Wounded Warrior Offers Real Story
(September 7, 2009) |
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| WASHINGTON, Sept. 2, 2009 – Two days ago,
I and six other reporters accompanied Defense Secretary
Robert M. Gates to Texas to see two high-tech operations
under way: the F-35 Lightning II joint strike fighter
Lockheed Martin is building in Fort Worth, and the
retrofitting of the MC-12 Liberty turboprop at the L3
Communications plant in Greenville.
Both efforts have important military implications. The F-35
is a revolutionary next-generation fighter aircraft that the
Air Force, Navy and Marine Corps, as well as eight partner
nations, will share. The MC-12 is being outfitted with
state-of-the-art gear – 41,000 pieces of it, to be exact –
and already is delivering new intelligence, surveillance and
reconnaissance capabilities in Iraq. It soon will do the
same for warfighters in Afghanistan as more come off the
line.
Getting to see both operations firsthand was impressive, to
say the least. It was gratifying to see the energy, and
frankly, the money, being poured into programs that directly
support our troops on the front lines.
But almost 48 hours after the return flight to Andrews Air
Force Base, Md., these stops aren't the ones lingering in my
mind.
What replays over and over in my head, and that I find
myself sharing with just about everyone I talk with, is the
third stop on the Texas trip, where
Gates helped to present a
wounded warrior with keys to a brand new, all-expenses-paid
house near Houston.
Only two other Pentagon reporters and I opted to cover that
stop, which most of us hadn't known about until just days
before the trip.
The two factory visits, which included a news conference at
the Lockheed Martin plant, had delivered solid, hard-news
stories about the F-35, the MC-12 and the situation on
Afghanistan that couldn't wait. Editors wanted their
stories. Time was of the essence. That's how the news
business works.
Yet that additional side trip to Cypress, just outside
Houston, yielded what to me was the most eye-opening and
inspiring story of the day, maybe of the year.
A community came together and raised enough money to buy a
brand-new, 3,300-square-foot home for a severely wounded
Marine captain and his family. They presented it with no
strings attached, calling him a hero and telling him it was
part of the debt they owed him for his sacrifices and
service.
I admit I'm a bit of a sap. But our motorcade approached the
house, I was moved by the outpouring of genuine support.
Hundreds of wildly cheering people lined the street and the
sidewalk leading up to the front door: Boy Scouts in
uniforms, schoolchildren hoisting hand-painted banners,
neighbors holding American flags, Marines in their dress
blues.
The house itself was packed with well-wishers crammed into
every nook and cranny, all focused on a makeshift podium set
up in the middle of the living room.
The luminaries made their speeches. Before Secretary Gates
spoke, the onlookers heard from Houston Astros legend Craig
Biggio, Texas Lt. Gov. David Dewhurt, U.S. Rep Todd Tiahrt
from Kansas, and Meredith Iler, national chairwoman for the
Helping a Hero organization that made the donation
possible.
But it was Capt. Dan Moran, the medically retired Marine
they were honoring, who left the group spellbound.
Moran has sacrificed a lot since an enemy attack left him
with excruciating third-degree burns over his body, a
fractured vertebra and mild traumatic brain injury. He's
undergone more than 30 surgeries and spent two and a half
years recovering at the burn center at Brooke Army Medical
Center in San Antonio.
To this day, he can't control his body temperature and has
to stay in a 68-degree environment. He can't go outside in
the sunshine, where his body will overheat and his burns
will fester. His face is red and swollen, a testament to his
wounds.
But as he stood at the podium in his new living room, he
harbored no anger, no blame, no sense of being owed
something.
“What do I say to people who have given me so much?” he
asked. “Words don't do justice. So let me tell you right
now. It is going to be the way that I live my life. And the
way I am going to live my life is by honor, courage and
commitment.”
At this point, a tear started rolling down my cheek. Bad
form for a reporter, even one who works for the Defense
Department. But then another tear followed. I felt
self-conscious -- until I saw tears rolling down the faces
of many others crowding the room. How could anyone not feel
the raw emotion of this?
“You can rest assured,” Moran continued. “You made an
investment in me and other wounded warriors, and I promise
you, you will get a return on your investment in me. ... This
is how I am going to pay you back: by how I live my life and
the impact I will have.”
I looked across the room at Secretary Gates, and it was
obvious that he, too, had been touched by the captain.
Flying on the plane back to Washington, Gates told reporters
that he had jokingly told Moran, “Remind me to never speak
after you.”
Moran would have been a tough act for anyone to follow.
As I reflect on the Texas trip, I feel edified by the
experience. I'm further amazed at the technology that goes
into making our warfighters the world's best. I'm impressed
by the American industrial base – where workers I met
expressed genuine pride in the fact that their everyday work
is saving lives on the battlefield.
But the image I can't shake is of Captain Moran at that
podium, so eloquently expressing humble thanks and
committing himself to a life of example and service.
That's a news story. |
Donna Miles
American Forces Press Service Copyright 2009
(Donna Miles can be reached for comment at
donna.miles@osd.mil.)
Reprinted
from American
Forces Press Service / DoD
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