The NFO's commanding officer made mention to him the next day following his winging ceremony that when he went through S.E.R.E. it the easiest portion of the time for him was waking up in frozen conditions and attempting to break ice with a knife to get himself some usable hydration.
My friend the NFO has known for some time that this period of his training was coming. I had hoped with great earnestness for his part that it would have already happened prior to his winging and that our time together would be one of great celebration of his accomplishment. It still was, but as the marine and navy officer conversed there was a sense that this excruciating portion of his training was drawing near, and there was a sobriety about it all that struck fear in the rest of the observers.
The Naval Flight Officer has to experience S.E.R.E. in order to be fully ready to face the possibility that he will be downed behind enemy lines, that he will be required to undergo this entire routine (complete with torture) again in the future. As an NFO it is something that is required for him to experience.
For the marine that was with us, who had enlisted out of high school and already served tours with distinction, he too had heard stories of the difficulties of the S.E.R.E. program. He too sensed the impending pain, stress, and anxiety that his life long friend was about to undergo. But for the position he held in the Marine Corp. he had never been assigned to go through S.E.R.E. Though he did attempt to soften the blow by mentioning the possibility of groups not getting captured. (One of these urban legends involved Navy Seals that worked together so well they were able to out fox the SERE coordinators and take over the base.)
But here's where the lump in my through nearly suffocated me.
The marine relayed (mostly to his friend) but to those of us hunched around the tiny table that he had once requested assignment to S.E.R.E.
"I asked if I could go," he said quietly.
"I knew they would probably say no. But here I was getting ready to ship to Iraq and I couldn't help but think, 'If they'd just let me go through it, at least I could know what to do and help my unit survive if we needed to as a group.' The idea being sort of that I would go through it for the rest of them."
The conversation moved to other things.
But not for me...
I was struck by the marine's simple, no-nonsense demeanor in relaying the fact that he had asked his government to torture him for the well being of the unit he would have responsibility for in what was at that time the most dangerous theater we were engaged in. He wanted to be hurt, so that he could gain the knowledge of how to save the lives of some of the men he had not yet been introduced to.
That has haunted me every night since.
On my return trip to New York because of the harsh weather I was forced to lay-over in Atlanta for a night. The next day I noticed an entire unit of soldiers hoping to get stand-by seats on the plane the airline had summoned to come get all of us who had missed our flights the day before. One of the officers in charge of these men was seated across from me in the terminal.
After a few minutes I crossed the aisle, shook his hand and asked, "You coming or going Sir?"
His reply, "Both!"
"We've been traveling en route for about 18 hours, trying to get home to New Jersey for Christmas," he answered quietly. "We return to Iraq on January 5th."
I thanked him for his service, his leadership of the fifty men and women in front of us, and the pride with which Americans who love our nation look upon them.
That is something the left does not share. They scorn their existence, mock their mission, belittle their purpose, dedication, and commitment. From John Kerry's implication that only stupid people go into the military, to members of the Congressional black caucus accusing the military of racism, to the Godless leftists and progressives who want even the mention of God removed from the winging ceremonies. Even the new President Elect recognizes that liberals can not be put in charge of our military for the sake of the country's good!
As our plane touched down at Liberty International airport in Newark three hours later, these heroes in their camis, who previously had been fairly quiet broke into cheers. Their childlike exuberance reminded the rest of us how much they truly love the nation we share.
And as my thoughts returned to my friends the marine and the NFO, I was reminded that sometimes they love it enough to suffer, even endure voluntary torture for it. I stand more grateful, more humble, more indebted, and more supportive of those who serve us all.
I only wish everyone, especially those from the left who label these men baby-killers, rapists, and murderers, knew the truth behind America's finest, bravest, and most self-sacrificial.
God Bless you soldier, sailor, and airman... wherever you spend this Christmas!
You are not forgotten.