treetops toward him, banked and hovered dangerously before landing nearby. Several Marines carried the man aboard. His head was bandaged, his body, limp. Sgt. Ian J. Bugh, the flight medic, began the rhythms of CPR as the helicopter lifted over gunfire and igzagged away. Could this man be saved?

Nearly nine years into the Afghan war, with the number of troops here climbing toward 100,000, the pace for air crews that retrieve the wounded has become pitched. In each month this year, more American troops in Afghanistan have been killed than in any of the same months of any previous year. Many of those fighting on the ground, facing ambushes and powerful hidden bombs, say that as the Obama administration's military buildup pushes more troops into Taliban strongholds, the losses could soon rival those during the worst periods in Iraq.

Under NATO guidance, all seriously wounded troops are expected to arrive at a trauma center within 60 minutes of their unit's calling for help. In Helmand Province, Afghanistan's most dangerous ground, most of them do. These results can make the job seem far simpler than it is. Last week, a Black Hawk on a medevac mission in the province was shot down by a rocket-propelled grenade, and four members of its crew were killed. And the experiences in May and early June of one Army air crew, from Company C, Sixth Battalion, 101st Combat Aviation Brigade, showed the challenges of distance, sandstorms and Taliban fighters waiting near landing zones. It also showed crews confronting sorrows as old as combat. In a guerrilla war that is turning more violent, young men in nameless places suffer wounds that, no matter a crew's speed or skill, can quickly sap away life.

For Company C's detachment in Helmand Province, the recent duty had been harried. Over several days the crews had retrieved a Marine who had lost both legs and an arm to a bomb explosion; the medic had kept that man alive. They had picked up two Marines bitten by their unit's bomb-sniffing dog. They landed for a corporal whose back had been injured in a vehicle accident.

And day after day they had scrambled to evacuate Afghans or Marines struck by bullets or blasted by bombs, including a mission that nearly took them to a landing zone where the Taliban had planted a second bomb, with hopes that an aircraft might land on it. The Marines had found the trap and directed the pilots to a safer spot. A few days before the Marine was shot in the skull, after sandstorms had grounded aircraft, another call had come in. A bomb had exploded beside a patrol along the Helmand River. Two Marines were wounded. One was dying.

For hours the airspace had been closed; supervisors deemed the conditions too dangerous to fly. The crews wanted to evacuate the Marines. "I'll go," said Sgt. Jason T. Norris, a crew chief. "I'll walk."

A crew was given permission to try. Ordinarily, medevac flights take off with an older, experienced pilot in command and a younger aviator as co-pilot. The two take turns on the controls. From Kandahar, the brigade commander, Col. William K. Gayler, ordered a change. This flight demanded experience. Chief Warrant Officer Joseph N. Callaway, who had nearly 3,000 flight hours, would replace a younger pilot and fly with Chief Warrant Officer Deric G. Sempsrott, who had nearly 2,000 hours.

Afghan sandstorms take many forms. Some drift by in vertical sheets of dust. Others spiral into spinning towers of grit. Many lash along the ground, obscuring vision. Powdered sand accumulates like snow. This storm had another form: an airborne layer of dirt from 100 to 4,000 feet above the ground. It left a low-elevation slot through which the pilots might try to fly. The Black Hawk lifted off in dimming evening light. It flew at 130 knots 30 to 40 feet above the ground, so low it created a bizarre sensation, as if the helicopter were not an aircraft, but a deafening high-speed train.

Ten minutes out, the radio updated the crew. One of the Marines had died. The crew chief, Sgt. Grayson Colby, sagged. He reached for a body bag. Then he slipped on rubber gloves and sat upright. There was still a man to save. Just before a hill beside the river, Mr. Callaway banked the Black Hawk right, then abruptly turned left and circled. The helicopter leaned hard over. He looked down. A smoke grenade's red plume rose, marking the patrol.

The Black Hawk landed beside dunes. Sergeant Bugh and Sergeant Colby leapt out. A corporal, Brett Sayre, had been hit in the face by the bomb's blast wave and debris. He staggered forward, guided by other Marines. Sergeant Bugh examined him inside the Black Hawk. Corporal Sayre's eyes were packed with dirt. He was large and lean, a fit young man sitting upright, trying not to choke on blood clotting and flowing from his mouth.

The sergeant asked him to lie down. The corporal waved his arm. "You're a Marine," the sergeant said. "Be strong. We'll get you out of here." Corporal Sayre rested stiffly on his right side. Sergeant Colby climbed aboard. He had helped escort the dead Marine to the other aircraft. The Black Hawk took off, weaving through the air 25 feet off the ground, accelerating into haze.

The corporal was calm as Sergeant Colby cut away his uniform, looking for more wounds. Sergeant Bugh suctioned blood from his mouth. He knew this man would live. But he looked into his dirtied eyes. "Can you see?" he asked. "No," the corporal said. At the trauma center later, the corporal's eyes reacted to light.

A Race to Treatment

Now the crew was in the air again, this time with the Marine shot in the skull. Sergeant Colby performed CPR. The man had no pulse. Kneeling beside the man, encased in the roaring whine of the Black Hawk's dual engines, the sergeants took turns at CPR. Mr. Sempsrott flew at 150 knots - as fast as the aircraft would go. The helicopter came to a rolling landing at Camp Dwyer. Litter bearers ran the Marine inside.

The flight's young co-pilot, First Lt. Matthew E. Stewart, loitered in the sudden quiet. He was calmly self-critical. It had been a nerve-racking landing zone, a high-speed approach to evacuate a dying man and a descent into a firefight. He said he had made a new pilot's mistake. He had not rolled the aircraft into a steep enough bank as he turned. Then the helicopter's nose had pitched up. The aircraft had risen, climbing to more than 200 feet from 70 feet and almost floating above a gunfight, exposed.

Mr. Sempsrott had taken the controls and completed the landing. "I was going way too fast for my experience level," the lieutenant said, humbly. No one blamed him; this, the crew said, was how young pilots learned. And everyone involved understood the need to move quickly. It was necessary to evade ground fire and to improve a dying patient's odds. Beside the helicopter, inside a tent, doctors kept working on the Marine.

Sergeant Colby sat, red-eyed. He had seen the man's wound. Soon, he knew, the Marine would be moved to the morgue. Morning had not yet come to the United States. In a few hours, the news would reach home. "A family's life has been completely changed," the lieutenant said. "And they don't even know it yet."

Barreling Into a Firefight

A few days later, the crew was barreling into Marja again. Another Marine had been shot. The pilots passed the landing zone, banked and looked down. An Afghan in uniform crawled though dirt. Marines huddled along a ditch. A firefight raged around the green smoke grenade. The Black Hawk completed its turn, this time low to the ground, and descended. Gunfire could be heard all around. The casualty was not in sight.

"Where is he?" Mr. Sempsrott asked over the radio.

The sergeants dashed for the trees, where a Marine, Cpl. Zachary K. Kruger, was being tended to by his squad. He had been shot in the thigh, near his groin. He could not walk. The patrol had no stretcher. A hundred yards separated the group from the aircraft, a sprint to be made across the open, on soft soil, under Taliban fire. Sergeant Bugh ran back.

Sergeant Colby began firing his M-4 carbine toward the Taliban. Inside the shuddering aircraft, the pilots tried to radiate calm. They were motionless, vulnerable, sitting upright in plain view. The Taliban, they knew, had offered a bounty for destroyed American aircraft. Bullets cracked past. The pilots saw their medic return, grab a stretcher, run again for the trees.

They looked this way, then that. Their escort aircraft buzzed low-elevation circles around the zone, gunners leaning out. Bullets kept coming. "Taking fire from the east," Mr. Semsrott said. These are the moments when time slows. At the airfield, the crews had talked about what propelled them. Some of them mentioned a luxury: They did not wonder, as some soldiers do, if their efforts mattered, if this patrol or that meeting with Afghans or this convoy affected anything in a lasting way.

Their work could be measured, life by life. They spoke of the infantry, living without comforts in outposts, patrolling in the sweltering heat over ground spiced with hidden bombs and watched over by Afghans preparing complex ambushes. When the Marines called, the air crews said, they needed help. Now the bullets whipped by.

A Hot Landing Zone

Cobra attack helicopters were en route. Mr. Sempsrott and Lieutenant Stewart had the option of taking off and circling back after the gunships arrived. It would mean leaving their crew on the ground, and delaying the patient's ride, if only for minutes. At the tents, Mr. Sempsrott had discussed the choices in a hot landing zone. The discussion ended like this: "I don't leave people behind." More rounds snapped past. "Taking fire from the southeast," he said. He looked out. Four minutes, headed to five. "This is ridiculous," he said. It was exclamation, not complaint.

His crew broke from the tree line. The Marines and Sergeant Bugh were carrying Corporal Kruger, who craned his neck as they bounced across the field. They fell, found their feet, ran again, fell and reached the Black Hawk and shoved the stretcher in. A Marine leaned through the open cargo door. He gripped the corporal in a fierce handshake. "We love you, buddy!" he shouted, ducked, and ran back toward the firefight. Six and a half minutes after landing, the Black Hawk lifted, tilted forward and cleared the vegetation, gaining speed. Corporal Kruger had questions as his blood pooled beneath him. Where are we going? Camp Dwyer. How long to get there? Ten minutes.

Can I have some water? Sergeant Colby produced a bottle. After leaving behind Marja, the aircraft climbed to 200 feet and flew level over the open desert, where Taliban fighters cannot hide. The bullet had caromed up and inside the corporal. He needed surgery. The crew had reached him in time. As the Black Hawk touched down, he sensed he would live. "Thank you, guys," he shouted. "Thank you," he shouted, and the litter bearers ran him to the medical tent.

The pilots shut the Black Hawk down. Another crew rinsed away the blood. Before inspecting the aircraft for bullet holes, Sergeant Bugh and Sergeant Colby removed their helmets, slipped out of their body armor and gripped each other in a brief, silent hug.

PTSD....and "Dear John" ... a Great Story

Its 11 June here in Washington, DC…projected to be another fine day weather wise here in the Nations capital.

I have been up since early morning working on my dissertation; the rewrite is exhausting…as is the research. As I mentioned in a previous posting the VA had sent this document back to me with over 70 pages of “extreme edits” that I am plodding through. Suffice to say it is mind numbing!

To give you some idea of the depth of research going on today in PTSD studies across the county…last year when I began my dissertation I reviewed approximately 21 pieces of ongoing research from various universities and government agencies...fast forward to 2010…there are now over 50 (fifty) national level studies that have direct application to the work I am currently doing.

I just finished reading the book “My War; Killing Time in Iraq” …it was a suggestion from the advisory team from the VA and I must say it was well worth the read. It provides both an overview of combat operations as well as an in-depth look at what a soldier goes through in both the preparation for combat as well as the reintegration back into society.

The book details Iraq War Veteran Todd Vance's life and was also the genesis for the movie "Dear John" which detailed the real experiences as an Army team leader for a Stryker Brigade in some of the most critical and violent areas in Iraq in 2004.

The rationale for reading the book and some of the additional materials sent from the VA was that Vance has successfully recovered from PTSD as a result of counseling he underwent in the VA health care system. It is this counseling methodology that will be incorporated into my dissertation to provide a more balanced approach to treating returning veterans.

Some background….

The "Dear John" movie was the brainchild of novelist Nicholas Sparks…author of other best-selling books such as "Message in a Bottle" and "The Notebook" …after hearing Vance talk about his combat experience in Iraq Sparks felt it was worth writing a script…and the movie was born.

Within the book, Vance also talked about the significance of getting letters from home from his then girlfriend. Some aspects of his relationship with the girlfriend and the time frame were changed between the book and movie. While the fictional character in the movie is wounded in battle in the movie, Todd Vance did not suffer any physical wounds. After Vance returned safely from Iraq in 2004, he went back to Fort Lewis and then settled in the San Diego area. At first, things seemed all right…but then the problems started.

While not physically wounded, Vance had witnessed severe human suffering during his time in Iraq, ranging from seeing fellow soldiers killed from blasts from IEDs and sniper fire to scenes in which Iraqi children were blown up. His experiences had taken a toll and he needed help. By his own words…."three or four months into it, I just had a crash…the nightmares got to a point where I could not function."

Enter the VA….and the mental health team…

Vance received intense psychotherapy for several years in order to get his life straightened out. His is a prime example of how educational outreach to family, friends, and significant others can work.

The significant issues addressed by the VA in regards to Vance were making him realize that by avoiding life situations that reminded him of his military experiences and avoiding his memories…he was avoiding the life in front of him…and more importantly he was hurting others. Vance’s life was continually impacted by nightmares, poor sleep, hyper arousal and vigilance…all of which impacted interpersonal relationships. It is these relationships that pose the core of my own research…and henceforth the reason for reading the book and watching the movie.

Todd Vance has reintegrated into society and is currently a college student, a part-time employee and a personal trainer in San Diego. He speaks with Veterans about his recovery and treatment at VA, and often refers Veterans to seek counseling and services.

If you have time I recommend the book…if you’re short on time then I recommend the movie…but either way you will get a good overview of what happens to a soldier who is exposed to combat…and then understand the National issue that is growing as a result of operations in Iraq and Afghanistan…PTSD

Have a great weekend!

Brian

War Crimes...and my personal history

Good Morning!

It is 10 June 2010 here in Washington, DC. It has been a couple of very difficult days based on the flare-up from Reiters as well as continued difficulties with medications…another round with the doctors today so hopefully it will all work out. Suffice to say I don’t want another repeat of yesterday.

I sat up this morning and read the daily news. Buried deeply within the context of the online “paper” was a story that probably won’t see the light of day unless you are actively following it like I am…two Bosnian Serbs were convicted this morning of genocide and sentenced to life imprisonment for the 1995 massacre of Muslims in Srebrenica. It was the harshest judgment ever delivered by the U.N. war crimes tribunal on the Balkan wars…but to be quite honest…these sentences handed down by the tribunal allowed these killers to get off easy.

Mr. Vujadin Popovic and Mr. Ljubia Beara, convicted of the worst crime in the war crimes statute, were high-ranking security officers with the Bosnian Serb Army that overran Muslim forces and thinly armed U.N. troops in the Srebrenica enclave. In the same trial a third individual Drago Nikolic was also convicted of aiding and abetting genocide while serving as a brigade security commander. All three were in the chain of command of General Ratko Mladic, the Bosnian Serb commander who remains a fugitive 15 years after his indictment.

To give you some idea of the significance of this heinous act let me try to put it in perspective for you…the deliberate slaughter of some 8,000 Muslim's by these men was the worst massacre on European soil since World War II. Tens of thousands of civilians were evicted from their homes, in what the U.N. court has called a deliberate attempt to wipe out the Muslim community from that area. General Wesley Clark who was in charge of the theater of operations commented at the time:

“By seeking to eliminate a part of the Bosnian Muslims, the Bosnian Serb forces committed genocide. They targeted for extinction the 40,000 Bosnian Muslims living in Srebrenica, a group which was emblematic of the Bosnian Muslims in general. They stripped all the male Muslim prisoners, military and civilian, elderly and young, of their personal belongings and identification, and deliberately and methodically killed them solely on the basis of their identity”

The most violent of the aforementioned acts was initiated by Beara who was accused of participating in a joint criminal enterprise led by General Ratko Mladic with a goal of capturing and then summarily executing by firing squad thousands of Bosnian Muslim men and boys aged 16 to 60 from the Srebrenica enclave from 12 July 1995 until on or about 19 July 1995. Having personally seen the mass graves exhumed in and around Srebrenica I can tell you that his actions stand in stark contrast to civilized and compassionate military units.

According to the indictment, Beara was said to have personally participated in the beheading of 80 to 100 Muslims on 12 July 1995 with the criminal intent and the state of mind to destroy a part of the Muslim population of Bosnia, as a national, ethnic or religious group which constituted a crime of genocide. In addition, he was also said to have persecuted the Srebrenica refugees on political, racial or religious grounds, to have forcibly displaced them, and finally to have exterminated them.

Now some of you will ask why I am so “close” to this issue and to be quite frank it hard to discuss without becoming emotional.

In the later part of the 1990’s I was assigned to a specialized element within the Department of Defense that was responsible for “hunting” individuals who were responsible for atrocities committed in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The following is taken from an award that was given upon completion of the operations:

“Throughout his 16 months in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Major Hayes conducted specialized intelligence and targeted capture operations that resulted in the subsequent detention of three other high value targets (HVT) for which NATO, The US Embassy in Sarajevo and The International War Crimes Tribunal issued sealed indictments for war crimes…at great personal risk to not only his men but also himself, Major Hayes upheld the principles of morality, personal integrity and justice and with flawless interpretation and commanded these inherently dangerous, complex and vital operations on behalf of the United States and NATO.”

Included in the aforementioned were operations to find and detain Serbians Mr. Vujadin Popovic and Mr. Ljubia Beara for their actions and participation in the Srebrenica Massacre in 1995. Although we never found or apprehended them I would like to think that our actions kept them on the run and continually looking over their backs. Both criminals finally succumbed to continued NATO operations and finally turned themselves in 2005.

Looking back on that time in my life I remember vividly the operations; the men assigned and the overall sense of despair of the people who suffered greatly at the hands of these "animals" ...these are images and thoughts that I will never forget.

It is a shame that this article and the events surrounding it will only receive a cursory review from the general public today before we all go back to our vacations, the soccer games and the other events that currently define our lives. Lost are the lives of countless individuals who were exterminated based solely on a religious belief and taken were the dreams of countless others who live with the vision of these horrors.

On 10 June 2010 a measure of justice for these people was handed down…but there is still much more to do.

Brian

Another Day...Away from Me

8 June 2010 in Washington, DC…it is very much a nice day here. I am on my way to the hospital to chat with the doctor regarding medications. As many of you know I use to take several types of medicines that helped me deal with my Reiters Syndrome effectively however based on the new heart medicines that I am on I am no longer able to take them. The net result is that my “Reiters” is coming back in full force. It’s amazing what the medication was able to do over the past 10 years in allowing me the opportunity to ski, skate and run…now those activities as well as just day to day functionality are in jeopardy.

I am sitting here thinking of my grandfather Mike (Papa)who suffered immeasurably at the hands of arthritis…and how my grandmother took care of him from thetime I was a youngster up through his passing. We have advanced so far from the standpoint of medicine and treatments for arthritis from where my grandfather stood 25 years ago…yet we still have so far to go. Another campaign…for another time.

Jake and Ian have their Colonial Forge Lacrosse Dinner this evening and I will be in attendance. Very much looking forward to Jake’s All Star Selection announcement as well as Ian’s nod to Varsity Goalie for the 2010-2011 season…should be a great evening.

I spent several nights wide awake till 2 AM and beyond revising the poem below. It was originally submitted to the publisher however it was sent back several times for revision. It’s absolutely amazing in working with a publisher…especially one that has never done a modern piece of poetry previously…how do these companies stay in business?

This morning I received an email from Ms. Jehanne Dubrow. For those of you who don’t know her (and up till last week I did not either!) she is a published author of three poetry collections; most recently Stateside which depicts her experience as a military spouse through poetry. I had heard her speaking last week while listening to NPR and given the title and subject matter of my book thought she might be interested in discussing the similarities as well as differences between writing as a spouse (her work)versus as the actual soldier on the ground (my work)…all the while using poetry as a medium. After explaining the trials and tribulations of working with a publisher her parting comment…”welcome to the club” ...follow-on discussions should be lively!

You can read about Ms. Dubrow at http://gefiltereview.blogspot.com/

Enjoy the day…and warmest regards

Brian


Away From Me

Each day passes
Often slow
I miss this woman
But does she know

That the time
We’ve been away
I’ve missed her with
Each passing day

We were one
In heart and soul
Together always
Our lives were whole

We walked a path
That bought us near
To the things we loved
And held so dear

She was a ray
That shined so bright
I loved this woman
Both day and night

To be a couple
That time could see
I needed her so
And on one knee

I’d make her mine
In all I do
Our love was one
For this she knew

Off the Grid...

“You don’t have to grow up and be famous…you just have to grow up and make your Mom and Dad proud!”
Ms. Meryl Streep; Commencement Address; Barnard College, 2010

I spent the day working on my dissertation as well as some house cleaning. When done I pulled out the Warren Miller ski film collection and watched some extreme skiing in from my least favorite country….France! The video was a series of clips from the WESC (World Extreme Skiing Championships) over the past 10 years. A staple in those films was a great American hero…Doug Coombs…who died in La Grave, France in 2006 while trying to rescue a fallen friend skiing what is commonly known as “fall-and-you-die terrain”

Doug was a former extreme skiing champion and considered by many of his peers to have been the finest big-mountain skier in the world. He operated steep-skiing camps in Alaska, Jackson Hole, and La Grave prior to the accident. To put his contributions in perspective Doug Coombs was often considered the Wayne Gretzky of skiing.

If you’re looking for background on extreme skiing then there are two key pieces for your collection. The first is an excellent book on extreme skiing out by Bill Kerig’s…The Edge of Never. The second is the mind-bending film Steep and Deep which offers extraordinary footage of extreme big mountain skiing, historical background on the French roots of the sport, and glimpses of Doug Coombs’ dignified, fearless, and steadfast career.

I own both of these great works but I wish I was a better writer so that I could tell you just how good the book and movie really, truly do portray the extreme skiing world. Some of the greatest big mountain skiers laying it all out, dreaming up what they want to accomplish...and being brave!

Several years ago, I had the pleasure of skiing some extremely steep runs with Jake and Ian (and their good friend Travis) in Utah – the ski patrol had just cleared the area of avalanche threats when – after a short hike up - we “jumped in” at almost 10,000 feet…in some of the most challenging terrain in North America. It was exhilarating chasing the boys down the mountain as the first time they had ever been at the altitude as well as on that type of terrain…and they nailed it.

In watching the movie today something resonated with me that I had not thought about recently…I remember watching the boys help a young kid who had “crashed and burned” midway down that mountain run. After digging him out they helped him put on his skis and pointed him in the right direction to get down to the lodge. On the lift heading back up the mountain the boys commented on how that rescued kid will be a great skier someday … all I could think of was how proud they had me…and how hard I have to ski to keep up with them…and just like Doug Coombs…how they went out of their way to make sure that others were taken care of…first and foremost!

Brian

Cover Art...and working with publishers!

4 June 2010

Originally penned in 2006 and finished in May 2010 in Washington DC...a Poem...titled "Our Pain” from the upcoming Mill City Press Release by Brian Hayes


Good Morning – I just found out the Ice Road Truckers is back this weekend…great show on the History Channel!

I spent a portion of the morning working with the publisher on several pieces for the upcoming book. Not many more changes…but that is what they said last week! Each day a poem (or two) comes back with changes from the Mill City Publishing and each day I resubmit…it’s a painful process!

A good friend sent me some suggestions for cover art that I had not previously thought about. I shared with her the attached silhouette of my time on operations overseas…now looking to utilize this picture as the cover art for the book…still working on colors but suffice to say I am very excited about the preliminary results. Thanks Karen!

Enjoy the weekend…looks like it should be great weather!

Brian

Our Pain

In my life
I have known
A pain that was so deep

It stole my heart
And crushed my love
For now…I never sleep

Throughout our life
We’ve come to know
Many places, thoughts and things

But in this life
What matters most
Is the love…a loved one brings

She put her heart
Out on her sleeve
No questions ever asked

In her place
I stole that love
And in its warmth…I basked

I gave her not sincerity
Alas…
What did I do…?

I stole her love
And then she asked
“For what am I…to you?”

To let her know
She means the world
Forever and a day

My heart is broken
Yet…deep inside
I find the courage to say

You mean the world
And all it takes
Forever…no one like you

I have seen the past
And the present
And in the end…I knew

The pain I hide
Deep within…
It echo’s everyday

You are the love
Of my life
Forever…I do and say

Some Final Thoughts...and another work of Poetry

From May 2010 in Washington DC...a Poem...titled "To Love Her” from the upcoming Mill City Press Release by Brian Hayes

It’s 3 June 2010 and I am on my way to the hospital. It’s a scheduled visit but one that I am in desperate need of. The medication I have been taking has been causing an inordinate amount of heart palpitations; some of them quite strong. Although I have been having these previously the last several days have been an eye opener. My hope is that it is merely a complication which stems from the new ACE inhibitor…we shall see.

I have Jake’s All-Star Game later this afternoon and am very much looking forward to that. This will be his last “formal” game prior to his graduation. I am sure Ian and I will be seeking shelter from forecasted rain showers while sitting in the stands!

This will be one of the last poems from my collection penned in 2009-2010; I have been “arguing” with the publisher several times a day on how many poems will actually be in the book…they want more however 25 seems like a good number based on other publications…again…we shall see.

The inspiration for this piece was quite simple…a loss.

Many times in our life we meet people who we feel…may be the one…and then we sit back and continually question how the decisions we have made previously will impact the future…and what we need to do to change…for it’s the change that will make the difference...and hopefully dampen the loss.

Enjoy!

Brian

To Love Her

To love her so
I have to be
Not what I was
But what she’ll see

When I return
And daylight leaves
She’ll see the man
Who truly believes

That life is full
Of so much more
As love embraces
Just as before

When time stood still
And we were one
My lover and I
We had begun

To make our life
And so much more
A love so strong
We couldn’t ignore

Just what it meant
And how we felt
You made me laugh
And made me melt

I felt just like
I needed to be
With you forever
As time will see

To love her so
I must be
What I’ve become
What she will see

City Lax: An Urban Lacrosse Story

“The growth of the game and urban programs are about serving neighborhoods that did not previously know the game...that is what City Lax is about.”

Good Morning

Just the other night I was able to sit with Jake and Ian and watch a brilliant documentary entitled “City Lax: An Urban Lacrosse Story” … on the surface it was a look at inner-city lacrosse, however it was so much more including an intensely personal narrative that exhibits the hardships of growing up in the inner-city of Denver and what it means to be a member of a disadvantaged family in today’s society.

When the boys and I first started watching this piece we were immediately introduced to Mr. Erik Myhren’s and his dilapidated passenger van. He is the main character and in the first several minutes all you see is his shuttling future “lax” players around Northeast Denver; the preverbal “soccer Mom” … you quickly surmise that he is a very special person.

Erik Myhren’s life is a story in resilience itself. After a bout with an undiagnosed illness that almost took his life, Erik, a longtime teacher goes on to dedicate a large portion of his time away from the classroom to providing less fortunate students with experiences that they would not have otherwise had the chance to enjoy.

Now the operative question most will ask is…Why would he do it? Without giving away the whole picture...suffice to say...its a very rewarding pursuit!

He tells of how on one such occasion, he introduced a handful of his 5th graders to some lacrosse sticks, and that these primarily minority students took to the sport much quicker than even he could have imagined.

From line drills in the schoolyard to the team’s first game against a local American Indian youth program, the viewer is given a visually stunning portrayal of the development of a number of these individuals with lacrosse employed as the catalyst in assisting them in breaking from the cycle of drugs, gangs, violence and ultimately, imprisonment or premature death.

In order to show what Erik and his assistant coaches are up against, the film perfectly illustrates the multitude of traumas that many of these 11 and 12 year olds have had to overcome, most notably failings in the classroom, the incarceration of parents and the death of immediate family members.

When viewed as the sum of all its parts its amazing to see what this sport can do in helping kids realize hidden talents and this documentary (and the sport) gives them a platform to perform while attempting to rescue them from the uncertain future that many kids in the inner-city face .

City Lax is truly nothing short of inspiring and captures the essence of not only a great sport…but the efforts of select few who have a made a difference for kids who might not ever have been given a chance.

When it comes back on a station near you take the time and watch it…and not just for the lacrosse...and thanks for the picture (above) Jake!

Brian.

The Setting Sun...A Memorial Day Discussion

From June 2010 in Washington DC...a Poem...titled "The Setting Sun" from the upcoming Mill City Press Release by Brian Hayes


It's June 1, 2010 here in Washington, DC and it was an in incredible last couple of days. I was able to travel to Ferrum College with Jake and Ian over this long weekend to participate in freshman orientation. Jake is a lucky guy given all that this college has to offer. I was actually reflecting back on my college days with both boys on the nearly 4.5 hour ride out to the campus…which I might add is in the middle of “nowhere” – I never had an orientation nor did I travel 4.5 hours to get to school! It was the Blue Line to Government Center in Boston and then about a quarter mile walk to the fabled Suffolk University on Beacon Hill...but I digress.

Being that far off the beaten path is going to be a bonus for Jake…and he knows it. The school prides itself on its academic and athletic achievements and that attitude permeates through the faculty directly to the students. It was interesting watching all the lacrosse players that Jake has played against here in Northern Virginia recognize each other as well as recognize the fact that they will all be on the same team here come August. I took solace in the campus police presentation which denounced alcohol, drugs, pre-marital sex and just about any other activity that could get a student into trouble!

As you know it was also Memorial Day weekend…and a time for reflection…I received many emails and calls from friends and service members with well wishes and war tales from “down range” ... Memorial Day affords us the opportunity to look back at the sacrifices made not only during our lifetime but from the standpoint of the generations that have fought and died since the inception of our Nation. A few tears were shed as I personally remembered some of the fine men that I had the great pleasure of serving with who are no longer with us.

One great thing about Memorial Day is the fact that all the great military movies are run pretty much all weekend. I sat home yesterday for a bit as I watched “Where Eagles Dare” and “Heartbreak Ridge” … yes I know…maybe not on par with “Midway” and the “Big Red One” but entertaining none the less! If you have never watched the movie “Where Eagles Dare” then you owe yourself a two hour break…Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood are both charismatic and believable in this epic WWII picture…and no Memorial Day would be complete without viewing “The Devils Brigade”…another classic WWII movie and well worth the watch!

The below poem is entitled The Setting Sun…I penned this several years back but just finished its review this morning. I hope you like it!

Brian

The Setting Sun

I wake every morning
To the sun…fresh on my face
I gaze…deep at your picture
And feel its warmth and grace

I wonder where you are
Where you go…and what you think
I miss the touch…of your hand
And in the moment…I start to shrink

I miss your love…but most of all
I ache…for your embrace
To hold you close…don’t let go
Please take me from this place

You are the one…that I love
To no other…I would be true
From that moment…our eyes met
I hoped…it would be you

For we will be together
No one takes that away
We walk the earth side by side
For with you…I must stay

Forever…to you true
Is what I promise thee
As we move…on through life
For all the world to see

I can’t imagine looking
On the sun…setting low
Without your love to guide me
And my love…to bestow

Upon you everyday
As we spend our life as one
To love, honor and cherish
As we watch...the setting sun

Where Our Love Rests

From May 2010 in Washington DC...a Poem...titled "Where Our Love Rests” from the upcoming Mill City Press Release by Brian Hayes

27 May 2010 – it’s my brother Kevin's birthday today...this will be the last posting this week as I will be traveling with the boys over the next couple of days to visit Jake’s college – it’s a hot and humid day in DC and it is starting to look like summer. I have several medical appointments next week that will preclude me from posting regularly so please be patient. The manuscript for the book is complete and submitted so other then cover art and some internal document changes I hope to have the initial draft back to me within two weeks for final inputs.

Enjoy the weekend

Brian


Where Our Love Rests

I long to feel your warm embrace
You’ve come to me with love
And asked to make us one in life
I’ll hold you there….above

No matter for what I do
I keep you held on high
Soon you will be one with me
Like the stars…held in the sky

I look to the heavens and search for help
In keeping you…close to me
And ask that all our dreams come true
For this…I will decree

That I will be forever
The man you…need of me
I will love you for a lifetime
And for all…eternity

For we have been together
And life…has just stood still
Our journey has been a treasure
A lifetime of love…to fill

Deep within our hearts
This love will always be
Together…within each of us
For as long as we can see

For every waking hour
And every passing day
You bought me to a new place
In all…you do and say

Yes..we shall be together
As it has always been
Our lives…are full of love
And our life…lies just within

Happiness is only real...when shared

Its 26 May 2010...I just finished watching the movie “Into the Wild” ... many words can describe this dark drama as it plays out across the US and comes to its conclusion in the wilds of Alaska…however perplexing and disturbing are two terms that readily come to mind for me!

From a Readers Digest point of view the movie follows a young man who rejects the society that gave him so much; constant internal and external battles with his parents and ultimately a two year hike across the US before deciding to venture to Alaska where he ultimately starves to death. The End!

But there is so much more to this story then what I have just illuminated.

Into the Wild chronicles Christopher McCandless, the doomed Emory University graduate who tossed everything away to live the life of a hopeful vagabond crossing America in the early 1990’s. He scribbled the memorable quote...”happiness is only real...when shared” …while close to death from starvation in rural Alaska where he had been living for months.

Background

The colorful, yet way too short life of McCandless is chronicled in Jon Krakauer's book (same name as the movie) and can be literally interpreted as a spoiled kid posturing through a pretentious rebellion against his troubled, yet privileged, youth. I take the opposite view however…as I see McCandless executing his own rebellion in an attempt to exorcise his past by experiencing life on his own romantic Thoreau-inspired terms...and I also credit him with having the wherewithal to do so.

McCandless is presented in both the book and the movie as somewhat of a tragic figure: a bountiful life full of individualistic adventures and internal searching; a life where his passion for living touched all he encountered…yet ended with his solitary death in a mammoth wilderness so far from those he cared about.

This, however, doesn't make his journey seem like a waste. To the contrary, until his lonely passing, the paths McCandless chose crammed a lifetime of passion into his short time among us. Hollywood has a way of romanticizing heroes, but with Krakauer's investigative techniques (he also authored The Dead Zone) there was no question that those with whom McCandless shared his nomadic quest were touched by the young man's enthusiastic zeal. The hippie couple who saw him as a younger vessel of themselves; the wild farmer (played by Vince Vaughn) whose wild ways were somewhat tempered by the naivety of McCandless, and the elderly religious widower (played by Hal Holbrook) whose lonely life was turned right-side-up by McCandless as the embodiment of a son whose life was lost decades earlier to a drunk driver.

In viewing the movie one sees that McCandless paints a strong and often spiritual significance where the book makes little or no mention of this apostolic aspect. Christ-like imagery of McCandles floating naked down a river in a crucifix pose; the hippies asking if he could walk on water; and an emotional scene on a mountain where the widower and McCandless touch on “the nature of God” …all of these moments (not to mention the last few minutes depicted of McCandless' life) point to a deeply felt appreciation of a divine touch in our own lives as well as the life of McCandless.

It's also telling that in the book the widower vehemently renounced God when he learned of the young man's lonely passing. Having left that piece out of the movie shows that, despite one sad man's disillusionment, the life of Christopher McCandless was somewhat of a spiritual touchstone for those that new him and should not have been overlooked.

In the End...

Having read the book as part of a psychology class I was taking several years ago and now having time to look at the movie one can easily see that McCandless embodied true individualism…and ran to Alaska in an effort to escape both a materialistic lifestyle as well as social entrapment…all the while seeking a peaceful and individual existence.

Look around us today…everyone is pursuing a college degree, a decent internship, a good post graduate school, a good salary, a good car, a good house, a better salary, a better car and a bigger house, and on and on...but McCandless’ core question still remains…”what is the meaning of life?”

I watched this movie and found some very poignant moments as well as some very candid questions that we as individuals and as a society need to ask ourselves…and truthfully answer.

I thought about myself and my kids as this movie played out on the screen…and how would I answer the question “what is the meaning of life?”

I don’t know the answer but with what I saw on the screen today as well as read in the book…and obviously for McCandless…simply making a difference in the lives of the individuals you come in touch with becomes the meaning of “happiness is only real…when shared”

As my time plays out…I can only hope that this is true…

Brian

With You in My Life

It is a grey Tuesday in DC and I am sitting and waiting on a weekly blood draw to ascertain how the new medication is working on my system. Many of you know that I am not a big fan of needles…I hate them...but it is a necessity and one that I can’t be lax upon. If you have been following the BLOG I have digressed for several weeks and concentrated on sports; the boys; poetry and other family matters. I received an email last night simply asking…”how are you?”

I have deflected this question for several weeks as I did not want to answer it. The fact of the matter is I have not gotten any worse however the converse is also true; I have not gotten any better. I received a new dosing and new medications (ACE Inhibitor/Blood Thinner) last week which is supposed to “stall” the heart muscle deterioration. Complications associated with this center on my liver and kidney function…henceforth the blood tests.

So with all of this I am still writing and finishing the manuscript based on publisher inputs for my first book. When that is done and submitted I am considering another book based on the operations we conducted in Central Asia; especially the Voz Island operation I wrote about previously.

One of my favorite poems is attached…it is titled “With You in My Life” and it was crafted back in 2005...and subsequently update last week. Back when it was originally crafted, it reflected the sentiment of many of my guys who were always complaining about not being home with their significant other...some very poigant moments spent disussing and listening about relationships and how important it is to have somebody at home while you are fighting abroad.

It’s amazing what a man will think about when he is under stress…and under fire while away from his significant other; the arguments; the good times; the not so good times and the longing for that single person who makes you complete. I think the salient point in this poem is the second to last stanza…for in it one realizes that it is not about geographical proximity to the one you care about…but simply having the thought of that person in your “mind and in your heart” that will keep you close no matter how long or how far you are away from each other.

I hope you enjoy the piece and as always…thanks for reading!

Brian

With You in My Life

When you stand beside me
Surely I can see
This life is full of promise
So this…I do decree

That as the hour passes
Each and every day
My love for you grows stronger
In all I do and say

As daylight fades to darkness
And nighttime…fills the sky
I’ll honor you with courage
For in me...you can rely

Upon my love and gentle touch
To keep you close to me
My heart is placed within your hands
For all the world to see

That we are one together
And none…could take away
This love that we possess
For this…I’ll always pray

That God will keep you close
And love…will keep us strong
For in our mind…and our hearts
The life that we belong

No other can replace
Just what I found with you
Our life will always be
For this…we always knew

From 2004...and modified May 2010 in Washington DC...a Poem...titled "Thoughts for Today" ... from the upcoming book by Brian Hayes

A Thought for Today was a poem written in 2004 when I started to seriously consider poetry as a means of expressing what was going on in my life and what I was seeing around me. As I look back from where I sit today I see the elements that caused these lines to be placed onto paper back then reverberate today. It is as relevant for me now as it was then.

I have completed over 25 poems for inclusion in the book which is tentatively titled “Reflections of a Soldier’s Story...Through the Eyes of Poetry. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank You


Thoughts for Today

She made me laugh
I made her cry
What for am I to do
I loved her so…each and everyday
That our hearts beat true and true

And on that day… so long ago
We promised…never be alone
She stole my heart and kept it close
From that...I’ve truly grown

Her love was unconditional
For me…like none before
She knew of what I could provide her
Forever…more and more

From that moment...I loved her so
And always…I would say
You meant the absolute world to me
For this…I stop and pray…

That as time goes by…it heals most things
So I ask you for this thought
Keep me ever close in your mind
And forever…within your heart

True Friends...and the Truth

28 April 2010 was another very emotional day for me...and not because the Capitals lost in game seven at the Verizon Center.

I was able to reconnect with some very good friends on this date and relive some extraordinary times that I have had the pleasure as well as the honor of participating in...times that I will never forget...and that my friends will never let me forget.

Through the late 1990's and into the early 2000's I was fortunate to have worked with many great Americans...folks who gave selfishly and without fanfare, accolades or recognition in defense of our great Nation...but none of them finer then my friend...Scott Harvey.

Scott was a mainstay on many of the deployments I conducted to the former Soviet Union countries of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and Russia. I have lost count of the number of times he and I...and the teams we led...travelled "across the pond" to visit these backwards areas conducting operations geared towards defeating the remaining Soviet Biological Weapons threat...suffice to say I don't think I ever depended on anyone more then I depended on Scott. He made sure we maintained focus and bearing while conducting these sensitive missions...all the while providing a modicum of levity and humor in a stress filled environment.

Scott was one of those guys that I had always considered a true professional. You only had to tell him one time what needed to be done...and he always found a way to get it done. No complaining...no remorse...no regrets. Scott was always about the mission...and the personnel... and making sure we never failed. He was adept...he was intelligent...he was a confidant...and more importantly...he was my friend.

I received several calls yesterday...another good friend Ben Mangina reached out and we chatted at great length. Ben had worked for me in Uzbekistan back in 2002. While the US Army was busy in Afghanistan engaged in Operation Anaconda, Ben, Scott, myself and approximately 100 of our "closest Uzbek friends" were carefully and without much fanfare recovering 200+ metric tons of live anthrax from an island in the Aral Sea. We did this at the behest of the Intelligence Community and the Department of Defense so that members of Al Qaida could not use this material against the US in their perverted campaign of violence. Ben performed flawlessly during this critical operation and the relationship that developed between the three of us remains close to this day.

Ben had been trying to reach me for several weeks about opportunities overseas and although I wanted to chat with him, I still needed some time to break the news. Ben was notified on Tuesday evening and we finally discussed my condition yesterday. Ben has had heart issues in the past so the news, albeit hard to take, fell on compassionate shoulders. His next action was to call Scott who is currently deployed. Scott called a few minutes later. Suffice to say...it was an emotional time for both of us.

I have been fortunate enough to have met many great people during the course of my life...and even more so to have worked with some of them in defense of the United States. When I look back at what I have accomplished and what has been done to date some of the greatest and most rewarding experiences in my life have been with Scott by my side. These are the memories that I will never forget...and will forever hold close...as they mean so much to me...just like our friendship. It was one of those things that was never stated between the two of us...we just knew.

After talking about what has happened and the what will take place over the coming months I asked Scott a parting favor...to talk to my children after I go and let them know exactly what happened...when...and more importantly...why these critical events took place.

You see...Jake and Ian have always had some idea of my exploits based in part on passing conversation at the house...however folks like Scott...and Ben where there firsthand and can tell with riveting detail the truth from a vantage point few could ever take. It means so much to me to know that the boys will have that to look forward to...and I know Scott will not disappoint.

The true measure of a friend can not be defined simply by proximity...it is more then that. It is an emotional connection that transcends both time and place. Those of you reading this today understand this better then most...and Scott understands it fully.

Scott had discussed coming back to see me before things get bad...I told him no...there are few situations in this world that make me emotional...when Scott and I were finished with each operation and we went home...we did so with a mutual understanding that we would see each other on the next go around...the expectation of watching Scott walk away for a final time would be too much to endure...and so I live with the memory of the times, our exploits and the good we did for our country...and for me...that is enough.

Thank you my friend...for covering my "six" and being there in the end...like I said yesterday...I am forever...in your debt.

Brian