A Soldier's Perspective

Final Salute (A Book Review)

I talked about this a little in the JROTC post. "Final Salute: A Story of Unfinished Lives" by Jim Sheeler chronicles the lives of several CAOs, Casualty Assistance Officers, as they go about the somber business of notifying family members of their servicemembers' deaths and how they cope afterwards. The book has been hailed as both "required reading" and an "act of national service" to more profane things by the anti-war crowd as a "pro-war" book. In the day and a half it took me to read this book I can say that it is a page turner that SHOULD be required reading in the halls of Congress and throughout this country to highlight what our military families sacrifice as we wage this war. Since Americans don't feel a connection to this war, it's simply too easy to send them into the next one.

In Chapter 25, Major Beck speaks of this detachment by saying that he thinks "that in many ways the people in this country are detached from the war – financially detached, emotionally detached. With the exception of their political stance – that's how they're attached – is what party they belong to." To these dead servicemembers, politics mean nothing. They only care about keeping the guy next to them alive so that they can see their families when they get home. "He's fighting for the guy next to him and for us," he continues.

Jim Sheeler does a superb job of keeping politics out of his tribute to the fallen. The book is based off of writings in the Rocky Mountain News for which he won the 2006 Pulitzer Prize for Featured Writing. Broken down into four parts ("The Knock", "Reverberations", "Bringing Them Home", and "After the War, Stories"), Sheeler follows the lives of several CAOs as they go about the brutal task ripping a family's life apart with the news that their son or daughter, brother or sister, was killed and then helping to build them back up as they cope and deal. From the very first story (included below), Sheeler taught me a lesson: do not read this book in public!

At times, I found myself embarrassed as I looked up with glassy and tearful eyes only to realize I wasn't alone and people noticed. I decided to read this book while traveling to meet with Soldiers and, therefore, I'm traveling in uniform. "I can't let these people see me cry," I thought. I didn't want them to get the wrong idea about the purpose or meaning behind it.

As many of you know, I've been deeply interested in telling the stories of our fallen. While I've been unable to do so emotionally recently, it's still important to me. If I were to write a book, this is probably what it would look like. Sheeler takes you into the lives of who these fallen servicemembers were: Marine Lance Corporal Kyle W. Burns, Navy Corpsman HM3 Christopher "Doc" Anderson, Marine Second Lieutenant James J. Cathey, Marine Corporal Brett Lee Lundstrom, and Army Private First Class Jesse A. Givens. Some had families of their own and some didn't, but all are powerfully loved and missed by someone.

Spending, in some cases, three years with the families, Sheeler tells a brutally honest story of the families of these troops. Not all are supportive of the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, but all were supportive of their heroes. He doesn't hold any punches when describing the bitter feelings some family members have about their loss. He highlights the failures and the successes of the casualty assistance process. The book is neither pro-war nor anti-war. It's "a story of unfinished lives" as the subtitle suggests. And it's a book you can only pray to be privileged to win on this site. But if you can't wait – and you shouldn't – you can buy the book now. And I can't recommend it enough!

Below the cut line, I've gotten permission from Penguin Press to reproduce the first chapter of the book. I promise you that you will need a tissue as you read this. Or, you can simply embarrass yourself as I did. I've also provided a link above where you can purchase the book immediately as a gift or for your own collection. If you don't like it, I'll personally buy it back from you!!

Chapter One

Every door is different.

Some are ornately hand-carved hardwood; some are hollow tin. Some are protected by elaborate security systems, some by flapping screens. The doors are all that stand between a family and the message.

For Major Steve Beck it starts with a knock, or a ring of the doorbell — a simple act, really, with the power to shatter a soul. Marines are trained to kill. They are known for their blank stare and an allegiance to their unofficial motto, "No greater friend, no worse enemy." Since 2003, as the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan intensified, Marines such as Major Beck found themselves catapulted into a duty they never trained for — a mission without weapons.

As a Marine the forty year-old had already won accolades as the most accomplished marksman of his class. He later earned two master's degrees in a quest to become a leader on the battlefield. He had hoped to deploy during the Persian Gulf War but was still in training when the conflict ended. He then trained and led Marines in preparations for conflicts in Somalia, Bosnia, and Haiti at the Marine Air Ground Task Force Training Command in Twenty-nine Palms, California. During the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, he served as a recruiter for the war he ached to join. During the initial invasion of Iraq, he was finishing his term at the Air Command and Staff College, hoping to transfer quickly to a deploying unit. Instead, he was sent to Colorado, where he once again trained Marine reservists for war, expecting he would soon join them.

He found himself faced with an assignment that starts with a long walk to a stranger's porch and an outstretched hand sheathed in a soft white glove. It continues with a promise steeped in the history of the Corps that most people associate only with the battlefield: Never leave a Marine behind.

In combat, men have taken bullets while retrieving their comrades' bodies, knowing that the dead Marine would have done the same for them. It is a tradition instilled in boot camp, where Marines are ingrained with 230 years of history and the sacrifices of tens of thousands of lives.

For Major Beck — and thousands of men and women throughout the world tasked with notification duty — it is a promise that holds long after the dead return home.

Ask a Marine. Even the "grunts" on the front lines say they would rather be in the danger zone in Iraq than having to stand on that porch. From the beginning, Major Beck decided, if he was going to have to do it, he would do it his way, the way he would want it done if he were the one in the casket.

Over the next two years and through several notifications, Beck made a point of learning each dead Marine's name and nickname. He touched the toys they grew up with and read the letters they wrote home. He held grieving mothers in long embraces, absorbing their muffled cries into the dark blue shoulder of his uniform. Sometimes he returned home to his own family and cried in the dark.

When he first donned the Marine uniform, Steve Beck had never heard the term casualty assistance calls officer. He certainly never expected to serve as one.

As it turned out, it would become the most important mission of his life.

***

As Veterans Day slid into another blank date on the calendar, the Marines drove through the snowy streets of the Laramie neighborhood. The house found them first, beckoning with the brightest porch lights and biggest address numbers on the block. Inside the SUV, the major played out scenarios with his gunnery sergeant as if they were headed into battle. What if the parents aren't home? What if they become aggressive? What if they break down? What if, what if, what if?

The major pulled to the curb and cut his headlights. He looked at the gunnery sergeant. Then the two men climbed out of the truck, walked into the untouched powder, and heard the soft snow crunch.

From then on, every step would leave footprints.

***

In the basement of their home in Laramie, Kyle Burns's parents didn't hear the doorbell. The couple had spent most of the snowy night trying to hook up a new television. It was nearly 1:00 A.M. when the dog leapt into a barking frenzy. Kyle's mother climbed the stairs from the basement, looked out the window and saw the two Marines on the frozen porch.

Go away! she thought. Get the hell away from here! Then she started screaming.

***

While each door is different, the scenes inside are almost always the same. "The curtains pull away. They come to the door. And they know. They always know," Major Beck said. "You can almost see the blood run out of their body and their heart hit the floor. It's not the blood as much as their soul. Something sinks. I've never seen that except when someone dies. And I've seen a lot of death.

"They're falling — either literally or figuratively — and you have to catch them. In this business, I can't save his life. All I can do is catch the family while they're falling."

Excerpted from FINAL SALUTE: A Story of Unfinished Lives by Jim Sheeler. Reprinted by arrangement with The Penguin Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA), Inc. Copyright (c) May, 2008.