thedrifter
08-09-08, 07:32 AM
Published on Saturday, August 09, 2008.
Last modified on 8/9/2008 at 12:37 am
Injured veterans get chance to fish
By The Associated Press
ENNIS - Alroy Billiman, 28, stood at the front of a drift boat floating the upper Madison River.
With the handle of the fly-fishing rod tucked in his right armpit, he used his left hand to repeatedly pull bright-green line from the reel and create a few feet of slack.
He was right-handed, but he has learned to make do without it. He lost his right arm while serving with the U.S. Army in Iraq. He was driving when a roadside bomb exploded.
"I drove over it and it blew right underneath me," he said. "It took my arm off."
He's had to readjust his entire life.
"When I lost my arm, everything was another learning experience," he said. "But there's always a way."
He's even found a way to fly-fish. But he wouldn't have even been here if not for Warriors and Quiet Waters, a local nonprofit organization that flew Billiman and his wife here from San Diego. The foundation also flew in two Marines and another Army soldier and their spouses for five days of all-expenses-paid fly-fishing.
Since 2007, the foundation has been reaching out to soldiers injured in Iraq or Afghanistan, said retired Marine Col. Eric Hastings, board director. The foundation flew in 14 injured servicemen last year and 32 this year.
It's all an effort to give these men some peace so they can get past their injuries and start healing emotionally, Hastings said.
"On the river it's no longer, 'Woe is me,' " he said. "It's, 'Wow, look at that fish. Oh, a bald eagle.' "
In May, Tim Jeffers - a soldier who lost both legs, his right eye and a portion of his skull, whose hands were disfigured and "his entire body peppered with shrapnel" - came to the Gallatin Valley the first week of May, Hastings said.
"When two guys were lifting Tim into the seat of the boat, he said, 'Ah, it's good to be king,' " Hastings said. "Every time I think about it, it brings tears to my eyes."
Fly-fishing is also helping Billiman break out of his shell.
"It's relaxing," he said. "You can get your mind off everything."
A few minutes later, the boat came out of the shadow of a thicket. On the right bank, a field of tall yellow grass extended for miles to the base of a hazy mountain range. A V-formation of black wing-tipped pelicans flew in the bluest part of the sky.
Warriors and Quiet Waters only recently started including spouses, inspired by a comment from Josh Cope, 25, at the end of his May 2008 trip about how spouses are an essential part of a soldier's recovery.
Cope - who lost both legs above the knees due to a roadside bomb in Iraq - pulled Hastings aside at one point and showed him cell phone pictures of his wife and children.
"He said, 'I can't figure out why she's still with me,' " Hastings said.
Cope returned this week, this time with his wife. On Saturday, the women enjoyed a day of spa treatments while the men fished, but most of the time they're together, reconnecting, Hastings said.
It's hard to make a military marriage work, let alone having to deal with the complications of injury, he said.
"Fifty percent of the enlisted forces are married very young and married under difficult circumstances, sometimes on a whim," he said.
Victor and Annaca Quinones were married just months before he was deployed for three years in Iraq. The Marine survived a few roadside bombs, but the last one broke his back, threw shrapnel into his legs and caused brain damage.
"She's raising a 16-year-old son and 11-year-old daughter and working while he's recovering alone in a barracks," Hastings said. "It's going to fail without some special intervention."
The two were here this week, and Hastings' wife, Jean, said Annaca Quinones told her something a few nights ago.
"She said, 'This is our honeymoon. We never had a honeymoon,' " Jean Hastings said.
"Last night, they were all over each other," Eric Hastings said.
Ellie
Last modified on 8/9/2008 at 12:37 am
Injured veterans get chance to fish
By The Associated Press
ENNIS - Alroy Billiman, 28, stood at the front of a drift boat floating the upper Madison River.
With the handle of the fly-fishing rod tucked in his right armpit, he used his left hand to repeatedly pull bright-green line from the reel and create a few feet of slack.
He was right-handed, but he has learned to make do without it. He lost his right arm while serving with the U.S. Army in Iraq. He was driving when a roadside bomb exploded.
"I drove over it and it blew right underneath me," he said. "It took my arm off."
He's had to readjust his entire life.
"When I lost my arm, everything was another learning experience," he said. "But there's always a way."
He's even found a way to fly-fish. But he wouldn't have even been here if not for Warriors and Quiet Waters, a local nonprofit organization that flew Billiman and his wife here from San Diego. The foundation also flew in two Marines and another Army soldier and their spouses for five days of all-expenses-paid fly-fishing.
Since 2007, the foundation has been reaching out to soldiers injured in Iraq or Afghanistan, said retired Marine Col. Eric Hastings, board director. The foundation flew in 14 injured servicemen last year and 32 this year.
It's all an effort to give these men some peace so they can get past their injuries and start healing emotionally, Hastings said.
"On the river it's no longer, 'Woe is me,' " he said. "It's, 'Wow, look at that fish. Oh, a bald eagle.' "
In May, Tim Jeffers - a soldier who lost both legs, his right eye and a portion of his skull, whose hands were disfigured and "his entire body peppered with shrapnel" - came to the Gallatin Valley the first week of May, Hastings said.
"When two guys were lifting Tim into the seat of the boat, he said, 'Ah, it's good to be king,' " Hastings said. "Every time I think about it, it brings tears to my eyes."
Fly-fishing is also helping Billiman break out of his shell.
"It's relaxing," he said. "You can get your mind off everything."
A few minutes later, the boat came out of the shadow of a thicket. On the right bank, a field of tall yellow grass extended for miles to the base of a hazy mountain range. A V-formation of black wing-tipped pelicans flew in the bluest part of the sky.
Warriors and Quiet Waters only recently started including spouses, inspired by a comment from Josh Cope, 25, at the end of his May 2008 trip about how spouses are an essential part of a soldier's recovery.
Cope - who lost both legs above the knees due to a roadside bomb in Iraq - pulled Hastings aside at one point and showed him cell phone pictures of his wife and children.
"He said, 'I can't figure out why she's still with me,' " Hastings said.
Cope returned this week, this time with his wife. On Saturday, the women enjoyed a day of spa treatments while the men fished, but most of the time they're together, reconnecting, Hastings said.
It's hard to make a military marriage work, let alone having to deal with the complications of injury, he said.
"Fifty percent of the enlisted forces are married very young and married under difficult circumstances, sometimes on a whim," he said.
Victor and Annaca Quinones were married just months before he was deployed for three years in Iraq. The Marine survived a few roadside bombs, but the last one broke his back, threw shrapnel into his legs and caused brain damage.
"She's raising a 16-year-old son and 11-year-old daughter and working while he's recovering alone in a barracks," Hastings said. "It's going to fail without some special intervention."
The two were here this week, and Hastings' wife, Jean, said Annaca Quinones told her something a few nights ago.
"She said, 'This is our honeymoon. We never had a honeymoon,' " Jean Hastings said.
"Last night, they were all over each other," Eric Hastings said.
Ellie