A personal battle
On the home front:
'Some days I just existed'
PART ONE OF THREEFor Maj. Lisa Baltimore, the war in Iraq is as close as the soldiers in her operating room.
"Sometimes I cry," said Baltimore, 50, a surgical nurse at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington.
"It's just that these soldiers are just children - most are 20 to 27, so they're old enough to be my children. It just breaks your heart."
Despite their injuries, she said, "their spirit is so good, and they're so proud of what they do and want to return to their home unit" in Iraq. "They believe in what they're fighting for."
Today's Unknown Soldiers
For Baltimore, an Army reservist on leave from Bon Secours St. Mary's Hospital in Richmond, these are today's unknown soldiers, the wounded and people with disabilities whose names and faces rarely make the news.
In response to a Times-Dispatch query, 60 people shared their experiences or thoughts about the war. Over the next three days, this series will explore how Richmond-area residents have been affected, either directly or indirectly, by America's invasion and occupation of Iraq.
They are stories of personal sacrifices, turmoil and courage on the home front.
"No one knows how a family is affected unless they do have a loved one in Iraq," wrote Donna Driscoll of Chesterfield County.
Readers mirrored the nation's divide on U.S. foreign policy, with some strongly backing President Bush and others sharply opposing his handling of the war and its aftermath.
Whatever their political differences, many agreed that the armed forces in Iraq deserve support through letters, calls and care packages from home.
"Since our son left for Iraq Oct. 8, 2003 to lead a platoon, news about and from Iraq dominates our thoughts, actions, conversations and prayers," Terri Shepherd of Chesterfield wrote last month of her son, Army 2nd Lt. Chris Shepherd.
"Every incident reported in the news generates a period of fear, dread, and sadness until we receive a phone call or e-mail from him letting us know he is OK."
After she breathes "a temporary sigh of relief," Shepherd added, "the sadness remains . . . for the precious lives lost or soldiers injured."
One Army wife wrote last month, "I am spending another day alone." Her husband was deployed Dec. 7.
"At Christmas I wasn't supposed to touch him and he couldn't take his shirt off because of the smallpox shot he had gotten. . . . He was sick the whole time," she wrote.
His unit left for Iraq this month. "They tell us it will be a year and maybe two. I hate to watch the news knowing my husband will be there soon and knowing some of the people that are there now.
"Every time troops are killed, you wonder if it was someone you knew."
She ended: "Please don't use my name. I am scared sometimes at night alone. I am afraid that the wives are going to become targets for break-ins because people will know we are alone."
Baltimore, the surgical nurse, was called up for Reserve duty in March, five months after her wedding in Richmond. "It's been a long-distance marriage," she said.
But Baltimore said her problems pale in comparison with the soldiers she treats.
"It's very difficult for me to see those soldiers who return injured without any arms or legs," she said.
Others who responded provided a barometer of the morale in Iraq. Susan and Bryan Austin of Midlothian said their son, Army Spc. Michael P. Austin, "maintains a fairly upbeat attitude, which helps us deal with the concerns we have for safety and health."
Susan Austin wrote, "I have a large circle of friends and family who are all thinking (and some praying) for Mike's safety and hope for his timely return."
The family reads the paper daily and follows news closely on TV. "We talk about it to friends and family, and find that most agree with us that this is a terrible situation that could have been avoided," she wrote.
Many parents, wives and siblings have found ways to channel their anxieties into actions to benefit the troops.
Supporting the Troops, Regardless of Politics
"Our son's service in Iraq has taught us something about the American people," Terri Shepherd wrote. "Give them a cause, tell them the need, and a domino effect is produced."
Shepherd, a counselor at Spring Run Elementary School in Chesterfield, described her students' letter-writing campaign to her son's platoon. Her husband's company, Cadmus Communications, also sent eight boxes of goods to Iraq.
"Countless individuals, regardless of their political persuasions, understand that the soldiers did not make decisions regarding war," Shepherd wrote.
Chris Shepherd wrote his parents about "the smiles across their faces" when his soldiers got the letters.
Such moments of joy are surrounded by the reality of war. Spc. Chris Donivan is an Army military policeman who recently returned to Fort Eustis from Iraq.
"Without going into detail, it is not something I ever want to have to do again, but if I'm called I will go," he wrote.
Donivan said there's a lack of reporting about good news from Iraq - "the grateful hugs, thumbs up, a wave 'hi,' or a kiss on the cheek have not been shown to the public."
"People are so worried about the WMDs," he said of weapons of mass destruction, "but if they saw the kindness we are shown every now and again by the Iraqi people, I feel our men and women still over there, such as my girlfriend, will be better supported."
Questions Do Remain
Others questioned the wisdom of the massive military effort.
"One has to ask the question, 'Is the United States a better place now than we were prior to the attack?'" Frances Burch of Henrico County wrote. "Has it helped us or hurt us? And then we need to ask, 'Is Iraq in a better place since the attack? Has it helped them more than it hurt them?'"
Burch concluded: "Regardless of the answers to these questions, we've stepped in the mud. It's murky, dirty, and there's no quick way out."
In contrast, R.C. Woods of Richmond wrote: "The Iraq war is necessary. Saddam [Hussein] is a small-time Hitler. Someone needed to bring him down!"
Woods is a veteran of World War II and the Allied invasion at Normandy. He said the lessons of history still apply.
"I am proud of our troops, and our allies that are helping us. I am sorry France turned their back on us as well as Germany. . . . War is hell."
Questions about Iraq dominate the dinner conversation at Bill Cushnie's Midlothian home.
"In the beginning the conversation was, 'Is this necessary?' Later it became, 'The administration has planned this all along and WMD was the ruse to justify it.'"
Lately, he said, table talk centers on the "big price in lives and money - and how could our leaders have so badly misread the cultural situation?"
Cushnie said he had two grandsons who were stationed in Kuwait, and he's grateful they returned safely.
But he questioned the direction of American foreign policy, saying decisions "are being made by a small group of powerful people with bias that ignores and twists data to suit that bias."
Some readers said they can't watch news without suffering from a flood of bad memories.
"I am a female disabled veteran from the first Gulf War," wrote Teresa Tsu, a former Army field nurse from Richmond. "I can't look at the news or watch programs regarding not just this war, but the first Gulf War. I suffered from an increase in the symptoms of PTSD," she said of post-traumatic stress disorder. "My nightmares got worse, night sweats increased."
Tsu said this war could have been avoided if the United States had toppled Saddam's regime the first time around, saving "many men, women, and children."
Dagny Collier, who is married to a Marine Corps veteran, said the 1991 war "felt a bit unfinished for him because they never got Saddam Hussein."
After last year's invasion and with Saddam then still at large, Collier said, she bought her husband a pack of Most Wanted Iraqis cards.
"Our son even had a military-themed birthday party during which he and his friends played Pin the MOAB (Mother of All Bombs) on Saddam in lieu of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. My mother made a dartboard with Saddam's face on it."
On the morning of Saddam's capture, Collier wrote, their phone rang off the hook at their Henrico home with joyous calls from family and friends.
"There was a celebratory feeling in the air in our house, much like someone had been liberated."
She said her husband, Chris, felt his own liberation being "freed from years of feeling like a job had been left unfinished."
But more work remains. One mother described her daughter's agonizing wait for her husband's return.
Dealing With "Not Just Numbers"
"Every time it was reported that a Marine was injured or killed, it sent a wave of panic through us that words cannot describe," wrote the woman, who asked that her name not be used. "Throughout this time, as a mother, it broke my heart to watch as my daughter suffered. . . . I also grieved for my son-in-law and for what he must be experiencing."
Her son-in-law returned physically unharmed, but she wonders if he will ever be the same. "To an outsider all looks the same," she said, "but I know in my heart that all will never be the same for him. And for this I am very sad."
The war made this woman take stock of her own world view.
"I sometimes feel guilty about how sheltered I lived most of my life before this experience. I witnessed the Vietnam War through a teenager's carefree eyes. Even though some of my friends had brothers or cousins who were in the war, the news stories and horrors had little effect on my life."
Now, she said, "I am paying attention."
"Every time I hear that a serviceman has been wounded or killed, I experience a sadness that is unlike any I have felt before, and I say a prayer for the family of the wounded or killed serviceman, and a prayer of thanks that my son-in-law came home to us."
BY CHIP JONESContact Chip Jones at (804) 649-6726 or cjones@timesdispatch.com
TIMES-DISPATCH STAFF WRITER
Sunday, February 22, 2004
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