American Heroes

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Could you eat while everyone around you went hungry? Could you drink while thousands of thirsty people stood watching?

That was the dilemma I faced today. I flew into the town of Logane with a company of Marines from the 3rd Battalion of the 2nd Marine Division. We made ourselves at home in a cow pasture (complete with cows) that was big enough for the gigantic CH-53 helicopters that would deliver tons of supplies for the beleaguered residents of the area.

In a short time we had food. Tons of it. And water – thousands of gallons. Piled up in boxes in the center of the field. This brought thousands of hungry citizens out of the woodwork. The Marines established a perimeter around the field with armed sentries to keep anyone from rushing the helicopters and possibly getting hurt. And the fierce rotowash of the ‘53’s did the rest. After the first came in and blew anything not nailed down (including people on bicycles) into the fields behind the road that encircled the field, the guards were largely redundant. Every time a helicopter came in to land, the Haitians ran away – falling facedown on the road or hiding in ditches to escape the rotorwash. It became, for them, a sort of entertainment.

Here were thousands of people who hadn’t had a decent meal in over a week, and who had to gnaw raw sugar cane (which is grown in that area) to satisfy their thirst, because there is no clean water. Their belongings are scattered, their loved ones dead or injured. Many of them pointed to their flattened houses and spoke of family members crushed inside – but without heavy machinery there is no way to recover their bodies. And so the dead remain entombed in the ruins of their homes.

I couldn’t help but wonder as I watched them wait patiently around the field, not knowing when or even if the tons food they could plainly see would be distributed – would Americans stand and wait quietly, or would we be rioting in the streets? Images of the aftermath of hurricane Katrina came to mind, and I fear we would not be so understanding and long-suffering.

I walked among them and exercised my rusty French, finding more than a few who spoke passable English. So many of them spoke of their faith in God. One man put it this way – We have faith that God will provide. And God bless the United States Marines.

The day grew long and the sun was painfully hot. I never saw any of them eat anything but stalks of raw sugar cane. I became desperately thirsty and realized that it was past lunchtime, so I walked to my bag, which I’d set near a Mango tree in the clearing, and dug for the MRE and Nalgene bottle inside. I found them and took a sip of water – it was wonderful. I was just about to dig into my MRE when I happened to look around. On all sides were the piercing stares of starving, thirsty people. All of them asked the same question:

What about us?

I put the food and water away.

It’s not up to me what happens with the aid we delivered today. Something in me would just like to see the Marines throw open the boxes and throw food to the throng, in the frenetic fashion of Christmas morning. But someone wiser than me made the decision that to try and distribute it from the landing zone would likely result in mayhem that would compromise the entire mission. So the supplies were turned over to the local contingent of UN peacekeepers – these from Sri Lanka.

This decision almost DID cause a riot.

The second time I approached the crowd they were noticeably agitated. “Why are you giving it to them?” they wanted to know.”The UN are criminals!”

Apparently the UN isn’t popular around here. I’m not surprised: last year when I visited Haiti, I filmed UN soldiers in the marketplace selling the aid they were supposed to be giving away. The “peacekeepers” are notoriously abusive and the people claim you can’t get anything from them without “paying” in some form or fashion.

You’d think that with the entire country in ruins, the crooks and corruptocrats would take a holiday. But corruption is so endemic in Haitian culture that I fear a good portion of the aid flooding into the country right now will end up NOT getting to the people who need it most.

The military is taking a very measured approach to this problem, and after being on the ground today, I got a better idea of the scale and the difficulty of it. While it’s tempting to want to just throw food and water out of the helicopters at the first needy people we come across, sometimes caring must have a harder, more calculated edge.

Pray that well-meaning agencies and governments involved in Haiti will be wise in the distribution of aid – and that they would do it quickly. There are children with empty bellies in Haiti tonight.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

 USS Bataan, West of Jamaica

This Amphibious Assault ship is headed south, bursting with men and materiel.  We’re a part of the US response to the historic earthquake that devastated the island of Haiti just under one week ago. 

A ship like this normally requires 96 hours to get underway when called up for an emergency – just bringing the enormous engines online can take an entire day.  But despite the fact that the crew of the Bataan only returned from a seven-month deployment five weeks ago, these remarkable men and women responded in record time, pulling away from the docks in just under 48 hours.

During the two-day run down the eastern seaboard to the beleaguered island nation, the ship continued to collect men and supplies via huge CH-53 helicopters.  The almost 2,500 sailors and Marines now aboard are all chomping at the bit to get on the ground in Haiti and start the business of recovery.  Televisions in the boardroom keep them abreast of the state of things on the ground – and the news isn’t good.  There is talk in the corridors about how best to handle the desperate crowds of hungry people who mob helicopters whenever they land.  The staff of the level-2 hospital has been conducting mass casualty drills, and young Marines are being briefed by the chaplains as to how the carnage could affect them psychologically. 

It’s a dirty job, but Marines specialize in dirty jobs, and the attitude here on the Bataan is “let’s get on with it.”

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Baby Nourah was born blind.  Her condition is reversible with surgery, but being born in a small village outside Baghdad, her parents had neither the income nor the opportunity to do anything about it.  In addition, the city’s hospitals lack the facilities and physicians to perform the procedure.  What they needed was a miracle.

Their miracle would come in the form of Army 1st Lt. Jason Hickman, a platoon leader with the North Carolina National Guard.

Divine Intervention

 It happened on a dark road about five months ago when a convoy made a wrong turn and ended up in Zwaynat, a small village southwest of Baghdad.  The girl happened to be there visiting her uncle, and he met the convoy commander and informed him of the baby’s plight. 

“So there we were at a place we hadn’t intended on being,” said Hickman. “Wrong turn, perhaps, but that’s not how I see it. My interest and contacts with the Order of Saint John, the wrong turn, her being there with her uncle instead of with her parents in Baghdad — no, not a coincidence.” 

The Order of St. John, accredited by the United Nations, provides first aid, health care and support services in more than 40 countries. 

“I do believe that God puts people in certain places at certain times,” Hickman said. “Things don’t happen solely by coincidence. All you have to do is look for the road signs. The signs were clear, so I sent some e-mails, and that’s how we arrived here.” 

Once Nourah was diagnosed, Hickman e-mailed St. John’s Jerusalem Eye Hospital, the main provider of eye care in the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem, and a cause he has contributed to in the past. 

but the operation would be costly.  So Hickman and his fellow soldiers passed the hat – and with the help of their hometowns in North Carolina and West Virginia, raised over $5,000.00 and paid for the operation.

Today Nourah has to wear glasses until her eyes are fully healed, but she can see.  All because some Christian soldiers knew the real meaning of Christmas.

“The Lord may not push you around the board like a pawn, but every now and again he puts you where he wants you,” Hickman said. “We were supposed to end up in Zwaynat that night. It was just up to us what we were going to do when we got there.”

adapted from this story posted by Office of the Secretary of Defense Public Affairs.