thedrifter
05-04-08, 09:00 PM
IRAQ: Relief, then guilt
Without a draft these last three decades, it's doubtful that many civilian families know what it's like for military families as the U.S. engages in prolonged wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
What it's like for months and months to worry that every knock on the door might bring the news that your loved one has been killed. Or what it's like to know that something has gone wrong but not to know whether your kin is dead or alive.
The Merrell family of Sisters, Ore., knows both scenarios.
Marine Sgt. Jacob Merrell, 22, is a crew chief in a helicopter squadron. In December 2006, one of the helicopters crashed into the massive reservoir behind the Haditha Dam in Iraq. Four Marines were killed.
Carla and Bruce Merrell didn't know whether it was their son's helicopter or, if it was, whether he survived. By policy, whenever there is a fatality, the Marines shut down e-mail and telephones to prevent the spread of misinformation.
For two days the Merrells waited in agony. Finally, Carla got a phone call from their son. It hadn't been his helicopter.
"It was just a flood of emotion knowing he was OK," Carla Merrell said. "Then I got calm and a sense of guilt came over me. I felt bad. My son was alive but I knew that other people's sons were dead."
On Sunday, Carla and Bruce Merrell, their daughter Faith Moots and her husband Chris Moots were at the 32nd Street Naval Station as Sgt. Merrell departed with the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit.
The Marines might go to Iraq or Afghanistan or do a six-month training mission in the Western Pacific and Persian Gulf. At home, the Merrells, along with the families of 5,500 other Marines and sailors, will wait and worry.
—Tony Perry, in San Diego
Ellie
Without a draft these last three decades, it's doubtful that many civilian families know what it's like for military families as the U.S. engages in prolonged wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
What it's like for months and months to worry that every knock on the door might bring the news that your loved one has been killed. Or what it's like to know that something has gone wrong but not to know whether your kin is dead or alive.
The Merrell family of Sisters, Ore., knows both scenarios.
Marine Sgt. Jacob Merrell, 22, is a crew chief in a helicopter squadron. In December 2006, one of the helicopters crashed into the massive reservoir behind the Haditha Dam in Iraq. Four Marines were killed.
Carla and Bruce Merrell didn't know whether it was their son's helicopter or, if it was, whether he survived. By policy, whenever there is a fatality, the Marines shut down e-mail and telephones to prevent the spread of misinformation.
For two days the Merrells waited in agony. Finally, Carla got a phone call from their son. It hadn't been his helicopter.
"It was just a flood of emotion knowing he was OK," Carla Merrell said. "Then I got calm and a sense of guilt came over me. I felt bad. My son was alive but I knew that other people's sons were dead."
On Sunday, Carla and Bruce Merrell, their daughter Faith Moots and her husband Chris Moots were at the 32nd Street Naval Station as Sgt. Merrell departed with the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit.
The Marines might go to Iraq or Afghanistan or do a six-month training mission in the Western Pacific and Persian Gulf. At home, the Merrells, along with the families of 5,500 other Marines and sailors, will wait and worry.
—Tony Perry, in San Diego
Ellie