THE POST OFFICE FLOOR©

                                                                       KIRKUK, IRAQ MARCH 2004

SOMETIMES WE DON’T KNOW WHAT FATE HOLDS FOR US.  THE FIRST DAY OF DUTY AT KIRKUK AIR BASE IN NORTHERN IRAQ INCLUDED A BRIEFING FROM THE BASE COMMANDER.  THE ROOM CAME TO ATTENTION, AND HE ENTERED WEARING DESERT CAMOFLAGE WITH AN M-9 AIR FORCE ISSUE PISTOL STRAPPED TO HIS LEG.  IT WAS THE USUAL COMMANDER PEP TALK, BUT IT ENDED WITH A STRANGE ORDER (GIVEN WE WERE UNDER CONSTANT SMALL ARMS FIRE AND ROCKET ATTACK).  HE SAID THAT THIS WAS HIS BASE, AND HE WANTED IT KEPT CLEAN.  “PICK IT UP, FIX IT OR PUT IT BACK” WAS HIS ORDER OF THE DAY.

EARLY DECEMBER FOUND AN AIRMAN FOLLOWING GOOD ADVICE…“PICK IT UP, FIX IT OR PUT IT BACK”. THE AIRMAN PICKED UP THE ENVELOPE ON THE POST OFFICE FLOOR INTENDING TO THROW IT OUT.   IT WAS COVERED WITH BOOT PRINTS, BUT THROUGH THE DESERT DUST HE NOTED THAT IT WAS A LETTER FROM SOMEONE BACK IN THE STATES.  THE ENVELPOE HAD BEEN OPENED, SO IT WAS READ A SECOND TIME BY ITS CURRENT KEEPER.  IT WAS CLEAR THAT THE PERSON WHO HAD WRITTEN THE LETTER TO “ANY SOLDIER, KIRKUK, IRAQ” HAD ALSO SENT A GIFT WITH THE LETTER. 

THOUGH THE GIFT WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT, THE AIRMAN DECIDED THIS THOUGHTFUL PERSON SHOULD BE THANKED, AND STUFFED THE NOTE IN HIS POCKET.

SOME DAYS LATTER, HE RE-DISCOVERED THE LETTER AT THE BOTTOM OF A NEVER ENDING PILE OF PAPERWORK SITTING ON THE CORNER OF HIS DESK IN THE AEROSPACE HOSPITAL UNIT.  HE RE-READ THE LETTER THAT HAD ACCOMPANIED THE GIFT AND IT SAID, IN PART, THAT SHE HOPED THE GIFT KEPT THE RECIEPIENT WARM.  THERE WAS AN E-MAIL ADDRESS INCLUDED IN THE NOTE, SO THE AIRMAN SENT A THANK YOU NOTE TO A PERSON WHO WAS KIND ENOUGH TO REMEMBER A SOLDIER AT CHRISTMAS.  HE EXPLAINED THAT HE WAS NOT A SOLDIER, BUT WAS AN AIRMAN.  NOT KNOWING WHAT THE GIFT WAS, HE SENT A LITTLE LIE OF THANKS FOR THE GIFT, AND TOLD HER THAT IT WAS WELCOME AND THAT IT WAS KEEPING HIM WARM AT NIGHT.

SUBSEQUENT CORRESPONDENCE REVEALED THAT SHE LIVED IN NEW YORK STATE AND SHE ASKED IF THERE WAS ANYTHING ELSE THAT WAS NEEDED THAT MIGHT BRING COMFORT OR RELIEF.  THE AIRMAN RESPONDED THAT THINGS WERE PRETTY WELL TAKEN CARE OF, BUT THAT FOLKS SOMETIMES GOT THE MUNCHIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, AS THE AREA THE AIRMAN WORKED IN WAS A 24 HOUR MEDICAL OPERATION.  HE WENT ON TO TELL HER THAT HIS COUSIN WAS AN EPISCOPAL PRIEST IN NEW YORK AND WAS THE BISHOP OF LONG ISLAND. 

A SMALL WORLD HE THOUGHT.

THE NEXT DAY A MESSAGE WAS ON THE COMPUTER SAYING THAT SHE, TOO, WAS A RESIDENT OF LONG ISLAND AND ASKED FOR HIS COUSIN’S NAME AND WHERE HIS CHURCH WAS LOCATED.   SHE ALSO SAID THAT SHE WOULD GET A BOX OF GOODIES IN THE MAIL, AND SHE WOULD CONTINUE TO PRAY FOR OUR SAFETY, ACKNOWLEDGING THAT WE WERE IN HARMS WAY AND THAT WE WERE DEFENDING FREEDOM AND BRINGING TYRANNY TO AN END.

THE AIRMAN EXPRESSED HIS THANKS FOR HER PRAYERS AND PROVIDED THE NAME OF HIS LONG ISLAND COUSIN LIVING IN BAY SHORE SO THEY COULD GET IN TOUCH AT SOME POINT.  AN EVEN SMALLER WORLD, HE THOUGHT.

SOME DAYS PASSED, AND ONE DAY A BOX ARRIVED.  IT WAS ADDRESSED TO THE AIRMAN AND IT WAS THE PROMISED BOX OF COMFORT FOOD.  IT WAS IMMEDIATELY PASSED AROUND IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS AFTER A BUSY NIGHT OF CASUALTIES AND DEATH.  THE RETURN ADDRES READ:  “BAY SHORE, LONG ISLAND”.  TOO MUCH OF A COINCIDENCE HE THOUGHT.  THE WORLD ISN’T THAT SMALL HE THOUGHT.

ANOTHER NOTE OF THANKS WAS IMMEADIATELY DISPATCHED TO HER, EXPRESSING THANKS FOR HER KIND ACTIONS, LETTING HER KNOW THAT ALL WAS WELL AND HER MUNCHIES WERE APPRECIATED AND SHARED.  IT WAS HOPED THAT THIS WOULD BE THE END OF WHAT SEEMED TO BE A MORE THAN UNUSUAL SET OF SERINDIPITOUS EVENTS; BEGINNING WITH A BOOT SMUDGED ENVELOPE.

AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT, HER E-MAIL RESPONSE WAS ONE OF SHOCK.

IT SEEMED THAT THIS WOMAN HAD A SON IN THE ARMY, AND HER SON HAD BEEN STATIONED IN IRAQ.  IT WAS ALSO SADLY TRUE THAT HER ONLY SON WAS KILLED ON HIS WAY BACK TO KIRKUK, AIR BASE FROM SAMARRA.  HIS VEHICLE WAS THE TARGET OF AN IED.   HER SON, PFC JACOB FLETCHER AND SGT JOSEPH MINUCCI II DIED ON HIGHWAY 1, ON 14 NOVEMBER 2003.

SHE WENT ON TO SAY HOW “DEEPLY HER HEART WAS WOUNDED”.  SHE WROTE, “I AM TRYING TO FIND FOOTING AGAIN IN THIS LIFE. I WAS SO VERY CLOSE TO MY SON.  YOU ARE ALL DOING INCREDIBLE WORK THERE AND PLEASE KNOW YOU ARE HEROES TO US ALL BACK HOME.  YOU ARE IN MY PRAYERS.” 

SHE MENTIONED THAT HER SON’S ARMY BUDDY WAS A SOLDIER BY THE NAME OF SPC CARSON PETRY, AND ASKED IF IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE TO FIND HIM.  SHE MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT A PUPPY.

A CALL WAS MADE TO MRS. FLETCHER THAT DAY AND THE AIRMAN EXPRESSED HIS SORROW AT THE LOSS OF HER SON AND TOLD HER THAT A SEARCH WOULD BE MADE FOR HER SON’S BATTLE BUDDY, BUT THERE WERE 5,000 SOLDIERS STATIONED AT KIRKUK AIR BASE AND MANY MORE THAN THAT OUT IN THE FIELD AT FOB (FORWARD OPERATING BASE) SITES.  THE ODDS WERE VERY SLIM THAT SPC PETRY COULD BE LOCATED, BUT AN ATTEMPT WOULD BE MADE.  AS FOR THE PUPPY, THE AIRMAN TOLD HER THAT MILITARY REGULATIONS DID NOT ALLOW SOLDIERS TO KEEP ANIMALS DUE TO THE POSSIBILITY OF THE SPREAD OF LICE, MANGE, DISEASE AND RABIES.  HE KNEW THIS BECAUSE HE WAS THE PUBLIC HEALTH OFFICER FOR THE BASE AND ONE OF HIS DUTIES WAS TO DESTROY STRAY DOGS, CATS AND OTHER ANIMALS.

THE NEXT DAY, THE HEALTH OFFICER WENT TO THE ARMY BATTALION AID STATION, AS PROMISED.  KNOWING THAT IT WAS A LONG SHOT, HE ASKED THE CORPSMAN IF THERE WAS ANY WAY TO FIND A SPECIALIST BY THE NAME OF PETRY...CARSON PETRY.  THE CORPSMAN LAUGHED AND SAID THE AID STATION WAS RELOCATING AND IF THERE WAS ANY RECORD OF PETRY IT WOULD BE IN THE ADMISINSTRATIVE AREA OF THE TREATMENT TENT.  FIGURING IT WAS WORTH A TRY, THE AIRMAN WENT TO THE PARTITIONED OFF ROOM AND SAW THOUSANDS OF RECORDS PILED AT RANDOM ON THE FLOOR.  IT WAS CLEARLY A LOST CAUSE; ANY HOPE OF LOCATING AND CONTACTING SPC PETRY WAS SLIM TO NONE.  STIRKE ONE.

ONCE AGAIN, FATE STEPPED THROUGH THE DOOR. A TALL LANKY SOLDIER FROM SOMEWHERE IN THE DEEP SOUTH WAS SITTING ON A TREATMENT TABLE WITH ONE OF HIS BOOTS AND SOCKS REMOVED.  HE WAS AT THE AID STATION GETTING HIS TOE TREATED.  HE SPOKE UP AND SAID, “EXCUSE ME, SIR, DID YOU SAY SPC PETRY, SIR?”  HE DRAWLED THAT PETRY WAS STAYING IN HIS TENT.  HE SAID THAT FRESH REPLACEMENTS HAD ARRIVED AND HIS UNIT HAD BEEN CALLED BACK TO THE AIRBASE FROM THE FOB SITES…THEY WERE BEING DEPLOYED TO THE STATES IN THE MORNING.  AFTER THE PRIVATE’S TOE WAS TREATED, WE WALKED ABOUT A HUNDRED YARDS TO THE TENT, AND THERE STOOD PETRY WITH HIS PUP.  HE WAS LEAVING THE NEXT DAY FOR KUWAIT TO FINISH THE TRIP HOME TO THE STATES.

A VISIT ENSUED, AND SPC PETRY TOLD THE AIRMAN OF THE LOSS OF HIS BUDDY AND HE FELT HE WOULD NEVER FULLY RECOVER FROM LOSING HIS BEST FRIEND.  TO HELP EASE PETRY’S PAIN THE AIRMAN TOLD HIM THAT IT WAS THE CUSTOM OF THE AIR FORCE TO NAME STREETS ON THE AIRBASE AFTER FALLEN SOLDIERS, AND THAT SPC FLETCHER WOULD BE SO HONORED TOMORROW.  PETRY BROKE DOWN IN TEARS AND THE FRESH EMOTIONS OF THE LOSS OF HIS BATTLE BUDDY OVERTOOK HIM.  HE EXPRESSED HIS DEEP THANKS TO THE AIR FORCE AND THE HONOR AND REGARD SHOWN FOR A SOLDIER.  HE CONVEYED THAT SOME OF THE ANGER WAS ASUAGED KNOWING THAT THE BASE WOULD HONOR SOMEONE THEY DIDN’T EVEN KNOW.  HE SAID HE HAD SEEN THE DISREGARD FOR LIFE.  HE HAD LIVED THE OTHER MISERIES OF WAR AND THE COMPASSION SHOWN BY THE AIR FORCE WAS A WELCOMED THOUGHT AS HE RETURNED HOME.  HE WISHED HE COULD BE PRESENT FOR THE CEREMONY, BUT HIS CONVOY WAS LEAVING EARLY IN THE MORNING.

PETRY WAS QUESTIONED ABOUT THE PUP HE WAS HOLDING.   IT SEEMS THAT FLETCHER HAD CARED FOR A MOTHER DOG WHILE THEY WERE OUT IN THE FIELD.  THE DOG HAD PUPS, AND SPC PETRY ADOPTED ONE OF THE FEMALE PUPS, HOPING TO TAKE IT BACK TO THE STATES AND GIVE IT TO FLETCHER’S MOTHER.  SHE WAS A WIDOW AND PFC FLETCHER WAS HER ONLY CHILD.

SPC PETRY HAD MANAGED TO GET THE PUPPY TO THE AIR BASE FROM A REMOTE FOB SITE.  HIS PLANS WERE TO TAKE THE PUP WITH HIM ON THE CONVOY TO KUWAIT, THEN BOARD A PLANE WITH THE DOG AS HE TRAVELED BACK TO HIS HOME BASE.  THERE WAS NO DOUBT THE DOG WOULD GET TO KUWAIT, BUT IT WAS EXPLAINED THAT THE LIKELIHOOD OF GETTING THE DOG BEYOND THAT POINT WAS NOT GOOD.  PETRY ASKED WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO THE PUPPY IF HE COULDN’T GET HER ON THE PLANE.  HE WAS TOLD THAT THE DOG WOULD BE DESTROYED.  AGAIN, TEARS WERE SHED AT SUCH A PROSPECT.  WAR IS NOT A FORGIVING BUSINESS. 

PETRY WAS ASSURED IF THE DOG WERE LEFT IN THE HANDS OF THE AIRMAN THE PUP STOOD A BETTER CHANCE OF GETTING TO THE STATES THAN IF HE TRIED TO SMUGGLE THE DOG ON THE TRANSPORT PLANE.  PETRY THOUGHT LONG AND HARD BEFORE DECIDING TO LEAVE THE FUTURE OF THE PUPPY IN THE HANDS OF SOMEONE HE DIDN’T KNOW.  IN THE END, HE TURNED THE DOG AND THE KENNEL OVER TO THE AIRMAN.  SHE HAD BEEN WELL KEPT.  SHE WAS CLEAN AND TRAINED WELL.  PETRY AND FLETCHER’S FOUR LEGGED BATTLE GROUND LEGACY SAID THEIR GOODBYES AND PARTED.

THE COLONEL CARRIED THE KENNEL AND HIS CHARGE TO THE HOSPITAL AND FOUND AN OUT-OF-THE-WAY PROTECTED AREA TO CARE FOR THE PUP.  IT WAS AN ODD COMBINATION, THAT DOG AND THE OFFICER-IN-CHARGE.  YOU SEE, THE OLD OFFICER WAS USED TO CARRYING OUT THE DISTASTEFUL TASK OF DESTROYING DOGS ON THE WAR BASE; NOT PROTECTING THEM.  WAR MAKES FOR STRANGE BEDFELLOW’S.

A CALL WAS MADE THAT AFTERNOON TO MRS. FLETCHER AND THE COLONEL TOLD HER THAT SPC PETRY HAD BEEN FOUND AND SO HAD THE PUP.  SHE WAS TOLD THAT EVERYTHING THAT COULD BE DONE WOULD BE DONE TO GET THE DOG TO HER.  SHE WAS GRATEFULL AND OVERJOYED TO KNOW THAT SPC PETRY WAS SAFE AND COMING HOME.  MRS. FLETCHER WAS TOLD OF THE STREET NAMING CEREMONY THE FOLLOWING MORNING HONORING HER SON AND THAT FURTHER CORRESPONDANCE WOULD BE MAINTAINED REGARDING TRANSPORT OF THE PUP.

THE NEXT DAY, AS THE MORNING’S CEREMONY WAS BEING PUT TOGETHER, IT CAME TO THE ATTENTION OF THE ORGANIZERS THAT THERE WAS A CERTAIN COLONEL WHO HAD, THROUGH UNUSUAL CIRCUMSTANCES, BEEN IN CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE MOTHER OF ONE OF THE SOLDIERS WHO WAS BEING HONORED.  THE COLONEL WAS SOUGHT OUT AND ASKED TO CORRESPOND ONE MORE TIME WITH THE WOMAN FROM NEW YORK TO ASK HER IF SHE WOULD LIKE TO SEND SOME THOUGHTS TO BE SHARED AT THE MORNINGS GATHERING.

HE MADE A HASTY PHONE CALL AND IN HER RESPONSE, MRS. FLETCHER STATED THAT, “LIFE HAS MANY TWISTS AND TURNS.   IT IS STILL SO INCREDIBLE HOW WE CONNECTED THROUGH A LETTER FOUND ON THE POST OFFICE FLOOR.  IT NEVER CEASES TO AMAZE ME HOW THE DIVINE WORKS IN OUR LIVES. YOU WERE SO KIND TO WRITE ME.  I REMEMBER BEING SO HAPPY THAT THE BOXES I SENT GOT TO THE SOLDIERS IN THE AIR FORCE, BUT IN ACTUALITY, IT WAS THE LETTER YOU PICKED UP.  IT WAS SO GOOD OF YOU TO WRITE.  AND NOW THIS.”

PFC FLETCHER’S MOTHER ASKED THAT THE FOLLOWING REMARKS BE READ:

“I WOULD LIKE TO THANK THE AIR FORCE FOR HONORING

MY SON, JACOB, BY NAMING THIS STREET AFTER HIM.  TO

KNOW THAT A ROAD WILL BE TRAVELED BY SOLDIERS AND

AIRMEN BEARING MY SON’S NAME MEANS MUCH TO ME. 

KEEPING HIS MEMORY ALIVE BRINGS ME PEACE.  MY SON

WAS A MAN OF GREAT COURAGE AND COMPASSION.  THE

BRAVERY HE SHOWED WAS AS DEEP AS THE COMPASSION

HE FELT FOR OTHERS.   HE TRULY CARED ABOUT HIS

COUNTRY, HIS FAMILY (BOTH AT HOME AND IN THE

MILITARY), AND HID FRIENDS.   I KNOW MY SON WOULD BE

SO HONORED FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.  I AM DEEPLY

GRATEFUL TO YOU ALL.  GET HOME SAFE AND SOON.  GOD

BLESS YOU.”   

DORINE, JACOB'S MOM

THE READER OF THIS STORY MIGHT THINK IT ENDS HERE.  ONE DEAD SOLDIER.  ONE ILLEAGLY KEPT DOG.  ONE SOLDIER ON HIS WAY HOME, NEVER TO BE SEEN BY THE AIRMAN AGAIN.  AND ONE MOTHER IN DESPAIR OVER THE LOSS OF HER ONLY CHILD.  ALL OF THIS IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR WHERE THERE IS NO TIME TO DEAL WITH ANY OF THE SIDE SHOWS OF LIFE.  FEW RESOURCES CAN BE SPENT TO DEAL WITH COMPASSION.  THE MISSION IS FOREMOST.  POLICY MUST BE FOLLOWED.  PROTOCALL MUST BE MET.  THE SHOW MUST GO ON.  IS THIS, THEN, THE END OF THE STORY, MY DEAR READER?  NO…IT’S JUST THE BEGINNING.

THE CEREMONY WAS FITTING AND THE SPEECHES WERE SHORT.  THE STREET WAS NAMED AND SIGNS WERE PUT IN PLACE.  THEY WERE SOON COVERED WITH A PATINA OF FINE DESERT DUST THAT COVERED EVERY THING AND EVERY ONE.  WAR DOESN’T STOP FOR ANY MAN, DEAD OR ALIVE.  THE ENEMY DOESN’T KNOW THE SCHEDULES OF CEREMONY OR REMEMBRANCE.

BACK AT THE HOSPITAL THE COLONEL TENDED QUICKLY TO THE DOG AND SET OUT TO INVESTIGATE A WHITE POWDERY SUBSTANCE FOUND BY A SECRUITY PATROL OUT BY THE WIRE.  DUTY CALLED, AND IT WAS WAR AS USUAL.  AFTER THE DAYS WORK WAS DONE AND BATTLEFIELD REQUESTS MADE TO SUPPORT STAFF IN QUATAR, THE COLONEL HAD TIME TO REFLECT ON WHAT HE WAS GOING TO DO TO GET FLETCHER’S PUP STATESIDE.  THE MISSION NEEDED A NAME…“OPERATION DOG GONE”. 

IT WAS 2AM WHEN THE COLONEL CLIMBED INTO HIS BUNK.  HIS BUNKMATE WAS STILL AWAKE.  SLEEP COMES HARD IN THIS PLACE.  HIS BUNKMATE WAS A MEMBER OF AN AIR NATIONAL GUARD UNIT FROM MAINE.  HE WAS A FLIGHT DOC AND A UROLOGICAL SURGEON, A GOOD ONE.   THE COLONEL ASKED HIS MATE IF HIS UNIT EVER FLEW MISSIONS INTO KIRKUK.  DOC SAID THAT HIS UNIT FLEW C-130’S INTO THE AIR BASE FROM TIME TO TIME.  “WHY”, HE ASKED.  THE STORY WAS TOLD AND AFTER WONDERING OUT LOUD IF THE COLONEL WAS CRAZY, DOC SAID HE’D FOLLOW UP.  A FEW DAYS PASSED AND CONTACT WAS MADE WITH HIS HOME UNIT IN MAINE, ONLY TO BE TOLD THAT THEIR AIRCRAFT MISSION HAD BEEN DIVERTED TO A BASE IN SOUTHERN IRAQ AND NO OTHER FLIGHTS WOULD BE MADE TO KIRKUK.  STRIKE ONE.

WHILE INSPECTING THE AIR BAS TRANSPORTATION SECTION FLIGHT MEALS, THE COLONEL ASKED THE FLIGHT CONTROL NCO WHAT THE POLICY WAS ON FLYING ANIMALS BACK TO THE STATES.  HE WAS TOLD IT WAS FORBIDDEN AND IF THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE WERE TO FIND AN ANIMAL OTHER THAN A SERVICE DOG ON BOARD AN OVERSEASE AIRCRAFT THERE WOULD BE HELL TO PAY.  STRIKE TWO. 

IN HOPES THAT THE SARGE WOULD BE WILLING TO SNEAK THE PUP ON BOARD, THE STORY WAS RETOLD.  THE SERGEANT HELD FAST TO POLICY.  IT WAS STRIKE THREE.  THE BATTER WAS OUT, BUT THE INNING WASN’T OVER.

THE WAR WAS GOING AS WELL AS WAR CAN.  BUT, THE COLONEL’S PRIVATE WAR WAS NOT GOING SO WELL.  ANOTHER AVENUE MUST BE FOUND…BUT WHAT?  WHERE?  WHO?  HOW?

DAYS PASSED, AND THE DOG HAD NOT YET BEEN DISCOVERED.  EARLY ONE MORNING, THE COLONEL WAS INFORMED THAT A SENATOR FROM NEW YORK WAS EXPECTED TO VISIT THE BASE THE NEXT DAY AND HE WAS ASKED TO SIT AT THE SENATOR’S TABLE FOR LUNCH.  AFTER LEARNING WHO THE SENATOR WAS, THE COLONEL ASKED FOR A RAIN CHECK.  THE REQUEST TO ATTEND TURNED INTO AN ORDER TO ATTEND.  AS ORDERED, THE COLONEL ATTENDED.  HE STOOD IN THE ROOM WITH THE SENATOR FROM NEW YORK WHILE ANOTHER AIRMAN TOOK HIS PLACE AT THE TABLE.  THE MENU INCLUDED STEAK, LOBSTER AND FRESH SALAD.  STRANGE THAT THE MEN AND WOMEN CARRYING THE HEAVY BURDON AND PRIVILAGE OF BATTLE WEREN’T SEEING THE SAME RATIOINS SERVED TO THEM.

WHILE STANDING IN THE ABANDONED IRAQI HANGER TURNED LUNCHROOM, THE COLONEL BEGAN PUTTING SOME THOUGHTS TOGETHER ABOUT THE TRANSPORT OF A DOG BACK TO NEW YORK.

ONCE AGAIN, THE GODS OF GOOD FORTUNE SHOWN BRIGHTLY.  “OPERATION DOG GONE” WAS ABOUT TO MEET WITH SUCCESS!  AN AID TO THE SENATOR WAS QUICKLY SOUGHT OUT AND A MESSAGE GIVEN TO HIM TO ASK THE SENATOR ABOUT TRANSPORT OF A PUPPY TO THE WIDOWED MOTHER OF A SOLDIER KILLED IN ACTION.  HOW COULD THE SENATOR SAY NO?

• A CONSTITUANT
• A CHARTERED AIRCRAFT
• A SENATOR FROM NEW YORK
• A DOG NEEDING TO GO TO NEW YORK
• POLITICAL IMMUNITY FOR TRANSPORTING AN ANIMAL 
• A PERFECT PRESS RELEASE: “SENATOR BRINGS HOME ADOPTED PUPPY OF AN ONLY SON KILLED IN ACTION TO HIS WIDOWED MOTHER”. 

IT COULD NOT FAIL!

THE AID RETURNED WITH A DISSAPOINTING MESSAGE LATER IN THE DAY.  NOT ONLY DID THE SENATOR SAY NO, BUT SHE STATED THAT SHE DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO SIT WITH A DOG, NOR DID SHE WANT A DOG ON THE PLANE WITH HER.  THE COLONEL NOT ONLY MISCALCULATED THE SENATOR’S RESPONSE, BUT IT TURNED OUT THAT HE HAD MADE A HUGE PROTOCALL ERROR.  STRIKE ONE, AGAIN.

THE SENATOR REPORTED TO THE BASE COMMANDER THAT HER STAFF HAD BEEN APPROACHED BY AN OFFICER ASKING HER TO BRING A DOG BACK TO THE STATES WITH HER.  AND FURTHER, THE OFFICER DIDN’T FOLLOW PROTOCALL PRIOR TO TALKING WITH HER STAFF. 

AS A RESULT, THE COMMANDER HAD A “CONVERSATION” WITH THE MEDIC AND HE WAS INFORMED THAT HE WAS NEVER TO SPEAK TO A POLITICAL VISITOR OR STAFF MEMBER AGAIN WITHOUR FIRST INFORMING HIM OF SUCH INTENTIONS.  AND…”WHAT WAS THIS ABOUT A DOG????”  THE BASE COMMANDER WAS BRIEFED ON THE DOG TO NO AVAIL.  THERE WAS A WAR TO FIGHT.  STRIKE TWO, AGAIN.

WITH A SORE BACKSIDE, HAVING BEEN CHEWED ON BY THE BASE COMMANDER, THE COLONEL RETURNED TO THE FIELD HOSPITAL ONLY TO FIND A NOTE ON HIS DESK TO REPORT TO THE HOSPITAL COMMANDER.  ONCE AGAIN THE COLONEL WAS READ THE RIOT ACT AND WHAT WAS LEFT OF HIS ASS WAS CHEWED THE REST OF THE WAY OFF.  AND…“WHAT WAS THIS ABOUT A DAMNED DOG????”  AGAIN, THE SOTRY WAS TOLD.  AND AGAIN TO NO AVAIL.  POLICY WAS INVOLVED.  THE COLONEL WAS ORDERED TO, “GET RID OF THE DOG”. 

STRIKE THREE, AGAIN.  BUT THE INNING STILL WASN’T OVER. 

AT THIS POINT THE WRITER WILL DIGRESS.  THE READER WILL COME TO UNDERSTAND WHY.

THE DUTIES OF THE PUBLIC HEALTH OFFICER FOR A WAR ZONE AIR BASE ARE MANY.  THE COLONEL WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR WATER QUALITY AND TREATMENT, INSPECTION OF FOOD RATIONS, CHOW HALL INSPECTION FOR SANITATION, FOOD PREPARATION STANDARDS, SEWAGE TREATMENT AND DISPOSAL, FIELD HYGENE, SLEEPING QUARTERS, IDENTIFICATION AND ERRADICATION OF INDIGENOUS POISONESS PLANTS, INSECTS AND REPTILES, DISPOSITION OF ANIMALS, DATA COLLECTION OF SICK CALL STATISTICS TO FORCAST POSSIBLE SICKNESS, INJURY REPORT DATA TO CHART COMMON INJURIES, DISPOSAL OF BODY TISSUE AND FLUIDS, MORTUARY ACTIVITIES, FLIGHT MEALS, FIELD KITCHENS, IMMUNIZATIONS, SOLID WASTE DISPOSAL PRACTICES, AND MANY MORE.

ONE OF THE “MANY MORE” WAS THE NEED TO MONITOR THE LAUNDRY FACILITY.  YOU SEE, THE LAUNDRY FACILITY WASHED THE HOSPITAL LINNENS AND IT WAS THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PUBLIC HEALTH OFFICER TO ENSURE THAT PROPER CHLORINE AND TEMPERATURE LEVELS WERE MET SO THE LINENS WOULD BE PROPERLY SANITIZED FOR PATIENT USE PER WAR ZONE POLICY.  AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT THE LAUNDRY WAS CONTRACTED OUT TO A TURKMAN BY THE NAME OF MATINE, AND THE READER KNOWS BY NOW THE COLONEL WAS A STICKLER FOR FOLLOWING POLICY.

BOTTOM OF THE NINTH, LAST BATTER-UP!

NOW THEN, IT TURNS OUT THAT MATINE AND THE COLONEL WERE ON VERY GOOD WORKING TERMS AND FAMILIARITY.  THEY HAD SHARED MANY CUPS OF TEA TOGETHER, AND IT DIDN’T HURT THAT MATINE LIKED DOGS.  IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TAKING THE DOG LATE THAT NIGHT TO MATINE’S COMPOUND ON BASE, THUS, “GETTING RID OF THE DOG”, AS ORDERED.  MATINE WAS THRILLED TO HAVE A COMPANION IN HIS QUARTERS.  THE COLONEL TOLD HIM THE SOTRY OF FLETCHER, HIS MOTHER, PETRY, THE SENATOR, EVEN THE ASS CHEWING FROM THE COMMANDER. 

MATINE SAID HE DIDN’T CARE ABOUT THE COMMANDER.  IT SEEMED TO HIM THE LEAST HE COULD DO WAS TO KEEP THE PUP AND TRY HIS BEST TO GET THE DOG TO THE MOTHER OF A SON WHO GAVE HIS LIFE IN A FOREIGN LAND FOR PEOPLE HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW AND A CULTURE THAT WAS UNDOUBTEDLY STRANGE TO HIM.

NOW, I’M SURE THAT YOU THINK THIS STORY HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH AND THE END MUST SURELY BE NEAR.  BUT, JUST AS IT SEEMS THE END OF EACH DAY UNDER FIRE WILL NEVER END, NEITHER WILL THIS INCREDIBLE STORY OF COINCIDENCE AND KISMET.  READ ON.

IT WAS NOW THE END OF FEBRUARY, THREE MONTHS SINCE THE LETTER WAS FOUND ON THE POST OFFICE FLOOR. THE COLONEL CONTINUED TO KEEP IN TOUCH WITH FLETCHER’S MOTHER BACK IN LONG ISLAND.  MATINE CONTINUED TO CARE FOR THE PUP AND THE WAR REMAINED UNCHANGED.  EVERY DAY WAS GROUNDHOG DAY.  THE ROCKETS CAME IN, WOUNDED SOLDIERS WERE BROUGHT TO THE HOSPITAL, THE AK-47 ROUNDS FELL ON THE FLOOR OF THE OPERATING ROOMS, AND NEW TROOPS ARRIVED.

AROUND 3AM ONE MORNING, THE WEARY COLONEL HOOFED IT OVER TO MATINE’S COMPOUND ACOSS BASE TO SHARE A CUP OF TEA AND TO EXPEND WHAT LITTLE ENERGY WAS LEFT SO SLEEP COULD COME BEFORE DAYLIGHT.  MATINE DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH EITHER, HE WAS ALWAYS UP.  THE NEWS OF THE DAY WAS THAT MATINE HAD SECURED A FOUR WHEEL DRIVE VEHICLE AND TWO ARMED DRIVERS.  HE WAS SENDING THEM WITH THE DOG TO THE TURKEY/IRAQ BORDER IN HOPES OF GETTING THROUGH THE GUARD POST.  MATINE OWNED A SMALL FARM IN TURKEY AND THE DOG WOULD BE KEPT THERE TILL ARRANGEMENTS COULD BE MADE TO SHIP THE PUP TO THE STATES. 

THE COLONEL MADE CONTACT WITH AN ARMY VETERINARIAN, TOLD HIM THE STORY AND ASKED IF HE WANTED TO BE PART OF “OPERATION DOG GONE”.  HE IMMEDIATELY SAID, “YES!”.  THE COLONEL AND THE  VET MET AT THE LAUNDRY AND A THOUROUGH EXAM WAS MADE OF THE DOG, IMMUNIZATIONS WERE GIVEN, AND THE FOLLOWING DAY A LETTER APPEARED ON U. S. ARMY VETERINARY STATIONARY STATING THE DOG WAS HEALTHY AND ALL IMMUNIZATIONS FOR TRANSPORT TO THE UNITED STATES HAD BEEN ADMINISTERED, CERTIFIED AND MET.  THE LETTER HAD A 30 DAY LIMIT FOR AUTHORIZED RECIPT TO AUTHORITIES IN THE STATES.  ACTION HAD TO BE TAKEN FAST.

THE DRIVERS WERE PUT IN PLACE AND ARMED WITH WEAPONS, THE VEHICLE WAS GASSED UP, THE PUP WAS MUZZELED, LEASHED, KENNELED AND LOADED IN THE BACK OF THE RIG LATE THE NEXT NIGHT.  MATINE AND THE COLONEL WATCHED THE TAILIGHTS FADE IN THE EVER-PRESENT DUST AND HAD A CUP OF TEA.

THE PHONE RANG AT THE HOSPITAL THE NEXT MORNING AND WHEN THE COLONEL ANSWERED, IT WAS MATINE.  HE  SAID TO COME QUICKLY.

THE DRIVERS AND THEIR PACKAGE HAD RETURNED TO BASE.  AS THEY APPROACHED THE BOARDER CROSSING, THERE WAS A SKIRMISH TAKING PLACE AND THEY DIDN’T WANT TO CHANCE GETTING CAUGHT IN THE CROSS FIRE.  THINGS WERE GETTING TIGHT AND NOW WAS NOT THE TIME TO THROW CAUTION TO THE WIND.  THE FAT LADY WASN’T SINGING YET, BUT SHE WAS WARMING UP, AND SHE COULD BE HEARD.

STRIKE ONE.

MATINE AND THE COLONEL STRATEGIZED AND DECIDED ANOTHER ATTEMPT WOULD BE MADE, BUT IT HAD TO BE SOON.  MATINE WAS IN CONTACT WITH PEOPLE ON THE TURKISH SIDE OF THE BORDER, AND WAS ABLE TO DETERMINE IF THERE WAS ANY ANTICIPATED ACTIVITY IN THE AREA.  THE DECISION WAS MADE TO WAIT UNTIL THE FULL MOON WAS PAST AND HOPE REPORTS FROM THE BORDER SHOWED NO ACTIVITY.  THE NIGHT WAS DARK WHEN THE DRIVERS AND THE DOG LEFT THE BASE.  IN THE EERIE SHADOWS OF CLEAR DESERT STARLIGHT.  ANOTHER CUP OF TEA WAS SHARED BETWEEN THE TURKMAN AND THE AIRMAN LATE INTO THE NIGHT.  WHAT MORE COULD HAPPEN THEY WONDERED.  BUT HAPPEN IT DID.

NOT ONLY WAS THE FAT LADY WARMING UP, SHE WAS STANDING AT THE CURTAIN READY TO GO ON STAGE AS MATINE AND THE COLONEL WAITED FOR THE DRIVERS TO RETURN.  THIS TIME THEY MADE IT TO THE BORDER, BUT WERE STOPPED BY THE GUARDS AND TOLD TO TURN AROUND. 

STRIKE TWO.

THINGS WERE COMING DOWN TO THE WIRE.  MATINE MADE CONTACT WITH SOME SHEEP HEARDERS NEAR THE BORDER AND THE COLONEL CONTACTED A WORKER AT THE AMERICAN AIR BASE IN TURKEY.  THE CONTACT IN TURKEY SAID HE WOULD RECEIVE THE DOG AND TAKE IT TO MATINE’S FARM AND CARE FOR HER.  HE WOULD ALSO MAKE ARRANGEMENTS FOR TRANSPORT BY COMMERCIAL AIR TO THE STATES.  MATINE WAS NOW CERTAIN THE CROSSING WOULD BE CLEAR THIS TIME, AND HE INSISTED ON PAYING THE AIRFARE FOR SHIPMENT OF THE PUP TO NEW YORK AND FLETCHER’S MOM.

ALTERNATE PLANS WERE MADE TO TAKE A ROAD THAT WOULD BY-PASS THE BORDER CHECKPOINT, BUT WOULD NOT BE AS SECURE.  THE DRIVERS AGREED.  ANOTHER CUP OF TEA, ANOTHER ATTEMPT AND ANOTHER DAY AT WAR.

WHY THESE MEN RISKED THEIR LIVES FOR A DOG, AND WHY THE HOT BREATH OF WAR SEEMED TO SWIRL WITHOUT REGARD FOR PROMISES  MADE OR PROMISES BROKEN WILL NEVER BE KNOWN.  BUT SUFFICE IT TO SAY THAT IT WAS NOT FOR LACK OF TRYING THAT THIS STORY ENDS  THE WAY IT DOES.

THE DRIVERS MADE IT ACROSS THE BORDER.  THE CONTACT AT THE BASE IN TURKEY PICKED UP THE DOG AND DELIVERED HER TO THE FARM.  “OPERATION DOG GONE” SEEMED TO BE ON TRACK.  THE 30 DAY TIME LIMIT ON THE LETTER FROM THE VET RAN OUT, BUT MATINE MADE PLANS TO RETURN TO HIS FARM FOR A FEW DAYS AND AGREED TO HAVE THE DOG RECERTIFIED FOR INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL.  THINGS WERE LOOKING GOOD AGAIN, AND IT LOOKED LIKE THE FAT LADY WAS GOING TO GET THE HOOK.

IT WOULD BE PREFFERABLE TO END THIS TALE WITH THE MOTHER OF A FALLEN SON AND HIS DOG UNITED, BUT THAT ISN’T THE WAY IT ENDS.  TOO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED WITHOUT MATINE RETURNING TO BASE.  THE COLONEL LEARNED THAT HE HAD BEEN “DETAINED” AT THE BORDER AND SUBSEQUENTLY IMPRISONED.  HE NEVER MADE IT TO TURKEY, BUT HE DID ESCAPE ONLY TO BE RECAPTURED.  MATINE CONVINCED HIS CAPTORS TO CONTACT OFFICIALS AT KIRKUK AIR BASE.  HE WAS RELEASED AND MADE HIS WAY BACK TO THE BASE, AND THERE HE REMAINED.  “OPERATION DOG GONE” WAS OVER AND WAR WON THE DAY.

THE COLONEL ONCE AGAIN CONTACTED MRS. FLETCHER.  SHE UNDERSTOOD AND SAID SHE HAD FOUND A MISSION OF HER OWN THAT FILLLED A GAP IN HER HEART AND HER LIFE.  SHE FOUNDED AN ORGANIZATION IN HER SON’S NAME THAT SHIPS PACKAGES TO SOLDIERS FAR FROM HOME.  MRS. FLECHER WAS ON NATIONAL NEWS CHANNELS AND GOOD MORNING AMERICA.  HER SON IS REMEMBERED AND HIS LEGACY IS CONTINUED SERVICE TO OTHERS THROUGH HIS NAME.

Lt. Col. Dewayne Knott                                                                                                                                            Public Health Officer                                                                                                                                                  502^nd Expeditionary Medical Group                                                                                                                      Kirkuk Air Base                                                                                                                                                     Northern Iraq

POST SCRIPT, 2012:

THE HARSH REALITY OF WAR MAKES THIS STORY FEEL COLD AND FACTUAL RATHER THAN WARM AND FUZZY.  A WAR ENVIRONMENT ISN’T A WARM AND FUZZY PLACE.  THOSE ENGAGED IN THE DEATH AND DESTRUCTION OF WAR SEARCH DESPERATELY FOR A CORNER OF COMFORT AND COMPASSION.  THOSE CORNERS ARE HIDDEN AND WHEN THEY ARE FOUND IT IS A HARBOR FOR THE SOLDIER.  BUT EVEN THOUGGH THE CORNER SEEMS TO BE OF COMFORT THE FEAR OF THE ENEMY IS ONLY AROUND THE NEXT CORNER.  THE SOLDIER MUST REMAIN EVER VIGILANT AND DARE NOT TARY IN THE SAFE SHADOWS OF A WARM CORNER.  TIME IS NOT AVAILABLE TO GET TOO COMFORTABLE OR FAMILIAR.  BESIDES, THOSE WITH WHOME YOU MAY COME TO KNOW TOO WELL MAY BE TAKEN FROM YOU TOO SOON.  THUS THE NAMELESS DOG…THUS THE STARK PROSE OF THE STORY.

MATINE IS SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDEAST.  PETRY IS SOMEWHERE IN THE STATES.  FLETCHER’S PUP IS SOMEWHERE IN TURKEY.  DORINE IS IN LONG ISLAND.  THE COLONEL IS RETIRED.  THE TROOPS HAVE LEFT IRAQ.  THE WORLD IS VERY SMALL, INDEED.  WE MUST CARE FOR IT AND EACH OTHER.

LITTLE DID THE COLONEL KNOW WHEN HE ATTENDED THE  MEMORIAL SERVICE ON THAT DAY IN NOVEMBER THAT HE WAS PAYING HIS RESPECTS TO A CERTAIN PFC JACOB FLETCHER, WHOM HE WOULD COME TO KNOW THROUGH HIS TRENCH BUDDY, SPC PETRY.  THE COLONEL WOULD ALSO COME TO KNOW A DISTANT GRIEVING MOTHER, A BRAVE TURK, AN UNDERSTANDING VETERINARIAN AND AN UNCOMPASSIONATE SENATOR.  FLETCHER’S MOTHER NEVER KNEW THE COLONEL WAS NOT THE ONE WHO HAD RECEIVED HER GIFT.  HE WAS JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS OF THE DAY: “PICK IT UP, FIX IT OR PUT IT BACK”.

I KNOW.   I WAS THERE.

Dewayne Knott, Lt. Col.                                                                                                                                                  U. S. Air Force, Retired

                                                                                      Loretto