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Friday, December 22, 2006
Kathleen Parker :: Townhall.com Columnist
They call it 'Semper Fi'
by Kathleen Parker
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WASHINGTON -- It all started with a Marine major general's widow, who wanted to donate her wheelchair to a Marine who needed it.

What would seem to have been a simple request became a daunting task. There were bureaucracies to navigate, regulations to untangle, privacy acts to plow through, and logistics to manage.

Leave it to the Marines to get the job done.

The wheelchair at the heart of this story came to my attention the day after Thanksgiving, when John Palermo, senior vice commandant of the Marine Corps League in Tamarac, Fla., e-mailed me for help finding a needy Marine. Palermo already had been storing the chair for three months and was bumping into military privacy restrictions that prevented his finding a recipient.

The chair had belonged to Jane Hanson, widow of Maj. Gen. Arthur Briggs Hanson. She wasn't using the chair and wanted to honor her husband by giving it to a fellow Marine. It wasn't any ordinary wheelchair, but a new Shoprider Medical Power electric model worth several thousand dollars.

Palermo's e-mail set in motion a search that has involved dozens of people, mostly Marines, and a series of frustrating fits and starts that would prompt most to surrender. There's no shortage of needy Marines returning from Iraq minus limbs, but military rules made it nearly impossible to get a name.

Moreover, the Veterans Administration, it turns out, does a pretty good job of taking care of the wounded. Most have wheelchairs and prosthetics made to order, though I've learned during ``Operation Wheelchair,'' as this effort came to be called, that the list of back-ordered prosthetics is long.

Cutting to the chase, I forwarded Palermo's e-mail to Russ Clark, about whom I've written before. Clark is a minister and former Marine who counsels veterans through Point Man International Ministries in Columbus, Ohio. He went to work.

For the next five weeks, Clark sent me periodic updates on what was beginning to seem like a futile search. Every day, he was getting closer, but then he'd hit a snag.

E-mails and phone calls crossed the country several times. I can't list the names of all who worked on this project, but the search eventually landed at Naval Medical Center San Diego (better known to veterans as Balboa Hospital), where a new amputee clinic recently opened.

The only one of its kind on the West Coast, the clinic is expected to serve about 50 amputees per year. The week before Christmas, recent arrivals included ``a new quad.''

That chilling phrase -- ``a new quad'' -- doesn't roll easily off the tongue, but Richard Williams has learned to say it without flinching. An attorney and former Marine, Williams coordinates the Marine Corps League-Injured Marine Fund in San Diego.

Amputees are part of his life. Continued...

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About The Author
Kathleen Parker is a syndicated columnist with the Washington Post Writers Group.
 
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Subject: this moment
We train hard for this moment
Endure our hellish weeks
Repetition becomes our friend
Strangers now our…lifeline
They are our family now
Brother from another mother
Together we continue to train for…
This moment
Pack our bags with essentials
Before we depart...
We reassure our loving families
Don our helmet, armor, holster and sling
We travel, we wait, and we endure
Endure our hellish months
Hustle, move, quick turn
Backs ache…legs and arms burn
Suck it up and control the pain
Gone is the smell of cologne
The only scent in the air is…
Sweat
And
Gun Oil…
It's damn hot…so f’ing hot
You think you know hot…
Opening the oven door doesn't compare
Seared lungs…tearing eyes
Stinging sand…raging wind
And we continue to train for…
This moment
Hellish months turn to year
Canteen water tastes old…
But at least it's wet
Hope the chow is good…
Thank you GOD for the MRE
Dig a hole to sleep
Just not too deep
Gone is music…faded long ago
The only sound in the air is
Gunfire
And
Screams…
Gone is dance…can't remember steps
Writhing bodies in pain dance with death
Lost are…
Innocence
Minds
Limbs
Wrap
And
Press
Blood
Sweat
And
Tears
Mingle
Curse and Yell
F’ing gun
Yell and Curse
Them
And
No one
Reload
Take aim
Pink mist
And later clean
Clean, Clean
Clutching tight to
Faith
Hope
We continue to endure
Bonds are formed
New family throws a lifeline
Try to find laughter
But smiles can't reach soulful eyes
Harsh memories are held there
Return home…
What was once funny…
Isn't really…not anymore
Like an inside joke
Guess you had to be there…
Debrief and brief
Fill out tons of forms
Lack of
Sleep
And
Frustration
Pushed to the limits
Suck it up and carry on...
Tests and observation
Reconstitute and recover
Maybe take some leave
Returned empty…
Back to loved ones
Who thought they understood…
Including those who had already served
Can only offer hugs and cheers
Much later…kisses and tears
No guarantees that this will work
Pain and more still lingers there…
Only one thing is for sure
There is a do over…
In the not so distant future
We train hard for that moment…
And endure…
Brothers In Arms

Semper Fi

Thank God
Thank God that these young men (and women) are among us today to give us protection from those who would do us harm. There's nothing that we don't owe them, as individuals and as a nation. I wish that I had Bill Gates' resources to give them the best possible rest of their lives. God bless them all. I can barely type through my tears.
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