A 4th of July Special: Military Encounters

I was chatting with a friend of mine about the perceived versus actual lives of professional athletes, and she made a comment that struck me as particularly interesting. A Navy wife of 10 years, the constant packing/moving and frequently absent spouse were things she shared in common with the baseball wife. While she was making connections, I was thinking contrasts, such as her husband’s job including considerably greater personal risks than a torn labrum or strained hamstring. Not to mention, no one gets rich from their military career.

Later, I recalled my own experiences with military personnel. Way back during my college days I had a dorm-mate, our “middle-aged freshman,” who was among the last to have served in Vietnam. He was a Green Beret. He was smart, funny and a fine athlete. I recall he and several dorm guys entering an intramural rugby tournament, although their most notable accomplishment of the day was sending three team members to the student health center.

A conscientious objector at one point in his life, he tried to reconcile his change of heart by becoming a special ops medic. One quiet evening over a few beers, the two of us found ourselves immersed in a conversation about what close combat was like, . . .after your service revolver rounds had been spent. Or how it felt to have survived multiple, harrowing battlefield encounters with your best buddy, only to watch him killed by a careless (and remorseless) driver during a weekend leave in Bangkok. These were topics he’d chosen to write about for his English composition class; he seemed to realize the therapeutic value of finally processing these long-buried memories. I suspect it was also easier for him to talk about them with a woman (who did her best to not flinch), rather than the teenage guys in the dorm.

I also remember how the “GI Bill” during the 1980s and 90s offered an attractive form of financial aid for low-income students. Without the Navy, another dorm-mate of mine could not have afforded his undergraduate and medical school education. Back then, he and many other young men and women were able to fulfill their duties for the most part without enduring enemy fire or extended, overseas deployments. As we know, all of this changed on September 11, 2001.

These personal moments spent with people I like and care about got me wondering, . . .how do military families deal with a loved one getting summoned to active duty in places such as Afghanistan or Iraq? Who pays the utilities, insurance or rent while the household provider is away? What happens when a family member comes home in not-quite-one piece and unable to work? How do families cope with the ongoing trials of an “invisible injury,” such as post-concussion syndrome (PCS) or post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD)?

And so I have a favor to ask of you, dear readers, on this Day of Our Independence. Would you visit the USA Cares website today? They can use your help, whether it be in the form of goods, time or cash. Or please consider purchasing a special edition “Ordinance Bat” from iFungo; 50% of the profits go to USA Cares.

Bonus offer for Salt Lake Bees fans: Bring your iFungo Ordinance Bat receipt and show it to me at the ballpark, and I’ll throw in two Box Seat tickets ($27 value) for the July 24th Pioneer Day game/fireworks show. I’m easy enough to find—section 7, row 2, seat 8, right next to the Bees dugout.

And lastly, as you are settling onto the grass for BBQ and fireworks, or if like me you are heading to the ballpark, please take a moment to pray for the safe return of our military men and women, as well as for the health and happiness of their families. . .Your friend in baseball.