Thursday, June 21, 2007

Nothing can prepare... cont'd

It's an adrenaline-pumping experience because of the high and unpredictable emotions.

"It's not like grandma or grandpa dying of cancer -- it's not like that. The majority of these soldiers haven't reached 25 yet. In the scope of things, they're babies," said Murphy.

Once notification has been made, the casualty assistance officer contacts the family within 24 hours.

The officer, who is supposed to be a sergeant first-class or higher, becomes the liaison between the Army and the family. In the midst of the ravaging of a family that occurs with every soldier's death, the officer helps take care of a chain of logistical details to begin the survivors' process of reorganizing their lives.

The first of those is the return of the remains and funeral arrangements.

A soldier is never alone after death. The body is accompanied from the place of death to the funeral home (sometimes one person does the entire trip, sometimes several are involved).

Soldiers from this area usually come through Dover Air Force Base in Delaware, generally within 10 days of death.

"The time span is longer [between death and burial]" than in a normal death, said Dziegielewski. "That is the roughest part on the family. They want to see their loved one."

Until the body is examined by the Army coroner at Dover, the casualty assistance officer won't know whether it's viewable.

The horrible damage inflicted by homemade bombs known as IEDs can mean the remains of a 6-foot-4, 280-pound soldier might be 60 pounds. Murphy and Hammons said they felt fortunate because bodies of soldiers assigned to them could be viewed.

Helping with funeral

The assistance officer goes to the funeral home and inspects the body, both to be able to prepare the family if necessary and to make sure the uniform is correct. The officer helps the family with funeral arrangements, which include soldiers who serve as pallbearers and those who serve on the firing party.

The Army pays funeral expenses up to $4,500; there is a death gratuity of $12,240 (which President Bush has proposed raising to $100,000); and life insurance up to $250,000.

The casualty assistance officer takes the brutal emotional ride with family members, often witnessing the harsh feelings and words that come out, as well as the regrets that often follow.

"I say, 'Don't ever apologize. You have a right to every emotion you could ever have,' " said Murphy.

It's tough duty.

"I didn't sleep well," during his first days as a casualty assistance officer, said Murphy. "I was a afraid I was going to miss something, forget something. It's not like you have experience to fall back on. No one can explain what it's going to be like."

He's become very close to Marcella Rae Minucci, the mother of Sgt. Joseph Minucci II, who was killed in Iraq. Though his official duties are done, the two still talk regularly.

"Once she called and just read me this letter. It was about his first combat kill. He had to explain it. I remember he wrote that with all the commotion, he could hear that man breathing, could hear that man dying. ... He needed to write to her about it. And she needed to read it to me."

Hammons said nothing can prepare a person "to come face to face with a family member the moment they lose their child."

The emotions can't help but affect the casualty officers.

"You will grieve for that individual and that family, but you have to put it off till your duty is done," said Murphy. "Sometimes it's hard to put away."



Source

2 comments:

Flag Gazer said...

A friend of ours just went through the training to do this. She is honored to be chosen, and yet, not looking forward to it. This is difficult duty and I so admire those who do it.

De'on Miller said...

I agree, FG, it has got to be some of the toughest duty. In the military, though you are trained for a specific MOS or rate, other jobs come down that must be done, i.e. drill, recruiting, and this, and I appreciate each one of them in what must be a very tough assignment. I'm glad your friend is honored. That truly means something to me.