I flew home last weekend; my first visit to the States in five months.The purpose of my trip was to attend a ceremony honoring my brother Dane and the other heroes of Khost at the CIA headquarters in Mclean, Virgina.It would turn out to be a celebration of the heroic efforts of more than Dane and his comrades; at least six more Americans were recognized, although much of what they accomplished will quietly slip into the past...what they did, so few will know the truth of how much was done by six Americans.
I finished reading, "Where Men Win Glory:The Odyssey of Pat Tillman", by Jon Krahauer on the flight to New York. I have read a number of Krakauer's books and I enjoy his writing style; he turns the rocks over that need to be turned and challenges the reader to think beyond the obvious(he would make a good detective). The story hammered my chest, it was painful to read the story as I knew the ending, no surprises; Hollywood would not be there to rescue the hero. Although Dane was not an NFL star, I could see common character traits that Pat Tillman shared with my brother. I thought Dane would like this guy, no nonsense, duty driven, a thinking man who challenged himself and others and most importantly a man who loved his family and country...I could see them sizing each other up; would be an interesting conversation, Dane too was a no talk, prove it kind of guy.
I was met at Baltimore-Washington International by one large(former college linebacker) representative from the CIA holding a sign with my last name. A brief introduction and from around the corner comes my son; man, is he getting bigger or has dad started to shrink??? Matthew looks good, has a big smile and hugs like a bear!!! We grab my bag from the claim carousel and head to the car.Okay, let me tell you, I forgot how police/feds drive when they are allowed to drive..."E" ticket in Disneyland is nothing believe me on this one.
We get a short briefing from the CIA representative( I will call him "D") on what to expect at the ceremony on Monday, June 7, 2010. He advises us that he will be there to take care of our needs 24/7 until we leave for home. It turns out that Matthew forgot his tie(no surprise) and D says, no problem I will get one to you(yep, a nice Brooks Brothers tie appears on Monday) in time for the ceremony. We exchange business cards and get to our room; we look for my dad and family in the process, only to be told they are staying at a different hotel until Sunday; looks like the reunion will be delayed. We grab a late dinner and head for bed as we have a trip to Gettysburg at 0700 hours on Sunday.
We are going to visit the Gettysburg National Military Park in Pennsylvania; scene of the greatest battle of the Civil War. We have our own guide, who happens to be my Assistant Director, Garrett Zimmon; unknown to us at the start of the tour, he is a scholar of the Civil War. We have the audio-tour of Gettysburg that will "talk" us through the great battlefield at designated stopping points; Garrett however fills in the "story behind the story" with anecdotal stories and the personal and family connections the major combatants shared. Matthew is a avid reader of World War II materials and shared his visit to Normandy with Garrett.
First stop is the Gettysburg National Military Visitor Center and Museum for the restored "Battle of Gettysburg" cyclorama. This is a 360 degree painting by a French artist(who painted himself into the battle) of the Battle of Gettysburg that is now preserved with an audio tape and background sounds and lighting to lead the viewer through the three-day battle. No pictures here!!! What many people do not realize is that the Gettysburg Battlefield encompasses twenty-five (25) square miles that was fought over for three days between the Union and the Confederacy; there are significant topographical changes within those twenty-five square miles which play a major role in the final outcome.
It is amazingly peaceful in this expansive memorial to the Civil War. It is also a place of contradictions; Segway Scooters with riders wearing helmets and Blue tooth devices to hear the guide; and just across the road a horse trail with mounted riders wearing "cowboy" hats and Blue tooth devices to hear their guide. The Park is afforded great respect by those I see today; no litter is dropped; no monuments climbed...parents much subdued as they gaze across the "Wheatfield/Peach Orchard". I see Carolinians, Virginians, New Yorkers, folks from Illinois and Indiana and other parts of the United States staring at the monuments and the open fields; my God, what must have happened here is beyond our comprehension of "modern" warfare.
Walking down the trail to the "Devil's Den" affords time to listen to the birds(of which there are many) of the dense forest surrounding this place and providing cover leading up the slopes of "Little Roundtop".
Little Roundtop is the site of the violent struggle between the 20th Maine and the 15th Alabama; from behind small rock walls the soldiers protected the flank of the Union Army. A place if breached by the Confederate forces meant certain defeat for the Union; where bayonets were employed by the 20th Maine soldiers as a last resort to repulse the 15th Alabama troops... a place so small in comparison to the rest of the Gettysburg Battlefield...a place where so few did so much.
We are entertained by a pair of hawks that seem to have found the perfect spot to glide on the "thermals" above "Big Roundtop". It is almost comical to watch them being chased away by nesting birds and to hear them screech above us; they actually engage in a dance above our heads(although maybe difficult to see, both birds have talons down as they circle and dive at each other).
I do not sense or feel violence in the air/earth as we stand on Big Roundtop and look back across the Gettysburg Battlefield; it is a place at peace in our time with monuments to heroes lost; it is a place that became the crucible upon which the American future was forged; it is a place that Americans come to experience, some knowing and some ignorant still they ask,"Why?"; it is a fitting place to imagine my brother walking through the fields amongst his fellow soldiers; it is a fitting resting place for heroes.
Monday, June 7, 2010 finally arrives; the day has come for official recognition of my brother and all of the other heroes. My family is ready to go, the look on their collective face tells me the suffering is not over; today will be long for us. We are driven to the CIA facility along with other families staying at our hotel; we are then escorted to a small conference room where a brief ceremony(the first of three)is held for the families. The CIA presents some "gifts" to the immediate family members of the honored heroes. It is not tense in the room, however, it is in my opinion somewhat uncomfortable as the emotions once again surface on the faces and eyes of families present; it is welling up in us all over again; in some in comes in a shaking flood; in others silent pain emanates from them; this hurts, and no one escapes the moment.
The commemorative ceremony is held in the main entrance of the CIA building and Director Leon Panetta gives a passionate speech about the sacrifice these few people have made for America and the world. He acknowledges the contribution of each fallen hero and notes a personal trait of one of them...he nails Dane,someone who knew him must have contributed to the speech. We are pretty much teary eyed and Matthew pats my leg as I pass the Kleenex to someone next to me...Dane is now a "star" upon the wall along with the rest of the heroes.
It is incomplete; I am not satisfied; my brother was so much more than a star upon a wall; he was bigger than life; he did more in a day than most men do in a lifetime; he was the flame that burned the brightest in our family; he was invincible in our eyes; he did the impossible everyday and made us laugh about his exploits; he spared us the horror and the reality of his profession; he was and remains what most men aspire to be; he was honest, painfully so; he loved without boundaries; he died doing what loved doing and what he was best at doing...protecting us from harm.
It is late on the plane ride back to Albania; I am thinking about the comments D made before he dropped us off at BWI. D told Matthew and me that Dane had finished number "1" in his qualification course before posting back to Afghanistan and had been offered (very rarely done) a direct appointment to the CIA. According to D, Dane told the CIA he wanted to get this assignment under his belt and then determine if this was the type of unit he wanted to join...was he trying to make us feel better, maybe so, however, that is exactly how Dane would approach the offer; no talk, prove it with your actions.
I have had many friends talk about closure and the healing of one's wounds received as the result of a tragic loss; yeah it comes, slowly for me, like the ebb and flo of low tide...maybe soon, I will stop waking up in the middle of the night reaching for the phone expecting a voice on the other end, "Hey, big brother, watching the sun come up over the Hindu Kush, I'm okay, gotta go"...that's the kinda brother Dane was to all of us.
I loved my brother; still love him now and I suspect I will forever. Shine on little brother I will be looking for you...
