It is an unfortunate fact of life that sometimes tragedy strikes – and those of us in the military are no exception to that. Each of us faces this possibility. It’s not an easy thing to deal with – and some of us take it harder than others. Some tragedies are harder to face than others, too.
The military has in place a system for notifying its members when a tragedy has struck. The American Red Cross has an Emergency Communications Services program (go to http://www.redcross.org and select the “Military Members and Families” option in the services menu, then select the “Emergency communication Services” option if you are curious about it) to allow our family to notify us when there are occasions of severe illness or death occurs in our immediate family – whether the ship is underway, overseas, or in homeport. All the family need do is contact a local office with our information, and the local office contacts our command. Our command then notifies us. Usually, if during working hours, the Command Officer takes it upon himself to break the news. If after working hours, the Command Duty Officer has this responsibility.
(Something I feel moved to explain is the concept, “immediate family”. This consists of one’s parents, siblings, spouse, and/or child(ren). Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews aren’t immediate family, however loved they may be - unless they had been the primary caregiver during one’s growing years. It’s kinda hard – but it was necessary to draw a line somewhere for these situations.)
After the breaking of the news, we have the option of talking with a chaplain – either the one assigned to the command (if the command is big enough to warrant one), or one assigned to the area or Squadron. My previous ship was a cruiser, and large enough to have a chaplain assigned - my current ship is smaller, and has no chaplain – so we rely upon the Squadron Chaplain.
Chaplains are just one of the available resources – however, no one is forced to talk with one. One may decide that they are more comfortable talking with their own Reverend/Rabbi/Priest, and can do so. One also has the option of talking with a counselor at the Fleet Friends and Family Support Center. One also has the option of not talking with anyone at all.
If the mission can support it, arrangements are made for the member to take emergency leave. While deployed last year, we had several unfortunate occurrences that required making arrangements to get a member of our crew flown back stateside. If it’s necessary, the member can apply to the Navy and Marines Corps Relief Society, or the American Red Cross, for financial assistance to get home (and back) to be with the family. While there are no guarantees, I cannot think of a time in my experience where a military member was unable to gain assistance in this time of need.
I said at the beginning that the title Rod chose for this series was appropriate. This has become a diary (or report) on things that I’ve done this past year or so. So, in that light, I decided it would be appropriate to share my tragedy. Most of the regular members of the US Military forum (if you’d like to join us, the link is at the top of the page “Forums”, or http://usmilitary.about.com/mpboards.htm) know of this, and have been very supportive.
On 22 September 2003, I had gone to Sewells Point Branch Medical Clinic, for my first screening for the PRK surgery (see previous articles if you’re new to this series). On my way back to the ship, I parked my vehicle and called home, and talked to my mother relating that I was a good candidate for the surgery, and caught up with the news at home. Then I walked to the ship.
Upon arrival, my Senior Chief Petty Officer met me at the brow, and asked me to hold up a minute. At that time, I thought perhaps he needed to discuss some of the message traffic we were generating (paperwork, paperwork, paperwork…) in preparation to an upcoming Anti-Submarine Warfare exercise. I was unaware that he had been watching for my return to the ship, and thought it merely coincidence. A moment later, the Command Duty Officer came out of the Officer of the Deck’s shack and told me to accompany him. As Senior Chief and I did so, I was trying to think of what I may have done to warrant such attention – I wasn’t aware that I had done anything wrong, nor that I might be needed as a witness for anything.
