I cannot even imagine how hard this was to do and yet I do know that you are excellent at the hard conversations. I am grateful that you took this honor on as you also have the heart for it. Every parent-- both mothers and fathers-- as well as spouses--who sends their loved ones to the military and off to deployments especially have had this conversation with themselves. Parents actually have various reactions to this possibility. I steeled myself every time you were deployed as I arrived at the house , peeping around the street corner to see who was there--yes totally over the top but true. I kept my phone tied to me at all times and would go into panic mode if I missed a call and had nightmares about the "knock at the door". All exaggerated reactions but it shows the level of anxiety that parents and spouses live with. Because the fact of the matter is, it's a dangerous world we live in and the military is a dangerous occupation even when not deployed. Just training is dangerous. You have handled all of this well and been there for many losses with your troops and their families. Grateful is what I am that you came home and I will always remember those who did not. I also promise to try hard to live a life worth that level of sacrifice.
I trained to do those visits as well and thank all that be that I never had to do it while I was in. My son is going to join the Navy next year and...all I can think is I don't want to be the parents on the receiving end of that visit. He's joining that AVF you wrote about so eloquently, in a peace time Navy. He's joining because military is what we do in my family and it can't always be someone else's boy.
But I hope the universe hears me when I plead that I don't want to answer that doorbell. I don't want that to be me.
Thank you just doesn't seem strong enough for all you do Will. What a poignant essay. Brought tears to my eyes. Just another reminder of the costs of war that so many Americans forget. You write about it so beautifully too.
You are an American treasure. I hope you keep reminding us all of these costs so we never forget either.
That takes courage. Empathy, heart and soul, but I think courage, also, because I suspect each time you must be revisiting all your own pain. Thank you for being the human being who is not afraid to reach out to another human being. Such a sad sad duty.
This comment is hard to write because my vision is blurred with tears.
Will, I am so honored to have met you. I appreciate you more than you will ever possibly know. Thank you for sharing with us all, what this job was like for you and how highly you held that responsibility. Your respect for that task is monumental.
Reading your description of that last call of duty that you performed with such grace and honor, is a gift to me. I'm one of those parents who willingly gave a child to the military, a child who never came home. However, my story is a little different than most (I hope!). For us, the NOK never came.
Somehow, with all the unnecessary bureaucratic paperwork, someone must have missed crossing a few Ts or didn't dot an i... My notification arrived in a phone call on my cell phone while my husband was driving us home from a long weekend trip. We were on an interstate highway, in the dark, after driving for at least 10 hours. My poor husband. He has told me that the scream I let out, almost caused two more deaths as he jumped and swerved to and from oncoming traffic, in the dark of a poorly lit stretch of interstate in a sparsely populated area of northern WI.
I don't remember much about those first months after my beloved son was killed in action in Afghanistan, but I do remember that phone call that permanently shattered my world. I will never forget running out of the car as soon as my husband was able to bring it under control and pull over. I ran into a desolate field in the dark. My poor husband. He had no indication of why I was behaving like that. I ran into that dark field, fell to my knees and screamed. My husband wasn't sure if that scream came from me or a wild animal I may have aroused. He ran after me in a dark panic I cannot imagine. My poor husband. Neither of us will ever forget that night. He fell to his knees next to me in the mud, wrapped his arms around my sobbing body and asked, "Honey, what's wrong? What happened to you?". When I finally stopped screaming and weeping enough to speak a few words, I remember telling him, "It happened to us all." My poor husband. He had three more hours to drive to get us home, after hearing that our world was now shattered and would never be the same.
No one should ever be notified of the death of their precious child on a battlefield 7000 miles from home, in that manner. The memory of that night seared the shattered pieces of my broken heart. Those memories of that cold, muddy darkness I sank into that night as I wept over our loss of Danny will always be a moment's memory away.
Thank you Will, that you took that responsibility to notify loved ones with such dignity and honor. Something we did not ever receive. I may never know why, no one ever showed up at our door. Never. Not even days later. I'm sure if I investigate, I will learn it was an unfortunate mistake. I'm sure we will receive an apology. But I will tell you here and now, that mistake made receiving the most horrific news any parent can ever receive a horror that is burned into my memory.
Your beautiful story here, was a gift to me. Thank you.
Oh dear Holly. I am so very very sorry for you and your husband's loss. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you both are going through. Let alone receiving the notification the way you did. I feel my words are inadequate to express my gratitude for the sacrifice you, your family and your precious son gave to us all.
Just please know how very much my heart goes out to you. If you ever need a friend or just someone to talk to I'd be glad to. One of the reasons that drew me to Will's Substack is that he wrote so eloquently about ptsd of which I experience as a violent crime survivor. Then of course fell in love with his writing and I support his mission wholeheartedly. He is indeed a treasure. I hope you too find healing in his work. And like I said please accept my heartfelt condolences. ❤️🙏🏻🙌
There really is no way a civilian, such as myself, can thank or repay the men and women who serve in our military. If only humans had a few hundred thousand years of practice on 'getting along' with each other, this glob of dirt ,we all call home, could be free of wars. Perhaps another few hundred thousand years of practice may see better results.
SSgt USMC (Ret) 1977-1981, 1991-2007: Spent my twilight tour on I&I duty, half in Iraq and E. Africa, in between way to many NOK calls. The two that I was “Primary” on are still with me today…along with the rest of “my issues” from 20 years and multiple deployments. Thanks for sharing your view/thoughts.
I cannot even imagine how hard this was to do and yet I do know that you are excellent at the hard conversations. I am grateful that you took this honor on as you also have the heart for it. Every parent-- both mothers and fathers-- as well as spouses--who sends their loved ones to the military and off to deployments especially have had this conversation with themselves. Parents actually have various reactions to this possibility. I steeled myself every time you were deployed as I arrived at the house , peeping around the street corner to see who was there--yes totally over the top but true. I kept my phone tied to me at all times and would go into panic mode if I missed a call and had nightmares about the "knock at the door". All exaggerated reactions but it shows the level of anxiety that parents and spouses live with. Because the fact of the matter is, it's a dangerous world we live in and the military is a dangerous occupation even when not deployed. Just training is dangerous. You have handled all of this well and been there for many losses with your troops and their families. Grateful is what I am that you came home and I will always remember those who did not. I also promise to try hard to live a life worth that level of sacrifice.
Katherine, just hanging in there with your precious but over the top son is sacrifice enough.
I trained to do those visits as well and thank all that be that I never had to do it while I was in. My son is going to join the Navy next year and...all I can think is I don't want to be the parents on the receiving end of that visit. He's joining that AVF you wrote about so eloquently, in a peace time Navy. He's joining because military is what we do in my family and it can't always be someone else's boy.
But I hope the universe hears me when I plead that I don't want to answer that doorbell. I don't want that to be me.
My broken heart is with you Michele.
Thank you just doesn't seem strong enough for all you do Will. What a poignant essay. Brought tears to my eyes. Just another reminder of the costs of war that so many Americans forget. You write about it so beautifully too.
You are an American treasure. I hope you keep reminding us all of these costs so we never forget either.
That takes courage. Empathy, heart and soul, but I think courage, also, because I suspect each time you must be revisiting all your own pain. Thank you for being the human being who is not afraid to reach out to another human being. Such a sad sad duty.
This comment is hard to write because my vision is blurred with tears.
Will, I am so honored to have met you. I appreciate you more than you will ever possibly know. Thank you for sharing with us all, what this job was like for you and how highly you held that responsibility. Your respect for that task is monumental.
Reading your description of that last call of duty that you performed with such grace and honor, is a gift to me. I'm one of those parents who willingly gave a child to the military, a child who never came home. However, my story is a little different than most (I hope!). For us, the NOK never came.
Somehow, with all the unnecessary bureaucratic paperwork, someone must have missed crossing a few Ts or didn't dot an i... My notification arrived in a phone call on my cell phone while my husband was driving us home from a long weekend trip. We were on an interstate highway, in the dark, after driving for at least 10 hours. My poor husband. He has told me that the scream I let out, almost caused two more deaths as he jumped and swerved to and from oncoming traffic, in the dark of a poorly lit stretch of interstate in a sparsely populated area of northern WI.
I don't remember much about those first months after my beloved son was killed in action in Afghanistan, but I do remember that phone call that permanently shattered my world. I will never forget running out of the car as soon as my husband was able to bring it under control and pull over. I ran into a desolate field in the dark. My poor husband. He had no indication of why I was behaving like that. I ran into that dark field, fell to my knees and screamed. My husband wasn't sure if that scream came from me or a wild animal I may have aroused. He ran after me in a dark panic I cannot imagine. My poor husband. Neither of us will ever forget that night. He fell to his knees next to me in the mud, wrapped his arms around my sobbing body and asked, "Honey, what's wrong? What happened to you?". When I finally stopped screaming and weeping enough to speak a few words, I remember telling him, "It happened to us all." My poor husband. He had three more hours to drive to get us home, after hearing that our world was now shattered and would never be the same.
No one should ever be notified of the death of their precious child on a battlefield 7000 miles from home, in that manner. The memory of that night seared the shattered pieces of my broken heart. Those memories of that cold, muddy darkness I sank into that night as I wept over our loss of Danny will always be a moment's memory away.
Thank you Will, that you took that responsibility to notify loved ones with such dignity and honor. Something we did not ever receive. I may never know why, no one ever showed up at our door. Never. Not even days later. I'm sure if I investigate, I will learn it was an unfortunate mistake. I'm sure we will receive an apology. But I will tell you here and now, that mistake made receiving the most horrific news any parent can ever receive a horror that is burned into my memory.
Your beautiful story here, was a gift to me. Thank you.
Oh dear Holly. I am so very very sorry for you and your husband's loss. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you both are going through. Let alone receiving the notification the way you did. I feel my words are inadequate to express my gratitude for the sacrifice you, your family and your precious son gave to us all.
Just please know how very much my heart goes out to you. If you ever need a friend or just someone to talk to I'd be glad to. One of the reasons that drew me to Will's Substack is that he wrote so eloquently about ptsd of which I experience as a violent crime survivor. Then of course fell in love with his writing and I support his mission wholeheartedly. He is indeed a treasure. I hope you too find healing in his work. And like I said please accept my heartfelt condolences. ❤️🙏🏻🙌
Thank you Lisa, for your kind and compassionate words.
There really is no way a civilian, such as myself, can thank or repay the men and women who serve in our military. If only humans had a few hundred thousand years of practice on 'getting along' with each other, this glob of dirt ,we all call home, could be free of wars. Perhaps another few hundred thousand years of practice may see better results.
SSgt USMC (Ret) 1977-1981, 1991-2007: Spent my twilight tour on I&I duty, half in Iraq and E. Africa, in between way to many NOK calls. The two that I was “Primary” on are still with me today…along with the rest of “my issues” from 20 years and multiple deployments. Thanks for sharing your view/thoughts.