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The Department of Defense has produced a comprehensive handbook describing compensation and other benefits service members and their families would be entitled to upon separation or retirement as a result of serious injury or illness. The handbook was compiled in cooperation with the departments of Veterans Affairs, Labor, Health and Human Services, and Education, and the Social Security Administration, according to the news release. There are also references to assistance provided by other governmental and nongovernmental agencies and organizations. The electronic version of the handbook will be updated frequently and the hard copy of the compensation and benefits handbook will be updated annually. The electronic version of the handbook can be found at any of the following:
http://turbotap.org
http://www.npc.navy.mil
https://www.aw2.army.mil
https://www.my.af.mil/gcss-af/USAF/AFP40/d/1073755231/Files/C&BHandbook
In my life I've had the opportunity to watch many sorts of conflicts, both small and large, from two or three people arguing over a seemingly trivial matter, to world powers arguing over nuclear proliferation, to conflicts between nations, including our own, that grow into full military engagement. Through them all, I've had the luxury of observing them from afar, usually making some sort of judgment as to who is right and who is wrong, but from a comfortable distance. This essay is not about world conflict on a global scale; it is about conflict at the micro level. To describe as best as I can, what it is like for the people who hold the honor of being parents to the men and women who don't talk about the world's problems, they go solve them. To describe what it's like to be the proud parents of a U.S. Marine.
It is a well known fact that one's perspective changes depending on their personal involvement in the issue; when you have, as they say, "skin in the game". When Brad called me in the spring of 2006 to tell me that he signed an intention to join the Marine Corps, I almost burst with pride. He had actually been listening all those years when I talked about things like achievement, hard work, and making a diifference. In one quick sentence, he proved it. "I joined the Marines Dad." Over the next several months while Brad was preparing his body, Debbie and I were preparing our souls. Like it or not, Brad was becoming a Marine, and Marines go to war.
Gradually we grew to know other parents who also have children in the Marine Corps, as well as meeting many current and former Marines (I know, there are no ex-Marines) and began learning the never ending language of acronyms and alternate verbiage such as portal for door and cover for hat. As the son of a sailor, I was already somewhat familiar with military family life, but this was different. Marine families are tight with each other, and passionate about the work their family members do. We learned about the process of boot camp and what to expect when your child finishes with it, and what graduation day will be like, but none of it prepares you for what you actually see. I watched Brad leave for Parris Island as an insecure adolescent, and met him again on April 11, 2007 as a fully matured, self confident man. As we walked together from the parade grounds to his barracks to retreive his things, it struck me that our relationship had just evolved from parent-child to a much more complex one, in less than a 2-mile walk. He'd done it. He'd grown up, and my job had shifted. I was now there to cover his back while he covered the rest of ours; and to be his friend.
The next step was that he reported to Camp Lejuene for Infantry School, and then to his more permanent position as a SAW operator for the 2nd LAR (more acronyms), and this gave us a few months to come to grips emotionally with what was about to happen. He was going to Iraq, and to war. We got frequent phone calls to talk about what his training was like, discussed his finances, we made arrangements for vacations. He had a couple of block leaves, so he came to Columbus for a couple short trips, like Christmas. Well, almost Christmas. We had Christmas the week after Christmas because of a unique timekeeping system that's used in the military that seems to have little relationship to standard calendars. In January, he headed out to California for desert training and then one quick trip to Columbus before heading back to Lejuene for final deployment preparations.
March 18, 2008 was a day like every other day but for one thing. I was scared. Really scared. Brad was deploying that afternoon. I tied a small yellow ribbon around the tree out front, and tried to go about my day, but the fear was there no matter what I did. I tried not to show it because I knew that Debbie was having an even tougher time with this than I am, and I didn't want her to think anything was unusual. I didn't want her wondering why I was afraid; or thinking that I knew something she didn't. Brad called two or three times that day, and even had his picture taken by some supporters in Maine which they sent to us, but then he was gone and we wouldn't hear from him again for a few days. Once in Kuwait, we got the call from him to let us know that he was there safely and would soon be heading into Iraq on a helicopter, and we probably wouldn't hear from him for a week or so. I think the few days between Kuwait and Iraq were some of the worst. This is the period where I really started to adjust to deployment. Wondering how and how often we would be able to communicate, wondering if he had everything he needed, jumping every time an unfamiliar car drove down our street, hoping that they would drive past.
Then, in mid-April, while driving in my car, the words that every military parent dreads to hear came across the radio. "Central Oho Marine killed in Iraq." My stomach flew into my throat and I nearly threw up. That sentence and the events of the next several hours define for me what it's like to be the parent of a Marine. The rest of the day was spent in abject terror, waiting for the Department of Defense to release the name of the Marine. My mind was consumed with trying to put together pieces of the puzzle. "Brad called yesterday from Korean Village, 150 miles away from the suicide attack, is it possible that he could have made the trip to that area since the call or is he probably still at KV?; Possible, but not likely, I decided. It didn't help. "Brad enlisted in Pennsylvania, while staying with his uncle, is it possible that they still have that as his address? No, I changed his permanent address to Columbus several months ago. "Why aren't they releasing the name? I knew the answer to that one already of course; we were waiting for next of kin to be notified. I also prayed that no strange cars would make their way into the neighborhood that day. Please God, no dress blues today. Finally the DOD posted the names on their website of the Central Ohio Marine and two others who had been killed with him by a suicide bomber. I stared at the short list for what seemed like an eternity. Brad's name wasn't on the list. What do you do with that information? What is the proper emotion to feel when you're relieved that your child is alive, but someone else's is not? I cried...hard. Afterwards, I tucked the emotions away as deep as I could into my soul, then prayed again. This time for the fallen Marines and their families, who I would never meet, but with whom I have so much in common; and then I began to prepare myself for the next time this would happen, because it will. That, I think is the essence of having a child at war. All the world's conflicts and difficulties are reduced to their most basic element with two words: "Marine Killed..." That is what it's like to be the proud parent of a United States Marine.
After writing this essay, which was originally intended to give a sense of what it is like to be a military parent to someone who is not, I was asked if I could expand on it a little for families who are new to having a child make the decision to join the military, or even those who are a bit more "old hat" as to how I try to deal with things on a day to day basis while my son is deployed. I can only speak from personal experience, and even some of the things that are hellpful to me are not helpful to my wife. Different people deal with stress in different ways, and I think that the most important thing that I can do is try to recognize that and be respectful of it. My wife also has a child at war, and my two other children have a brother at war, and it affects them all differently Talking about it openly is important, but recognizing the different ways we cope with it, I think is the key. My wife doesn't like war movies right now and I do, for instance. So I try to turn them off if she's around. I'm not perfect, but I try.
The next most important thing to do, I think is to really try and understand your Marine. He or she had a reason for enlisting and it's probably deeper than you think. They may not even have discussed it before, but it's there. Understanding their motivation is a big part to developing a deep and permanent relationship with them. They have taken the first step on a major journey in their life, and you have been invited. You may need to spend some time looking at things through your child's eyes. They are also forging bonds right now that you will never fully be a part of and that will outlive you. "Once a Marine, Always a Marine" is not a catchy statement, it's for real. You don't need to feel threatened by that, just know that it's there. I stated earlier that the Marine family is tight and I would urge you to take advantage of the support that is available. All Marines and their families, past or present, are considered to be part of this family. That's part that you can share, and it is an amazing family. Any Marine or Marine parent will answer just about any question that you can ask, openly and honestly. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had in parking lots and shopping centers with total strangers who wore veteran hats or t-shirts.
Get involved! One of my favorite activities in the world right now is going to MCFSC HQ on the Wednesday night before packing night and getting items ready for Friday's big night. I always think of The Waltons and how that community came together to help each other during the dark days of World War II. Okay, that's fiction, but I've spent enough time talking to my grandparents to know that's what happened in real life too. Guess what?! It's still happening and we need people to help If you really want to help your Marine, help other Marines. He or she has a bond with them, remember? There is plenty of stuff that needs to be done, and all you need to do is ask. You'll feel better, trust me. I also like to get really involved in my Marine's personal affairs as much as I can. I manage his finances and bills for instance. When he mentions he needs gloves or a K-Bar, I just go buy it. He got dress blues for his birthday, stuff like that. They have enough to worry about and they don't make much money, so it's one more item off his plate. I also call his girlfriend and check in on her from time to time. She's a part of the family too, and she needs to feel as welcome in my home as Brad.
Learn the language. MOS, MEU, LES, E-3 and MCMAP--what does it all mean? Where is Lejuene, Pendleton or Korean Village? Why can't I say Hat; and when the hell is 1315? Marines, as a rule, do NOT speak English. Most of the time, they don't even speak words. They speak in acronyms and codes when they're really happy, they grunt and make a sound like Ooh-Rah! The more you learn, the more fun you'll have in your new family. Yes we have fun. We're all carrying a heavy load, but as a group, we can handle it and even let our hair down a little. Just don't let Roger near a Kareoke machine!
Be proud. Be very proud. There aren't too many kids who have the courage to do what your Marine is doing. "The Few, The Proud" is another one of those catchy slogans that actually isn't just a catchy slogan. They are serious about that, and you should share that pride. The history of human beings has been one bad guy after another. My grandparents had the Kaiser and Hitler. My parents had Hitler and Stalin, we grew up under the threat of nuclear holocaust, and our kids have terrorism. The cycle just keeps repeating, evil rises, evil is conquered, and it is unlikely to ever stop. But, thanks to your child, it it unlikely to come HERE!
Sponsors WWII veterans with trips to see the National WWI Memorial in Washington D.C.
The Department of Defense has produced a comprehensive handbook describing compensation and other benefits service members and their families would be entitled to upon separation or retirement as a result of serious injury or illness. The handbook was compiled in cooperation with the departments of Veterans Affairs, Labor, Health and Human Services, and Education, and the Social Security Administration, according to the news release. There are also references to assistance provided by other governmental and nongovernmental agencies and organizations. The electronic version of the handbook will be updated frequently and the hard copy of the compensation and benefits handbook will be updated annually. The electronic version of the handbook can be found at any of the following:
http://turbotap.org
http://www.npc.navy.mil
https://www.aw2.army.mil
https://www.my.af.mil/gcss-af/USAF/AFP40/d/1073755231/Files/C&BHandbook
MCFSC
Pays Tribute to Marine Dads
Father's Day 2008
By Charlie Carter
Father's Day 2008
By Charlie Carter
In my life I've had the opportunity to watch many sorts of conflicts, both small and large, from two or three people arguing over a seemingly trivial matter, to world powers arguing over nuclear proliferation, to conflicts between nations, including our own, that grow into full military engagement. Through them all, I've had the luxury of observing them from afar, usually making some sort of judgment as to who is right and who is wrong, but from a comfortable distance. This essay is not about world conflict on a global scale; it is about conflict at the micro level. To describe as best as I can, what it is like for the people who hold the honor of being parents to the men and women who don't talk about the world's problems, they go solve them. To describe what it's like to be the proud parents of a U.S. Marine.
It is a well known fact that one's perspective changes depending on their personal involvement in the issue; when you have, as they say, "skin in the game". When Brad called me in the spring of 2006 to tell me that he signed an intention to join the Marine Corps, I almost burst with pride. He had actually been listening all those years when I talked about things like achievement, hard work, and making a diifference. In one quick sentence, he proved it. "I joined the Marines Dad." Over the next several months while Brad was preparing his body, Debbie and I were preparing our souls. Like it or not, Brad was becoming a Marine, and Marines go to war.
Gradually we grew to know other parents who also have children in the Marine Corps, as well as meeting many current and former Marines (I know, there are no ex-Marines) and began learning the never ending language of acronyms and alternate verbiage such as portal for door and cover for hat. As the son of a sailor, I was already somewhat familiar with military family life, but this was different. Marine families are tight with each other, and passionate about the work their family members do. We learned about the process of boot camp and what to expect when your child finishes with it, and what graduation day will be like, but none of it prepares you for what you actually see. I watched Brad leave for Parris Island as an insecure adolescent, and met him again on April 11, 2007 as a fully matured, self confident man. As we walked together from the parade grounds to his barracks to retreive his things, it struck me that our relationship had just evolved from parent-child to a much more complex one, in less than a 2-mile walk. He'd done it. He'd grown up, and my job had shifted. I was now there to cover his back while he covered the rest of ours; and to be his friend.
The next step was that he reported to Camp Lejuene for Infantry School, and then to his more permanent position as a SAW operator for the 2nd LAR (more acronyms), and this gave us a few months to come to grips emotionally with what was about to happen. He was going to Iraq, and to war. We got frequent phone calls to talk about what his training was like, discussed his finances, we made arrangements for vacations. He had a couple of block leaves, so he came to Columbus for a couple short trips, like Christmas. Well, almost Christmas. We had Christmas the week after Christmas because of a unique timekeeping system that's used in the military that seems to have little relationship to standard calendars. In January, he headed out to California for desert training and then one quick trip to Columbus before heading back to Lejuene for final deployment preparations.
March 18, 2008 was a day like every other day but for one thing. I was scared. Really scared. Brad was deploying that afternoon. I tied a small yellow ribbon around the tree out front, and tried to go about my day, but the fear was there no matter what I did. I tried not to show it because I knew that Debbie was having an even tougher time with this than I am, and I didn't want her to think anything was unusual. I didn't want her wondering why I was afraid; or thinking that I knew something she didn't. Brad called two or three times that day, and even had his picture taken by some supporters in Maine which they sent to us, but then he was gone and we wouldn't hear from him again for a few days. Once in Kuwait, we got the call from him to let us know that he was there safely and would soon be heading into Iraq on a helicopter, and we probably wouldn't hear from him for a week or so. I think the few days between Kuwait and Iraq were some of the worst. This is the period where I really started to adjust to deployment. Wondering how and how often we would be able to communicate, wondering if he had everything he needed, jumping every time an unfamiliar car drove down our street, hoping that they would drive past.
Then, in mid-April, while driving in my car, the words that every military parent dreads to hear came across the radio. "Central Oho Marine killed in Iraq." My stomach flew into my throat and I nearly threw up. That sentence and the events of the next several hours define for me what it's like to be the parent of a Marine. The rest of the day was spent in abject terror, waiting for the Department of Defense to release the name of the Marine. My mind was consumed with trying to put together pieces of the puzzle. "Brad called yesterday from Korean Village, 150 miles away from the suicide attack, is it possible that he could have made the trip to that area since the call or is he probably still at KV?; Possible, but not likely, I decided. It didn't help. "Brad enlisted in Pennsylvania, while staying with his uncle, is it possible that they still have that as his address? No, I changed his permanent address to Columbus several months ago. "Why aren't they releasing the name? I knew the answer to that one already of course; we were waiting for next of kin to be notified. I also prayed that no strange cars would make their way into the neighborhood that day. Please God, no dress blues today. Finally the DOD posted the names on their website of the Central Ohio Marine and two others who had been killed with him by a suicide bomber. I stared at the short list for what seemed like an eternity. Brad's name wasn't on the list. What do you do with that information? What is the proper emotion to feel when you're relieved that your child is alive, but someone else's is not? I cried...hard. Afterwards, I tucked the emotions away as deep as I could into my soul, then prayed again. This time for the fallen Marines and their families, who I would never meet, but with whom I have so much in common; and then I began to prepare myself for the next time this would happen, because it will. That, I think is the essence of having a child at war. All the world's conflicts and difficulties are reduced to their most basic element with two words: "Marine Killed..." That is what it's like to be the proud parent of a United States Marine.
After writing this essay, which was originally intended to give a sense of what it is like to be a military parent to someone who is not, I was asked if I could expand on it a little for families who are new to having a child make the decision to join the military, or even those who are a bit more "old hat" as to how I try to deal with things on a day to day basis while my son is deployed. I can only speak from personal experience, and even some of the things that are hellpful to me are not helpful to my wife. Different people deal with stress in different ways, and I think that the most important thing that I can do is try to recognize that and be respectful of it. My wife also has a child at war, and my two other children have a brother at war, and it affects them all differently Talking about it openly is important, but recognizing the different ways we cope with it, I think is the key. My wife doesn't like war movies right now and I do, for instance. So I try to turn them off if she's around. I'm not perfect, but I try.
The next most important thing to do, I think is to really try and understand your Marine. He or she had a reason for enlisting and it's probably deeper than you think. They may not even have discussed it before, but it's there. Understanding their motivation is a big part to developing a deep and permanent relationship with them. They have taken the first step on a major journey in their life, and you have been invited. You may need to spend some time looking at things through your child's eyes. They are also forging bonds right now that you will never fully be a part of and that will outlive you. "Once a Marine, Always a Marine" is not a catchy statement, it's for real. You don't need to feel threatened by that, just know that it's there. I stated earlier that the Marine family is tight and I would urge you to take advantage of the support that is available. All Marines and their families, past or present, are considered to be part of this family. That's part that you can share, and it is an amazing family. Any Marine or Marine parent will answer just about any question that you can ask, openly and honestly. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had in parking lots and shopping centers with total strangers who wore veteran hats or t-shirts.
Get involved! One of my favorite activities in the world right now is going to MCFSC HQ on the Wednesday night before packing night and getting items ready for Friday's big night. I always think of The Waltons and how that community came together to help each other during the dark days of World War II. Okay, that's fiction, but I've spent enough time talking to my grandparents to know that's what happened in real life too. Guess what?! It's still happening and we need people to help If you really want to help your Marine, help other Marines. He or she has a bond with them, remember? There is plenty of stuff that needs to be done, and all you need to do is ask. You'll feel better, trust me. I also like to get really involved in my Marine's personal affairs as much as I can. I manage his finances and bills for instance. When he mentions he needs gloves or a K-Bar, I just go buy it. He got dress blues for his birthday, stuff like that. They have enough to worry about and they don't make much money, so it's one more item off his plate. I also call his girlfriend and check in on her from time to time. She's a part of the family too, and she needs to feel as welcome in my home as Brad.
Learn the language. MOS, MEU, LES, E-3 and MCMAP--what does it all mean? Where is Lejuene, Pendleton or Korean Village? Why can't I say Hat; and when the hell is 1315? Marines, as a rule, do NOT speak English. Most of the time, they don't even speak words. They speak in acronyms and codes when they're really happy, they grunt and make a sound like Ooh-Rah! The more you learn, the more fun you'll have in your new family. Yes we have fun. We're all carrying a heavy load, but as a group, we can handle it and even let our hair down a little. Just don't let Roger near a Kareoke machine!
Be proud. Be very proud. There aren't too many kids who have the courage to do what your Marine is doing. "The Few, The Proud" is another one of those catchy slogans that actually isn't just a catchy slogan. They are serious about that, and you should share that pride. The history of human beings has been one bad guy after another. My grandparents had the Kaiser and Hitler. My parents had Hitler and Stalin, we grew up under the threat of nuclear holocaust, and our kids have terrorism. The cycle just keeps repeating, evil rises, evil is conquered, and it is unlikely to ever stop. But, thanks to your child, it it unlikely to come HERE!
SLEEP WELL AMERICA, OUR
MARINES HAVE YOUR BACK