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Dealing with being home from Kandahar

RHFC_piper

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It has been 2 month and 2 days since I deployed to Afghanistan, with 8 Platoon, Charles Company, 1 RCR.  I was honored, as a reservist augmentee, to be attached to such a great group of probably the best soldiers our country has to offer. 

In the three short weeks I was in Afghanistan, I learned more about commitment to my military family than most soldiers learn in a life time.  It seemed both unfortunate and amazing that it took battle and blood shed to forge such a strong bond.

It has been 1 month and 12 days since I was wounded and pulled from the battlefield. When I was in the hospital in KAF, I had hoped that I would stay in Afghanistan to recover.  Why would I want to stay in such a horrible place that almost claimed my life?  I didn’t want to leave my family.

Germany and Toronto (hospitals) were a blur of Morphine, Demerol, Fentanyl, IV lines, wound packing’s, shrapnel removal surgeries, catheters, bad food, and good care.  I think back on it and it seems dizzying. But when I close my eyes, only 2 images flash and they take me back to where I’m supposed to be.

I see Panjwayi; the fields of pot.  Rockets and bullets. The smell of burning and the heat.  Then all I see are the bodies of soldiers I helped carry to the CCP.  2 covered by body bags (WO. Richard Nolan, Sgt. Shane Stachnik) and 2 on stretchers; my platoon warrant (WO Frank Mellish), and a soldiers I new only casually from living in the shacks in Petawawa (Pte.Will Cushley) 

While at the CCP I find out that a very close friend (from my reserve home unit) had been wounded by shrapnel from Taliban RPGs.  His sections LAV had been left on the battlefield.  For a long while, I didn’t know how badly he was wounded. (He’s still over there, thus no names)  I’ll never forget the feeling; the sense and fear of loss. 
I will never forget those who were lost that day.

I try to think of the good times I was privileged enough to have with my Platoon. WO. Mellish made me the unofficial piper of 8 Platoon, (shortly there after; Coy piper) and I played reveille as per his request (and everyone else’s distain) anytime I was able.
In dreams I still hear him shouting “Piper!!! Black Bear!!”… The last tune I played on my pipes… at panjwayi. (I still don’t have them back)

When I close my eyes, I also see the morning after Panjwayi.  Sparks, smoke, fire… then the burp of the main gun of the A-10.  I remember the feeling of panic as I crawled for my Weapon and PPE, thinking we were under attack. I can still feel the burning on my legs and back, the shock of thinking my legs were gone.

I can see the faces of the injured… the twice wounded soldiers of Charles. I see the face of the soldier who saved my life by applying tourniquets to my legs and stopping the bleeding from my back and arm… (He will remain nameless for now)

From then, everything’s a blur until I’m back in KAF.  I remember asking if everyone was ‘ok’...  Reaching from my gurney to other wounded soldiers walking by, trying to peace together what had happened… more confusion. I asked again and again…
Pte. Mark Graham.  An inspirational man whom I only really started to get to know shortly before deploying, a brother in our family of warriors, was dead.  My heart sank even more.

Our CSM (who was also wounded) came over to me and asked if I was going to be able to play the pipes for the ramp ceremony the following day. I held up my right hand, which was numb, and looked at my fingers.  The tips of 2 of them looked like they had been chewed up in a blender.  I felt tears run down my face. Not because I thought I’d never play again, but because I couldn’t play for my departed brothers the next day… I would have given both of my hands and more for their lives.

I had hoped to attend the ramp ceremony the next day, even if I couldn’t play, but I couldn’t move my legs and they couldn’t put me in a wheel chair because of the shrapnel in my back.  I was sedated that day, and came to on the plane to Germany.

I couldn’t attend any of the funerals of my fallen family, and I feel no closure.

It has been a month and 12 days since I lost my brothers in Panjwayi and it might as well have been yesterday.

When I close my eyes at night I not only see the ones who have paid the ultimate price, but also the ones who are still there… and I feel as though I am betraying them.

My life seems to be dragging me on.  My fiancé and I are planning our wedding and future.  My family and I get together often. I’ve been able to socialize with my friends… and yet each thing I do here makes me feel guilty, because I shouldn’t be here to enjoy this.

I wake up every day and plan and plot.  I think of only one thing; how can I get back to my family… How can I get back to Afghanistan?  My wounds are almost healed.  Only 3 holes left and they’re almost closed.  I can walk pretty well now, but I need to run.

My family and friends don’t understand.  They don’t want me to go back.  My fiancé has threatened to end our relationship if I chose to return… and yet this doesn’t dissuade me. I have to get back to my boys.  I have to get back and do my part no matter the cost to me.  I love my family here in Canada, but no one’s shooting at them.

Every time I see more soldiers killed over there a piece of me dies, and I feel the urge to return grow stronger.  And each day I enjoy in my freedom here, I feel as though I have betrayed their memory.  I need to finish my job over there. I need to go back.

I can only think of the families of those who have died, and I can only say this, and hope it provides some solace:
A warrior’s sword is made from the finest steel, forged by hammer and anvil to create and edge, baptized in hot coals and flame for strength, then quenched in cold water to harden it.

Our brotherhood of Warriors, the finest of men, has been forged by Battle; Baptized by fire and Quenched by tears…

We became and will always be a fraternity of blood with a bond stronger than death.

Pro Patria

I hate to rant, but I need to vent.  It’s been a hard road, and I know there are a few others here who have seen it and may or may not feel the same (HoM).

To the mods… feel free to delete this post if you find it pointless.



- Piper
 
...anything but pointless.

Soldier, you've done your duty and now it is time to move on with your life.

" Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high."

 
Piper, reading your post I can't help but feel humbled and at the same time helpless.

I can't say "I've been there, I know what your going through," because I haven't been anywhere.
I can't say "I know what your feeling," because I have never been wounded and couldn't begin to fathom what it feels like.
I can't say "I know the love you speak of," because I have never been in a brothership forged through fire and blood.
I can't say "I know your loss," because I have never had anyone taken away from me so quick and so painfully.
And although I want say "Good job," those words imply that I have done a similar job and know what qualifies as "good." Saying it would only be a shallow fraction of my gratitude.

What can I say then? For you stand amongst the few who have been scared by war and truly understand the "feeling" of war. Any words of condolence, or encouragement  I could offer would fall miles short of the true endowment you and your brothers are owed.

All I can say is Thank you. Thank you to you and your comrades, for your hard work, your tears, your pain, your suffering, and your blood for the privilege to call myself Canadian and live in this country.
 
Hang in there mate!

You are not alone in how you feel, for battlefields are simply that. Only the technology changes. Raw emotions experienced by warriors past has not, nor will it ever change, whether it was Passchendaele in 1917, or Panjwayi in 2006.

Again Brother, you are not alone.

Stay focused! Stay strong, and keep the faith!


Wes
 
I never would have head this from the news.

You have also given me, a civilian, great insight into how the members of our military think. You will be an example if I enlist.

All the best in your recovery.
 
A simple "thank you" isn't enough.........you and all your band of brothers are in our thoughts and prayers.  We wish you a full and complete recovery and a great future.  Ubique    :salute:
 
Piper: nothing I could say would help ease the pain.  All I can do is acknowledge the sacrifice you have already done, and salute you for wanting to get back into it.

:salute:
 
Piper
God bless you and all the men and women in our military, What more can I say.....Thank you and take care of yourself. My thoughts are with you and the rest of your regiment . :salute:
 
Piper, extremely well said! :salute: Wishing you a speedy and complete recovery, as well as all the other troops. :salute:
 
Piper
Ever wonder why those guys in the Legion, Army/Navy, etc are able to recollect every detail? Because, like you, they have see the elephant, and they are changed forever. They will never forget, nor will you. You have done your duty, and will continue to in many ways, even if you never set foot in Afghanistan again. You will tell your story. Don't stop, we (the collective we) need to hear from brave men who were there..

Gord
 
Piper,

Thank-you for taking the time to put this together. Your comments are very powerful, and I'm sure it was difficult to put some of the words down, but we - Army.ca, serving and former soldiers and Canadian citizens in general - certainly appreciate it. Not just the words, but the duty you have already carried out as well.

I have placed it on the front page of Army.ca, I hope that's OK.


Thank-you
Mike
 
Very well said Piper. Recovery isnt as fast as you want but its something that cannot be rushed. You are an inspiration to everyone around you. Keep the faith. :salute:
 
Anything I could say probably wouldn't quite cut it, so I'll just say Thank You.

By the same token, I've put a copy of this on my blog, though I'll remove it if you want me to--I just think it's something that should be read by as many people as possible.
 
Piper,

Like it was said, your contribution to your country is anything but pointless. I appreciate that you took the time to share your story with us, especially those of us in the civilian world. If it's okay, I would like to share your story with my students...I always try to bring them the reality of the world around them. I hope you have a speedy recovery and all the best.  :salute:

Dave
 
Piper,
you have done more for your country than most of its population will do in their lives.
You have risked more for the good of mankind than most people will risk in their lives.

and...what everyone else said +2 (you made 9'erDomestic cry)

Speedy recovery mate!
 
"Piper"

I'm not one to tear up, but after reading your post i had tears in my eyes, so did my "niner".

My family and I wish you a speedy recovery and would like to say a heartfelt "THANK YOU" for keeping us safe here at home.

You should be proud because you served your country well with both courage and honour.

Pro Patria my friend

 
Thanks for that post.  As a piper, I understand the emotion that you underwent in not being able to play for your comrades.  I hope that you are able to play again soon for happier occasions.  Enjoy your time back; you've done enough.

Cheers
 
Piper - very well written, thanks for sharing - you sure now how to get a guy choked up.

:salute:
 
First and above all, thank you.  Those two little words don't even begin to say it, but those are the only words that come to mind.

My boyfriend is currently serving in Afghanistan.  I never understood the "I have to go" until now, until I read your post.

You and all your family (both blood and military) are in my thoughts.
 
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