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Chapter 16 Newsle er Organiza on and Responsibili es: President’s Message Editor: Glen Craig This will be my final message to you as President of this Chapter. It’s been a six year run and I am very proud of all we have achieved during my Sec ons: tenure. I always felt that it was important for the President’s message live Message from the President: Dave Shell up to an SFA cri cal task, which is to be a voice for the Special Forces Treasurers Report: Kevin Pa on community on all things that impact our force, veterans and families. I Sec. Rpt (Staff Mee ng Minutes): Paul Bagshaw took on some of the most controversial issues of the day and tried to sort through the poli cs, emo on, and misinforma on in the hope that Sick Call/Obituary: Chaplain Butch Hall someone was listening, and that my analysis and thoughts would influence Blast from the Past: Glen Craig distant conversa ons, and would be the catalyst behind the most ra onal Special Recogni on: Paul Bagshaw and salient of points there in. A few of the more notable subjects of my messages were: Upcoming Events: Paul Bagshaw ‐ Rules of Engagement in Afghanistan Calendar: Dave Shell ‐ The Bi‐Par san Budget Act of 2013 Human Interest Story: Chapter at large ‐ Standards of performance in a gender neutral military ‐ The li ing of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell SFA Na onal HQ Update: Dave Shell ‐ Keeping faith with and honoring brothers who have fallen on hard mes A er Ac on Report: Jim Lessler ‐ Alleged racism in Special Opera ons Membership Info: Roy Sayer ‐ Congressional failings with regard to the military re rement system Direct combat exclusion for women Adver sements: Glen Craig ‐ ‐ Defining the SFA st Suspense: ‐ Char ng the future of the 1 SFG(A) Reunion SF Heraldry st ‐ Newsle er published (Web): 1 of each For this last message I would like to express my both my sa sfac on and odd numbered month my dissa sfac on with the state of the Chapter. I owe this level of candor th to you as I exit and hope that no one is o ended by either. Input due to editor: 20 of each ff It was with more than a li le controversy that I moved the mee ngs onto even numbered month Ft. Lewis and into the 1st SFG(A) compound. For those of you who Dra due to President: 27th of each remember, when it was first suggested, the Group Commander, COL Rand Binford wanted nothing to do with us. We were just one of several great even numbered month th organiza ons like the Family Readiness Group, and First in Asia that were Final Dra due 29 of each on his ‘burn this bridge’ list. We outlived him as I knew we would and even numbered month were welcomed home by COL Fran Beaude e. This didn’t set well with several of the well‐established and long me members of the Chapter mostly due to ma ers of personal convenience. It didn’t make any difference to me, because it I knew it was the right thing to do and we have enjoyed substan al success with regard to esteem and significance within the community ever since. To date, we have folks who are cri cal of the close rela onship I have forged with the 1st Group and they feel that we have dri ed away from our mission and purpose as a fraternal veteran’s organiza on. In fact, we do spend considerable me and treasure suppor ng the 1st Group, but by doing so we have increased our numbers, be er served them whom we pridefully call our own, and carved a place for ourselves alongside one of the great historical units in American history. In making these kinds of decisions I always kept the SFA mission statement in the forefront of my mind as a guide for the parameters we are obligated by SFA membership to adhere to: “The Special Forces AssociaƟon Serves as the Voice for the Special Forces Community; Perpetuates Special Forces TradiƟons and Brotherhood; Advances the Public Image of Special Forces and Promotes the General Welfare of the Special Forces Community.” To this end I feel I was true and that we as a Chapter have lived up to each
Page 1 of the four specified tenets. The Chapter XVI Newsle er has been a success and was recognized as such in 2014 by SFA Na onal when our Chapter was presented the SFA Newsle er of the Year award. Glen Craig is to be credited for making us the best, and while we o en had heated debates over content he respected my editorial control and acquiesced at every conten ous divide. I thank him for that and for s cking with job in spite of our differences. In the end we hit a nice balance of material that included veteran’s affairs, SF current events, military history, Chapter XVI events, memorials, and SF legacy pieces. I send out the newsle er via email to more than 270 chapter members and am able to track how many of them actually click to open. We average be er than 60%, which is quite high for these kinds of mass email services. That tells me that most folks are interested enough to at least take a look at what we are pu ng out, and I would suppose that many pass the newsle er along to interested par es outside our network as well. I was always very careful to print only those kinds of news pieces that were bona fide and adhered to the highest standards of journalis c integrity. I refused to print chainmail, hate mongering of any kind, poli cal messages, tasteless jokes, or any piece that did not clearly iden fy the author and/or source. I hope that the next chapter president maintains the same standard. If we slip in this regard, we may never be able to recover, because our newsle er is in many regards our integrity. In is a permanent record that can never be denied, wiped, or sani zed a er the fact. Our chapter website has been a success, though not to the extent I envisioned when I designed it. I had intended that it be a one‐stop shop for all things chapter related, and it is. What I hadn’t counted on was having to con nue to spoon feed members informa on posted on the website in perpetuity, because they were in the mode of being served the informa on personally and were unwilling to shi to a self‐serve system. I could have responded to every member RFI by telling them to check the website, but that’s no way to win friends and influence people, so I bit my tongue and answered their ques ons one by one. As a result the chapter website became a bit stale, but s ll has great poten al and maybe with new leadership it might become a more important opera onal tool for us. Chapter solvency was and is one of our major accomplishments. We got good at raising money, which was key to our strong record of benevolence. We spent tens of thousands of dollars in the spirit of the SFA mission and in my recollec on, and Kevin’s chagrin, we never had to say “no” to anyone who needed our assistance. Of this I am proud. Where I failed was in having to work the few volunteers who were willing to step up for fundraising chores like they were Thai forkli drivers on an ac ve army airfield to meet our financial goals. I realized a er my first or second foray solici ng volunteers that it was a waste of me and more work than payoff. Again, it was a leadership failure, and I accept that. I was not willing to alienate any of the chapter members by squeezing them in ways that would most likely have resulted in their withdrawal from the chapter. Before my me we lost some very important members to Chapter 43 (Hawaii) and I was always keenly aware that it was an easy out for folks who did want to be bothered with imposi ons on their me. To be fair, I know several Chapter 43 members who volunteer an enormous amount of me to veteran’s organiza ons, so I never perceived it as a cop‐out. They just weren’t interested in the SFA. Again, I chose not to make anyone uncomfortable about their par cipa on, and o en said that if you’re SF, you have already given. As I men oned above, volunteerism was never our strongpoint. Maybe it goes back to our first days in the Army when words to live by were “never volunteer for nothing”. I thought that a bit ironic because every VIP speaker in those days always found a way to work in the “you are all three me volunteers” cliché. In any event, we have been fortunate that our chapter offices have always been filled un l now. Maybe the bar has been set too high and folks do not want to sign up for all of the ini a ves that were implemented under my tenure. All I can say is that I defined the chapter as I saw fit and the next President is free to reshape it however he sees fit. You will never hear a cri cal work from me. I am very good at le ng whoever is in‐charge be in‐charge and ge ng in step with that. In truth though, I cannot hide my disappointment that no one has anteed up other than Eric Heid the current Chapter VP who will con nue to serve in that posi on. Eric cannot do it by himself and no one expects him to. Realize too that we cannot func on either legally or opera onally without a board of directors. If we can’t fill the BoD we will be forced to shut down opera ons. The only thing that will keep us alive as a chapter is making sure the annual financial statement is turned in on me, and without a BoD that requirement could fall through the cracks shu ng us down for good. I hope not. Lastly, I would like to thank all of you for suppor ng my presidency over the last six years. I understand that it hasn’t always been easy, but in the end you helped make this a very rewarding experience for my family and me. Though I am on the other side of the world I will con nue to contribute however I can, whenever I can. I intend to be at the June mee ng, so if you want a final crack at me that will be your chance. Any IOUs over 12 months old are no longer valid, so don’t waste a lot of me riffling through your underwear drawer trying find any I might have signed. And don’t think you can change the date and swear on your beret that you didn’t, because it’s been over a year since I set foot in the U.S. See you in June. Respec ully, Dave
Pastor Butch’s Corner First Sergeant's philosophy on Bivouac The Company Commander and the First Sergeant were on bivouac with the troops in the field. Waking up in the middle of the night; the First Sergeant said, "Sir, look up into the sky and tell me what you see?" The CO said; well 1st Sgt.: "I see millions of stars." 1st Sgt.: "And what does that tell you, sir?" CO: "Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and poten ally billions of planets. Theologically, it tells me that God is great and that we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it tells me that we will have a beau ful day tomorrow. What does it tell you, Top?"
1st Sgt.: "Well sir, it tells me that somebody stole our Dang tent." Over the years people have o en shared with me that God’s Word is really hard to comprehend. My reply has always been: We o en over‐think things in God’s Word which causes us to miss the big picture. To have a be er understanding of God’s Word; we need to read it, and ask the Hold Spirit to supply the meaning and reality a er all it is God’s Word!
Page 2 J. K. Wright Memorial Breakfast, 3‐5‐16 The following members and guests were present: Ed & Erma Booth, Butch & Regina Hall, Keith Looker, Wayne & Yoko Karvonen, Nick Marvais, Glen Craig, Pa Lakey, John & Jenny Gebbie, Richard Reilley, Dennis Guiler, Steve & Sharon Epperson, Jim & Elaine Lessler, Mike Barkstrom, Mike & Joy Cassidy (IMO Del Richards), Johnny & Kim King, Rob Wekell, Ken Garcy, and Alvin Li le. Chapter 43 members were present: Skip E nger.
Chapter XVI SFA (North) There are a number of Chapter XVI Members who live North of Sea le and find it difficult to make the mee ngs at Ft Lewis or in the Area so they hold their own Mee ngs the Second Saturday of the Odd Numbered Months. The Mee ng on March 12, 2016 was held at Gene Finney’s House and was a ended by: Gene Finney, Brian Rowe, Dave Adkins, Andy Anderson, Keith Looker, Wolfgang Gartner, Willie Lindner, Jim Corcoran, Paul Kainins, and Glen Craig. A number of wives a ended also and unfortunately I didn’t get their names.
Dinosaurs Luncheon, 3‐25‐16 The following members and guests were present: Jim & Elaine Lessler, Glen Craig, Pa Lakey, Walt & Lynda Hetzler, Butch & Regina Hall, John Bi ers, Captain Ron, Roland Nuqui, Ralph "Butch" Saner, John & Inge Gebbie, and Mark Barkstrom.
J. K. Wright Memorial Breakfast, 4‐2‐16 The following members and guests were present: Butch & Regina Hall, Dennis Guiler, John & Jenny Gebbie, Rich Reilley, Walt & Lynda Hetzler, Bob Head, Ed & Erma Booth, Roland Nuqui, Rob Wekell, Nick Marvais, Glen Craig, Pa Lakey, and Johnny & Kim King.
Chapter 16 bimonthly mee ng, 4‐9‐16 The following members and guests were present Eric Heid, Ed & Erma Booth, Dennis Guiler, Glen Craig, Pa Lakey, Walt & Lynda Hetzler, Nichols, Roy Sayer, Carey Pennington, Mike & Joy Cassidy, Jim & Elaine Lessler, John & Inge Gebbie, Rich Wall, Mike Barkstrom, Bill & Steph Gates, Willy Lindner, Steve White, Dennis Downey, Nick Marvais, Bryan Rowe, Keith Looker, and Kevin & Tam Pa on.
Page 3
Many Tricare Users to Pay Enrollment Fee under Congressional Proposal
Apr 25, 2016 | by Amy Bushatz
Many Tricare users would face annual enrollment fees in a newly named plan under a dra proposal released Monday by the House Armed Services Commi ee. Under the plan, current users of Tricare Standard and Tricare Extra would fall into the newly minted Tricare Preferred plan. Users would con nue to be permi ed to self‐refer to providers, but doing so would come with an annual enrollment fee of $100 for individuals and $200 for families star ng in 2020. New Tricare users would pay even greater fees. Ac ve‐duty family members would pay $300 for an individual or $600 for families to enroll each year, while future re rees who joined the service a er 2020 would pay $425 for an individual or $850 for families. New beneficiaries who want to use Prime can do so, but also at a cost. Ac ve‐duty families would pay $180 for an individual or $360 for a family, while re rees would pay $325 for an individual or $650 for a family. Current users would not pay to use Prime. Under the new Preferred op on, users would have no annual deduc ble, but would pay set fees out of pocket. For example, emergency room visits would cost $40 in network for ac ve‐duty families, and $60 for re rees. The catastrophic yearly cap would be at $1,000 for ac ve‐duty families and $3,000 for re rees. For Prime users, no annual deduc bles would apply unless users chose to receive care without a referral. In that case, they would face a $300 for individuals or $600 for families deduc ble, with the same catastrophic cap as Preferred users. Other services, such as emergency room use, would con nue to be free. According to the legisla on, the fees would not affect current Tricare users who choose to use the new the Preferred program instead of Prime un l at least 90 days a er the U.S. comptroller general submits a report to Congress on Tricare access to care, which could be as late as February 2020, the legisla on says. All new Tricare users who join the military a er January 1, 2018, would immediately face the new fees. The bill also includes proposals that would provide be er access to care, including an order that some military treatment facili es operate urgent care centers un l at least 11 p.m. each night. Beneficiaries who don't have access to on‐base urgent care, the bill says, must be able to use urgent cares off‐base without referrals. That order comes on the heels of a Tricare plan announced early this month to allow two referral‐free urgent care visits per year, per beneficiary star ng in late May. Before becoming law, the House proposals face a rigorous examina on by lawmakers, as well as considera on and a vote in the Senate. The measures are unlikely to fully pass or fail un l late this year. Editor's Note: This story was corrected on April 26 to reflect that only currently serving beneficiaries and reƟrees who opt to use the Preferred plan aŌer 2020 would face annual enrollment fees.
COURT RULES THAT VA HAS BEEN SHORTCHANGING VETERANS SINCE 2009 BY REFUSING TO REIMBURSE THEM FOR EMERGENCY MEDICAL EXPENSES NOT COVERED BY INSURANCE
U.S. Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims Agrees with Na onal Veterans Legal Services Program Argument That VA Failed to Revise Its Reimbursement Regula ons to Comply with 2009 Congressional Mandate April 11, 2016 WASHINGTON – On Friday, a unanimous three‐judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims struck down a Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) regula on that VA had been relying upon since 2009 to deny reimbursement requests from veterans who incurred emergency medical care costs outside the VA healthcare system. The Court’s decision rebuked the VA, emphasizing that VA’s reimbursement regula on became “wholly inconsistent” with the governing statute when Congress amended it in 2009, but therea er the VA unlawfully “declined to remedy this inconsistency.” The case, Richard W. Staab v. Robert A. McDonald, was brought by the Na onal Veterans Legal Services Program (NVLSP) on behalf of an Air Force veteran who had a heart a ack in 2010 and was rushed to a non‐VA hospital, where he underwent open heart surgery and incurred
Page 4 approximately $48,000 in emergency medical expenses. Medicare covered a por on of this medical bill, and the veteran sought VA reimbursement for the por on of the medical expenses not covered by Medicare. “This is a major win for veterans, and their families, ” said Bart S chman, joint execu ve director of NVLSP and one of the a orneys in the case. “O en veterans have to seek emergency medical care outside the VA healthcare system, and for years the VA has refused to reimburse these veterans for any of the expenses incurred simply because secondary insurance covered a por on of the medical bill. This prac ce has violated federal law since at least 2009. The court’s ruling means the VA will have to amend the unlawful regula ons it should have amended in 2009 and do right by these veterans. It’s not just a win for one veteran. Veterans who have pending claims for reimbursement will benefit. Plus, veterans whose reimbursement requests were turned down years ago may now be able to get paid by claiming that the previous denial contained “clear and unmistakable error.” For many years, the VA denied reimbursement claims for emergency medical care for veterans who had par al or secondary insurance, even though VA was required by federal statute to pay these claims. In 2009, Congress passed the Emergency Care Fairness Act to confirm the congressional intent to require the VA Secretary to step in as a “secondary payer” where other health care insurers, such as Medicare, cover only a por on of the cost of a veteran’s emergency treatment. Even a er Congress clarified its intent in 2009, the VA refused to change its regula on to make it consistent with what Congress said. VA con nued to deny requests for reimbursement from veterans for emergency medical expenses, if they had other insurance that covered a por on of the medical bill. Oddly, the VA did pay emergency medical expense claims for veterans who had no insurance. Plain ff Richard W. Staab is an Air Force veteran who served honorably from November 1952 to November 1956. He received the Na onal Defense Service Medal, the Korean Service Medal, the United Na ons Service Medal, and the Good Conduct Medal. His case is typical of many of the denied claims. In December 2010, Staab suffered a heart a ack that was followed by a stroke. He received cardiovascular treatment, open heart surgery, and rehabilita ve care from December 27, 2010, through December 31, 2011. He incurred expenses of $48,000 which were not covered by Medicare. Staab’s request for reimbursement of $48,000 was denied by the VA Medical Center in St. Cloud, Minn. because he had par al insurance coverage through Medicare. The veteran filed a No ce of Disagreement in May 2012. He said that he was incapacitated due to his heart a ack and stroke and was unable to secure pre‐authoriza on for non‐VA treatment, and neither he nor his family were advised to seek pre‐approval. His case then went through a variety of appeals and made it to the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims. Friday’s court win remanded Staab’s case back to the Board of Veterans Appeals, which was essen ally told by the court to authorize payment for the $48,000 for his emergency medical expenses. The judges at the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims also ruled the VA’s regula on, which had been used for years to deny veterans reimbursement, is invalid, saying in its opinion, “Further, 38 C.F.R. § 17.1002(f) is held invalid and SET ASIDE.” “The court overturned and set aside the VA’s own regula on. This means that the Department of Veterans Affairs will be forced to amend its regula ons and re‐train its staff on the rules, so other veterans who needed emergency medical care outside the VA system are not denied reimbursement, simply because they have par al secondary insurance,” said S chman. “This is a big victory for veterans and their families who have not received the reimbursement that they are legally en tled to for emergency medical expenses.” For veterans who filed reimbursement claims in the past for emergency medical care outside the VA system and were denied because they had par al secondary insurance, the ruling does not require the VA to go back to reopen past reimbursement denials. S chman believes that the veteran would have to take ac on to file a new claim and argue that the past denial was based on clear and unmistakable error. S chman believes that cases currently pending before the VA will directly benefit from the Court’s decision. A er 13 years, CIA honors Green Beret killed on secret Afghanistan mission By Thomas Gibbons‐Neff April 17 at 6:19 PM
Sgt. 1st Class Nathan Ross Chapman aboard a CH‐53 in Pakistan in November 2001. (Courtesy of Sco Sa erlee)
When Nathan Ross Chapman became the first military casualty to die by enemy fire during the war in Afghanistan, the only American flag available for his casket was a patch torn off the uniform of an airman loading his coffin for the long trip home. He was buried on Jan. 11, 2002, a week a er his death, with full military honors in Tahoma Na onal Cemetery, Wash. t took another 13 years for the CIA to recognize on its Memorial Wall that Chapman, an Army Green Beret, was also one of its own — the sergeant first class had been officially detailed to the agency in the weeks a er the 9/11 a acks and died ac ng as a CIA paramilitary team’s communica ons specialist. Chapman’s death was a watershed event for a country that didn’t know it was headed into a seemingly endless war, where the news of those lost would turn into a kind of white noise for many Americans. The first of its kind in Afghanistan, his death drew na onal a en on, including a televised funeral. Much of Chapman’s story and that of the secret agency team he was assigned to has never been told, and the agency con nues to say nothing about him. At a ceremony at CIA headquarters on May 18, 2015, the agency unveiled an engraved marble star to mark his death in the line of service, but like many others in the wall’s accompanying Book of Honor, his name was le absent. The addi on of that star for service in 2002 prompted The Post to examine the background to the honor, and why it had taken so long to be conferred. In the years a er Chapman died, the agency honored at least one other service member, a Marine officer killed in Iraq in 2007 while detailed to an agency paramilitary unit. The Marine was later memorialized with a star, yet it took more than a decade for Chapman to receive his place on the famed wall. “We didn’t even know anything was going on rela ve to that star; we didn’t expect it and we didn’t know anything about it,” Chapman’s father, Will, said during a recent interview in his home in Texas. He said the recogni on from the CIA was part of his son’s final chapter, and he was grateful for it. It also recognizes the pivotal role that Special Opera ons forces played with the CIA in the early days of the Afghan war.
Page 5 Following the memorial ceremony in 2015, CIA Director John Brennan, along with his depu es, privately met with the Chapmans on the agency’s seventh floor. He apologized for the long wait but gave no explana on for why it took more than 13 years for Chapman to get his place on the wall, the father said. “He just said it should have been done a long me ago.” The CIA declined to comment. Chapman, 31, le behind a wife, Renae, and two children, Brandon and Amanda, who, at the me, were 1 and 2 years old. Renae Chapman was unavailable to comment for this story. A veteran who jumped into Panama as a Ranger and who served in Iraq and Hai , Chapman was also a qualified combat scuba diver and sniper. Among his peers he was known as a consummate professional and as the life of the party with a penchant for quo ng Arnold Schwarzenegger movies. Chapman had transferred back to Fort Lewis, Wash., from Okinawa just before the Sept. 11, 2001, a acks. “America’s going to war over this,” he told his father in the weeks that followed. “And they’re not going without me.” “And then he was gone,” the elder Chapman recalled.
Le er from Nate Chapman to home. Wri en in Panama circa 1990 on piece of cardboard that was duct taped shut and mailed. (courtesy Chapman family) An unconven onal team of elites Built like a linebacker with a square jaw, narrow eyes and a sly smile, Chapman went to war as a member of what the CIA called Team Hotel — a six‐man unit composed of three Special Forces soldiers, two CIA paramilitary officers and a CIA contractor. Chapman and two other Green Berets were selected from more than 1,300 soldiers in 1st Special Forces Group. For their mission in Afghanistan, the CIA needed communica ons specialists and medics, and almost immediately following the 9/11 a acks it tapped 1st Group to help fill that requirement, said Lt. Gen. David Fridovich, who was, at the me, the group’s commander and a colonel. Chapman’s assignment to Hotel reflected the agency’s rapidly expanding rela onship with the U.S. military, according to Henry Crumpton, the leader of the CIA’s Counterterrorism Center task force that led the war in Afghanistan. It was a rela onship born out of necessity in order to field an effec ve unconven onal force in a new and en rely unconven onal war. A er purchasing thousands of dollars in outdoor supplies from area spor ng goods stores and reques ng the weapons and equipment the team would need in Afghanistan, the six men spent the remainder of October bouncing between the CIA’s Camp Peary — be er known as The Farm — in Williamsburg, Va., and the agency’s headquarters. Chapman was responsible for assembling the team’s communica ons equipment. At the me, the process of interfacing satellite radios and computers was a new discipline, but it was something Chapman had already mastered. He was known throughout 1st Special Forces group as the best in his field, earning the reputa on during repeated deployments to places such as Thailand and Malaysia with Special Forces teams. Aside from se ng up the radios, Chapman was also instructed on a computer program called ArcView — a piece of so ware that allowed CIA and military units to see what was happening on the ba lefield in real me. “He never took himself too seriously, even with all the crap we were throwing at him,” said Ken S les, the CIA targe ng officer for all of the agency’s opera ons in Afghanistan. In the run‐up to Hotel’s departure, other CIA and Special Forces teams had already been sca ered throughout Afghanistan. Team Jawbreaker, the first element to go in, had linked up with parts of the Northern Alliance figh ng the Taliban, along with teams Bravo and Charlie. Team Echo had made contact with future Afghan president Hamid Karzai. In December, teams Juliet and Romeo would go into Tora Bora, hoping to corner Osama bin Laden in the craggy mountain passes near the Pakistan border. But before Hotel would join its sister elements in Afghanistan, Chapman and the rest of the team would first fly to Jacobabad, Pakistan. The team soon began trying to work a deal with the Pakistani military to get to their side of the border south of the Afghan city of Jalalabad in an a empt to box in and find bin Laden, according to Sco Sa erlee, a Special Forces medic detailed to Hotel with Chapman. With the Pakistani military demanding more training and equipment than the small team was able to provide and offering li le knowledge of
Page 6 the lawless border region where Hotel was trying to go, the deal fell through. As things unraveled in Pakistan, Afghan forces, their path paved by devasta ng U.S. airstrikes, seized Kabul. Just days a er Thanksgiving, Team Hotel le Pakistan for Afghanistan’s capital. Hotel would stay in Kabul for roughly a month, spending Christmas there. A detachment of operators from Joint Special Opera ons Command, or JSOC, would bring the team to 11 members for an upcoming mission in Khost, a rugged town on Afghanistan’s eastern border. Christmas was the last me Chapman called home, his father recalled. He didn’t tell them where he was, just that he was safe. He passed the phone around to his mother Lynn, and to Keith Chapman, his older brother who was recently married. His grandmother and grandfather also managed to get on the line. “I said to him at the end of the conversa on, I’m sorry you’re not able to be with your family,” his father said. “I know, Dad,” he replied. “But I’m with my second family, and they’re a great bunch of guys.”
A copy of this pain ng was given to the Chapman family and signed by members of Team Hotel following Chapman’s death. It depicts a standard CIA opera on in the early days of the war in Afghanistan (Courtesy of James Dietz) Behind enemy lines Roughly a week later, Hotel loaded onto one of the CIA’s Russian‐built Mi‐17 helicopters and flew the 90 miles to Khost. According to Sa erlee, the agency had to pay its way into the town, offering large sums of money to one of the tribes in exchange for admission and some protec on. Hotel would go in and “plant the flag” for the CIA and deny al‐Qaeda a base of opera ons, according to a CIA officer present during the team’s opera ons who spoke on the condi on of anonymity to discuss a covert opera on. They were the first Americans there since the war began. The team set up, along with some of their newly acquired Afghan escorts, a rudimentary base of opera ons in an old Russian schoolhouse in the middle of town during the final days of the year. The night before Chapman’s death, a small four‐man element from Hotel slipped into the darkness to conduct reconnaissance on an abandoned Soviet airfield a few miles away, returning a er taking small‐arms fire. The airfield would later be named a er Chapman and was the site of a suicide bombing that killed seven CIA employees in 2009. The next morning, cold and cloudless, Hotel’s team leader along with a senior CIA officer who had been sent to the area held a mee ng with some of the tribal leaders at a nearby abandoned government building. The mee ng started poorly, according to the CIA officer. The tribe’s representa ves erupted into heated argument, but a er tea and a pledge by the CIA to help rebuild the town, the mee ng closed on somewhat good terms, said the officer. That a ernoon, Hotel loaded into four white Toyota HiLux pickup trucks along with a handful of Afghan escorts and headed to what they thought was an al‐Qaeda safe house located in town. The agency had intercepted communica ons coming from the building. “Us being there wasn’t accomplishing anything, besides maybe ge ng us into more trouble,” Sa erlee said. The team got back in their trucks and headed down one of the only paved roads in Khost. As they came into town, the road turned into a wash. The first three trucks went down and out and headed back toward the schoolhouse. As the fourth truck dipped into the culvert, now roughly a hundred yards away from the next vehicle in the convoy, three men opened up with Kalashnikovs, each dumping their en re magazines into the last truck from roughly 30 feet away. In that truck’s bed was Chapman, a CIA paramilitary officer and the team’s lone CIA contractor. An Afghan was driving. Two rounds slammed into the paramilitary officer’s chest, tearing through his extra ammuni on magazines and his so body armor. The bullet that killed Chapman sha ered his pelvis and severed his femoral artery. It was unclear who returned fire, said Sa erlee, but when they inventoried Chapman’s gear later that day, the magazine in his M4 carbine was empty with its bolt locked to the rear — evidence that he had expended every round he could before collapsing from blood loss. Chapman and the paramilitary officer slumped down, and the Afghan driver gunned it, making it back to the schoolhouse in just over a minute and a half. By the me Sa erlee and the rest of the team got to the back of the truck, it was awash in Chapman’s blood, and he was unconscious. With the agency’s lumbering Mi‐17 transport helicopter flying from Kabul — a roughly 45‐minute flight from Khost — the team worked furiously to keep Chapman alive. Sa erlee did the best he could by stuffing the wound with gauze while another team member knelt on Chapman’s navel. But five minutes before the Russian helicopter touched down in a wheat field next to the school, Chapman stopped breathing. The paramilitary officer, although severely injured with mul ple sucking chest wounds, would survive. Sa erlee helped slide Chapman into his sleeping bag and loaded him into the back of the helicopter. It was 5 p.m. on Jan. 4, 2002. It is unclear exactly who shot Chapman and why. According to Sa erlee, the gunmen were part of one of the tribes trying to extort more money from the Americans for protec on, while the CIA officer interviewed for this ar cle said they were possibly linked to the Haqqanis — a powerful fac on that had already sworn to fight the United States and would con nue to fight U.S. troops for years to come. “He always knew how to find his way into the ac on,” his father said. “That’s why he went in the military, to do this stuff. … But he knew the risk involved.” The Army awarded Chapman a Bronze Star with a V for valor, and the CIA would posthumously give him an intelligence star, according to his father. The U.S. Special Forces Associa on in Thailand renamed itself a er Chapman, and a mural of the slain Green Beret adorns the wall of its headquarters. “The mys que went away, and reality showed up when Nate died,” said his former teammate, Sgt. 1st Class Jason Koehler. “It took the Superman T‐shirt from every one of us who thought we were invincible.”
Page 7 These Elite Troops Spent 15 Years At War. This Program Tries To Prepare Their Minds And Bodies For The Next 15. As the ba le against extremists widens, the U.S. is relying on special opera ons forces more than ever. 04/19/2016 05:10 am ET David WoodSenior Military Correspondent, The Huffington Post
A member of the 2nd Marine Special Opera ons Ba alion readies his weapon near a suspected Taliban loca on in Afghanistan. NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE COMMAND, Coronado, Calif. — With no fanfare, U.S. special opera ons commandos head out on long, dangerous and secre ve missions to snatch or kill militants or to advise allies in combat. They shoot it out with ISIS extremists in Syria or spend months tracking al‐Shabab in Somalia. And then they come home from months at war — some mes with blood s ll on their boots, one officer said — and quietly slide into bed beside their wives, exhausted and grim‐faced. They say nothing and begin preparing for the next mission. But a er 15 years of war and no end in sight, even the toughest men — they’re almost all men — can falter. “Our people need help with mending their mind, body and spirit,” Army Lt. Gen. Tony Thomas wrote to Congress last month, shortly before he was confirmed to lead the U.S. Special Opera ons Command, which oversees all U.S. special opera ons forces. It was a rare public acknowledgement of the pressures these “operators,” in military parlance, are under. But it was not the military’s first recogni on of the problem. For several years, SOCOM has been taking extraordinary steps to restore and strengthen its operators’ ba ered physical and mental condi on. They are wrestling with ques ons as old as warfare itself: How can the human body be developed to absorb the repeated physical punishment of combat and s ll perform far above the ordinary? How can even elite warriors endure the cumula ve effects on mind and spirit of extreme stress and con nual exposure to death and destruc on? How can the damage to their wives and kids be prevented or healed? The answers will help determine how the United States fares in the long war against Islamic State militants and other extremists. In recent conversa ons, most operators, spouses and support staff — at the Naval Special Warfare Command in Coronado, California; the 1st Marine Raider Ba alion compound in Camp Pendleton, California; the Army’s 10th Special Forces Group at Fort Carson, Colorado; and Air Force special opera ons units — asked not to be iden fied by name and declined to be photographed. But they spoke openly about the pain and costs of their lives. “Our first three years [of marriage] he was gone 30 months,” one woman said of her husband, a special opera ons officer. She recalled fondly that she’d fallen for him because of his laugh. But one day she realized he hadn’t laughed for years. Their life, she said, “was all about the mission. Our 3‐year‐old cried herself to sleep every night for four months, crying that ‘my daddy doesn’t love me, my daddy can’t find me!’” Once, home a er a long and difficult combat deployment and in the middle of an argument with her, she said, “he jumped out of the car and ran across four lanes of highway and jumped a fence and took off.” Shocked, she sat there wondering, ‘Where do I find him? What do I tell the children? How do I go on?’ In another conversa on, a 29‐year‐old pilot wept when describing recent missions in which noncombatants were caught “in the wrong place at the wrong me.” “We were trying to do the right thing,” he said, “but the situa ons are so complex and dynamic that we cannot — everything is … not good.” He’s been in treatment for depression, he said, for seven months. But the mission doesn’t stop while men heal. Even at a steady pace of deployment, there aren’t enough operators to meet demand. Two operators in their 50s are s ll being sent downrange. And the pace of deployments is accelera ng, with new ba legrounds in Syria and Libya. A few years ago, alarms went off. As Adm. William McRaven took command of SOCOM back in 2011, a fat report landed on his desk. A legendarily tough Navy SEAL commander, McRaven had led the team that captured Saddam Hussein and later supervised the effort to track down and kill Osama bin Laden. But this report le him deeply troubled. It was a global survey of the 69,000 special operators and support staff, plus their families, detailing the wear and tear of what was then a decade at war. The report was anecdotal but substan al: widespread instances of divorce, domes c violence, drunk driving, depression and sleep problems; outbreaks of angry violence; chronic physical ailments and pain. Suicides rocked the community. And funerals seemed constant: Since 2001, 471 special operators have been killed in ac on and 3,745 have been wounded, many le struggling with trauma c brain injury. “The salient point was that the force was frayed, but I recognized that the study had started 18 months earlier,” McRaven, now chancellor of the University of Texas system, told me. Almost certainly the situa on had go en worse, he thought. “We were asking guys to go back into hard combat much more frequently. The report had recommenda ons, and I turned to my staff and said we’re gonna implement every one of these and as quickly as we can.”
U.S. ARMY PHOTO BY VISUAL INFORMATION SPECIALIST JASON JOHNSTON A soldier assigned to 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne) free‐falls a er jumping out of a C‐130 Hercules aircra over Germany. What McRaven launched has become a $39 million campaign called Preserva on of the Force and Family. Known by its ungainly acronym, POTFF, the program has inserted psychologists, family counselors, exercise physiologists and other specialists into the daily rou nes of the special forces community. Their mission is preven ve maintenance, catching and resolving problems before they become chronic — and healing them as quickly as possible when maintenance fails. “We are the high‐speed pit crew,” said a Marine counselor. “We don’t wait un l you’re broken and taken out of the game.” But it’s not easy to convince these men, who depend on their ability to stare down fear and suck up pain, to come home and sit down with a family counselor or mental health specialist. There’s a s gma a ached to admi ng weakness and acknowledging you need help, said Terri Ann Naughton, a licensed clinical social worker on the behavioral health team at the Army’s 10th Special Forces Group. SOCOM surveys indicate, for instance, that about 14 percent of special
Page 8 operators have high or moderate post‐trauma c stress. But Naughton said, “I don’t think we see even that percentage un l they are off or moving off the team. They get by with intes nal for tude, keeping it together un l it’s me they can’t.” “We’re pre y good at hiding things,” admi ed a veteran Green Beret named Jimmy, who was recently shot in the leg and returned to duty almost immediately, “because we want to be on the big mish [mission].” So reducing the s gma is a key goal of the SOCOM ini a ve. That’s why chaplains and psychologists are housed together with the troops, so that a guy seeking mental health counseling doesn’t have to make the long “perp walk” up the street past his buddies to the therapist’s office. He can just drop in next door. The right‐here approach is embedded in what SOCOM calls “third loca on decompression,” an idea prac ced sporadically in the past and now ins tu onalized across the special opera ons community. A unit returning from a combat tour is diverted somewhere — Spain, Germany or Hawaii — for several days of rest and mandatory closed‐door one‐on‐one mee ngs with a physician, a psychologist and a chaplain. There are briefings on the warning signs of combat stress and trauma c brain injury, and guidance on how to readjust sleep and dietary pa erns and ease the reintegra on with the family. Everybody goes, no excep ons. “In my humble opinion, this was the program that by far was able to address the ugly elephant in the room, called s gma,” Navy Cmdr. Eric Po erat, chief clinical psychologist for all Navy SEALs, told me. Military personnel outside the special opera ons community have access to physical and mental health resources, too. But what special operators and their families get is close and intense. The SOCOM psychologists, licensed clinical social workers, exercise physiologists, nutri onists, family counselors, human performance specialists and chaplains are carefully selected and interviewed by the receiving units before they’re hired. Once in place, they work alongside the operators at the gym, in training, in staff mee ngs. The program is geared to what special operators really care about: performance. Every unit has a master nutri onist, for instance, who monitors the operators’ intake and modifies it for different missions. Psychologists use biofeedback and emWavetechnology to adjust sleep and exercise pa erns and improve mental focus. At one training facility recently, a sports physiologist was teaming up with a strength condi oning coach to work with an operator who had a minor shoulder injury, a nutri onist was conferring with a soldier who felt he was underperforming, and a mental performance specialist was working with other operators to build concentra on. In the midst of weightli ing, a trainer no ced that one operator seemed distracted, not his usual upbeat self. Almost immediately, he was si ng with a behavioral health specialist whose office is a two‐minute walk away. She learned there had been a suicide in his family; he met with the chaplain and stayed in counseling through that crisis. Much of the work that physical and mental specialists do aims at helping operators make the transi on from the peak performance and total focus of missions to the needed relaxa on at home, said Joan Cook, a psychologist with the Air Force Special Opera ons Command at Hurlburt Field, Florida. “I see a lot of fa gue and burnout and sleep problems and irritability, numbness — I can see it in them a er they’re in the unit a year or so,” Cook said. The hyper‐vigilance necessary for missions literally hinders post‐deployment relaxa on because of the stress hormones, primarily adrenaline and cor sol, coursing through the body. Cook urges the men to exercise, which burns off stress hormones, and to breathe. “People think breathing is ridiculous, but when you’re oxygena ng, it shuts down the cor sol pump,” she said. Other techniques are also cri cal to stress reduc on. “When we look under the hood for the a ributes that make someone more stress tolerant, they’re using the same techniques that athletes use to control the stress response,” said Po erat. “So we teach it — visualiza on. Posi ve self‐talk. Arousal control, goal se ng, compartmentaliza on, diaphragma c breathing.” The on‐site care applies as well to those recovering from physical injuries. When regular troops are wounded, they are o en excused from normal duty un l they recover. But inside special opera ons forces, anyone injured is kept within the unit and immediately enveloped by specialists who offer individualized physical therapy, strength condi oning and diet. Using that approach, the 2nd Marine Raider Ba alion saved 7,280 man hours over three years, compared to a non‐special opera ons ba alion that lacked embedded staff and had to sideline injured Marines.
U.S. ARMY PHOTO BY SPC. JESSE LAMORTE/SPECIAL OPERATIONS TASK FORCE‐SOUTH Soldiers with Special Opera ons Task Force‐South load an all‐terrain vehicle onto a CH‐47 Chinook helicopter during opera ons in Kandahar Province, Afghanistan. A er four years, the campaign that McRaven began seems to be having a posi ve effect across the special opera ons community. The emphasis on performance and the use of embedded specialists has reduced the s gma of asking for help, said Navy Capt. John Dooli le, director of the Preserva on of the Force and Family program. Since 2011, the number of special operators in regular mental health treatment has risen 77 percent. The special opera ons community “is obviously growing to trust these resources and providers a li le more with every passing month,” Dooli le said. Or to put it more bluntly, “Guys don’t [sneak] out the back door of my office anymore,” said one therapist. The suicide rate has also dropped markedly. Reten on rates are in the 80th and 90th percen les. But the reality remains that for operators and their families, the burden of war me deployments con nues without end. “We were all s ll pre y shell‐shocked that it [the war] was just going on and on, and everyone had their lives on hold — and then there was this mass dawning on everyone that this wasn’t going to end and we need to come together and move on,” said the former wife of a Navy SEAL. It was already too late for her marriage. She and her husband were divorced a er he was assigned to nine back‐to‐back combat deployments. Holding marriages and families together is a key goal of the program McRaven set in mo on — again, for prac cal reasons: A healthy family at home enables special operators to focus on the mission.
Page 9 Living this life is not easy, and modern communica ons that link right to the war zone can make things worse. Families can hook up on Skype. “Which is great,” a spouse said, “un l suddenly there’s an a ack going down and the kids are hearing, ‘FIRE FOR EFFECT, FIRE FOR EFFECT!!” And the lights dim and shit’s falling everywhere and your kids are crying, like … it’s not so great then.” She eventually concluded that dealing with stress is not something you can do by yourself. She cau ously a ended group therapy and then began working one on one with a psychologist. “I learned that there’s a whole set of tools to deal with this stuff,” she said. Her children, too, were taught how to use techniques such as thought distor on: Instead of thinking “Daddy’s posi on is going to be overrun,” they can say to themselves, “No, my daddy’s well trained and prepared.” Eventually her husband joined in. Besides group and individual counseling, there are retreats, seminars and summer camp for kids, who are o en consumed with worry about their dads. In the children’s programs, said a special forces psychologist, “they learn to recognize that they’re not alone, that there’s other people in the community with similar experiences, and that without you, this wouldn’t be possible.” And they reminded that “their service members are heroes,” said an operator’s spouse. “They don’t get that at [public] school. They don’t get that at home — moms are just trying to get dishes put away, kids bathed, trash taken out. They’re not really li ing their dad up on pedestals — there’s no me.” As evidence that the s gma here is also fading — with some command help — a senior special opera ons officer once abruptly le a staff mee ng by announcing that it was me for him and his wife to meet with their family counselor. “He wanted to make sure his guys saw him do that,” his wife told me.
MARY F. CALVERT Capt. Ma Lampert of the Marine Raiders currently teaches at the U.S. Naval Academy. Though he lost both legs in an IED blast in Afghanistan in 2010, rehab returned him to combat duty by 2012. Despite the posi ve reviews, however, much remains undone — for reasons of pride, tradi on, lack of me and the relentless schedule of deployments. “We’re just seeing the p of the iceberg,” a Marine therapist said. Ma Lampert, a 29‐year‐old Marine Raider captain, was leading a detachment in Afghanistan in 2010 when an IED blast in Helmand Province tore off both of his legs. Medevaced home, he pushed through punishing rehab, learning to func on with prosthe cs. By 2012, back on ac ve duty, he again deployed in combat with his unit in Afghanistan. It’s a miraculous and well‐known story of grit and courage, but there’s much more to it. Not for another two years did Lampert begin to realize that he’d neglected his mental health. That he wasn’t sleeping, that he was short‐tempered and irritable. Underperforming. “I’d been focused on the physical, the skills you need and restructuring your life — where cars are parked and who picks up the groceries and how do you get around, all this task‐oriented stuff,” he told me. The challenges of his physical recovery “masked all this accumulated stress, and for the first couple of years I didn’t no ce that weight.” Checking in with the ba alion’s mental health specialists in 2014 “took a li le leap of trust. But the barriers were lower because they are part of our team. I’m not ge ng a tracking number at some huge hospital. These people are in ba alion staff mee ngs si ng across from me every day,” he said. What they helped him uncover was the anger, guilt and shame le over from that IED blast: He felt that it was his fault for not spo ng the hidden bomb, that being medevaced home meant leaving his Marines without their leader. The therapists helped him discover reserves of resilience he hadn’t yet tapped. “Having those people interac ng with me on an almost daily basis, in a working or personal basis — they’re there when I’m ready even if that’s years later,” Lampert said. “That’s tremendously unique.” Behind such stories, of course, is the rigorous weeding‐out process for special forces applicants. Among other screenings and tests, they undergo psychological profiling, which a empts to iden fy such personal a ributes as tolerance for adversity. Those who remain have what researchers call a high degree of hardiness: the ability not merely to endure hardship with gri ed teeth, but to “adjust and adapt” to changed circumstances, according to Paul T. Bartone, a psychologist who was part of a consultant team that laid the groundwork for the SOCOM program. A “high‐hardy” person, Bartone explained, enjoys challenges, is confident in his problem‐solving ability, has a sense of control over his environment and is mo vated to learn. While “hardiness is not op mism,’’ Bartone said, high‐hardy people “see life as meaningful and worthwhile, even though it is some mes painful and disappoin ng.” But the inevitable setbacks of war — opera ons go bad, buddies are wounded or killed, civilians die — can undermine even the hardiest. “It’s common for these guys to blame themselves when things don’t go exactly how they expect,” said one chaplain with a Marine special forces ba alion. “We have to work really hard with that because it’s related to the moral injuries we see in guys, an excessive sense of personal responsibility for stuff that is not necessarily within their control.” That they have killed emerges as a subtext to all the mental stress of combat. “Guys will come into my office and close the door and talk for hours about that and what it does to them, and some of them will try to put on the stoic — you know, it doesn’t affect them that they killed 32 bad guys on that last deployment or whatever,” said Army Col. Wayne Surre , ba alion surgeon to the 10th Special Forces Group. “That’s fine, but I think it absolutely affects the way they look at the world, whether it jades them, makes them more callous.” Surre said he could not think of anyone who had expressed regret or remorse over killing to him. “There’s an emo onal detachment,” he said. Lampert, who currently teaches leadership at the U.S. Naval Academy as an ac ve‐duty Marine officer, looks at it slightly differently. More than
Lacking basic gear, special operators stuck buying their own equipment By Travis J. Tri en Stars and Stripes Published: February 25, 2016 WASHINGTON – Sean Matson, who recently le ac ve‐duty as a Navy SEAL, said the military measured his head four mes – each me before deployment – with plans to provide him a more advanced ballis c helmet.
Page 10 But the new helmet never materialized. During a deployment in Africa, Matson and six of his fellow SEALs each shelled out about $900 for updated helmets that held the lights, communica ons devices and ba eries needed for their missions. “There was never a clear solu on to it, so guys were going out spending $800‐$900 on their own ballis c helmet,” said Matson, who is now CEO of the military supply company Matbock. Elite troops such as the SEALs are more and more forced to dip into their own pockets to purchase basic military gear such as helmets, global posi oning devices and medical supplies, according to Matson and others involved in the military’s unofficial civilian‐side supply network who came to Capitol Hill on Thursday. House lawmakers have taken no ce and said they will request an explana on from Defense Secretary Ash Carter. “These are the guys we assume have the best gear all the me,” said Rep. Duncan Hunter, R‐Calif., a Marine Corps combat veteran. Hunter said special opera ons troops have been approaching him in his California district complaining about the inability to get needed materials and he has been inves ga ng the issue. Numerous individual instances point to a systemic problem in the military’s supply chain but a blind spot exists between Defense Department vendors and the troops who need the gear and supplies, Hunter said. “It’s been impossible for me to find out how the money is ge ng stopped and why it is not going down to where it’s supposed to be,” he said. Aaron Negherbon is the execu ve director of the nonprofit group Troops Direct, which ships needed and requested supplies – from boot laces to tablet devices ‐‐ to servicemembers who cannot get it through their commands. Less than two days a er the a ack on the U.S. embassy in Benghazi, Libya, Negherbon said he was contacted by the commander of a Marine Corps Fleet An ‐Terrorism Security Team that was being deployed there. The commander told him the team lacked a variety of crucial equipment, including sniper supplies, he said. “They came to us for…ba eries because they didn’t have any of those … It is kind of like, ‘What the heck is going on?’” Negherbon said. He said troops o en have to buy their own medical equipment such as tourniquets, and shell out about $1,000 each for their own helmets or $500 for a GPS device that they need for duty during a deployment. “The ques on is, why can’t you get this?” Negherbon said. O en the answer seems to be a higher command does not have the money budgeted or the equipment was approved but not available from vendors. “That is a good thing, we know where the problem is but [those issues] are very profound,” he said. A small group of House Republican lawmakers gathered Thursday to hear the concerns. Rep. Adam Kinzinger, R‐Ill., an Air Force combat veteran, said the military has to weigh the concerns of supplying needed equipment with the desire of troops to always have the newest gear on the market. S ll, Kinzinger said the shor alls in the supply chain could become a major issue if deployments ramp up again to the levels seen during the height of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. Rep. Chris Gibson, R‐N.Y., an Army veteran, said the group should write a le er to Carter, saying they have serious concerns about supply breakdowns, including the inability of Matson and his fellow SEALs to get helmets capable of moun ng lights, though the equipment was approved. “If you’ve got a situa on where unit is approved for an Ops‐Core [brand ballis c] helmet and it’s not ge ng it, we need to understand what the problem is … that is unacceptable,” he said.
In a 2007 file photo, a U.S. Special Opera ons Forces member prepares his gear for an evening mission in western Iraq. ELI J. MEDELLIN/U.S. NAVY
The 9/11 Living Memorial Plaza The 9/11 Living Memorial Plaza is a cenotaph located on a hill in Arazim Valley of Ramot, Jerusalem. The plaza, built on 5 acres (2.0 ha), is to remember and honor the vic ms of the September 11 a acks. The cenotaph measures 30 feet and is made of granite, bronze and aluminum. It takes the form of an American flag, waving and transforming into a flame at the p. A piece of melted metal from the ruins of the Twin Towers forms part of the base on which the monument rests. A glass pane over the metal facilitates viewing. The names of the vic ms, including five Israeli ci zens, are embedded on the metal plate and placed on the circular wall. The monument is strategically located within view of Jerusalem's main cemetery, Har HaMenuchot. The folded part of the flag is reminiscent of the collapse of the towers in a cloud of dust. The flag morphs into a six‐meter high memorial flame representa ve of a torch. It is the first monument outside of the United States which lists the names of the nearly 3,000 vic ms of the 9/11 a acks. The opening date was November 12, 2009.
Page 11 Robert McLaren Removed His Own Appendix In The Jungle!.... This guy is made of sterner stuff than most of us mere mortals.
( Outdoor Revival )
By 1942, Robert “Jock” McLaren had already escaped from a prison camp in Singapore, fought for weeks with local guerrillas, been betrayed to the Japanese by a double‐crossing comrade, and been interned in a high‐security prison camp in Borneo. Books have been wri en about less. But McLaren was just ge ng started. McLaren had been a teenage cavalryman during the First World War, before immigra ng to Australia and se ling down to a quiet life in Queensland. When the Second World War broke out, the middle‐aged veterinarian was one of the first to sign up. Captured by the Japanese a er the Fall of Malaya, McLaren staged his first breakout from Singapore’s notorious Changi prison. His recapture didn’t dent his determina on to escape. The move to Borneo just meant he was that much closer to home. He quickly teamed up with someone as determined to escape as he was—a local Chinese man known as Johnny Funk, who had been brutally tortured by the Japanese. Together, Jock and Johnny broke out of prison and trekked to the coast. They then island‐hopped for 430 kilometers (270 mi) across the Pacific in a hollowed‐out log, figh ng running ba les with the Japanese along the way, before landing safely on the Philippine island of Mindanao. Unfortunately, the island had already fallen to the Japanese. And McLaren had developed appendici s. Hunted by the Japanese and with no way to reach a doctor, McLaren had to make a desperate decision. He had a mirror, a sharp pocketknife, some jungle fibers to s tch the wound, and absolutely no anesthe c. He was going to have to take the appendix out himself. The opera on took four and a half hours. Years later, when receiving the Military Cross, McLaren was asked about the opera on. His answer was predictably laconic. “It was hell,” he said, “but I came through all right.” Two days a er the surgery, McLaren was on his feet fleeing the Japanese again. He spent the rest of the war as a guerrilla in the Philippines, most of it in command of an old whaling boat called The Bastard. He packed the boat full of mortars and machine guns and used it to sail into heavily guarded Japanese ports, spray bullets everywhere, and then run for it before anyone could work out what was going on. Despite a huge reward, he was never caught, possibly because everyone was terrified of the notorious rebel leader known to leave severed appendixes in his wake.
“I am a witness to history”. “I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Ki y wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her na ve Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one‐third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent infla on and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Chris an woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big ke le of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecu on of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety‐eight percent of the popula on voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Ki y, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “A er the elec on, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able‐bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re‐ quired to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious educa on for kids “Our educa on was na onalized. I a ended a very good public school.. The popula on was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical educa on. “Sunday became Na onal Youth Day with compulsory a endance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were
Page 12 told that if they did not send us, they would receive a s ff le er of warning the first me. The second me they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third me they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of poli cal indoctrina on. The rest of the day we had sports. As me went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful me we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Ki y. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no poli cal indoctrina on. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that me, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As me went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanis c philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was ra oned and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same me, a full‐employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ra on card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and o en had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon a er this, the dra was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Ki y. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be an ‐aircra gunners and par cipated in the signal corps. A er the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emo onal cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid a ack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around‐the‐clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole genera on of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this me, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “A er Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already wai ng and, at the same me, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elec ve surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors le Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and educa on were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tui on was subsidized. Everyone was en tled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother‐in‐law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have addi onal bathroom facili es. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protec on, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essen ally abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were some mes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others ge ng into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an ins tu on where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a li le clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As me passed, le ers started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people le in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registra on. People were ge ng injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we s ll had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most ci zens were law‐abiding and du fully marched to the police sta on to register their firearms. Not long a erwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authori es already knew who had them, so it was fu le not to comply voluntarily.
Page 13 “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 un l 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, li le by li le eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “A er America, there is no place to go.” Ki y Werthmann Vietnam War Remembrance Ceremony Vietnam War Remembrance Ceremony At 10:30 am, May 7th, 2016The Airborne & Special Opera ons Museum Founda on with their presen ng sponsor Select Bank & Trust will host the first Vietnam War Remembrance Ceremony in the Museum’s Parade field.Guest speakers include General (Re red) James Lindsay and Colonel (Re red) Ken Smith.This ceremony honors and thanks all veterans, all services of the Vietnam War and will highlightone US Army Airborne or Special Opera ons unit.The Ground Forces Band will provide the music for the event; the invoca on/benedic on by Chaplain Jon Cone Sr. from the Cumberland County Veterans Council; Color Guard from the Johnson County Vietnam Veterans of America; Missing man table from Rolling Thunder Chapter 1, NC; and a special pinning ceremony of all Vietnam Veterans present from the Cumberland County Veterans Council.The highlighted unit this year will be the 173D Airborne Brigade (Separate) and the unit’s colors will be on display from the local chapter of the 173D Associa on (Chapter 5).To Register to A end, contact:Airborne & Special Opera ons Museum Founda on 100 Bragg Blvd., Faye eville, NC 28301(910) 643‐2778 [email protected] Airborne & Special Opera ons Museum Founda on supports the museum with marke ng, adver sing and financial support for its programs and exhibits. Opening the doors on August 16th, 2000, the 60th anniversary of the original United States Army’s Test Platoon’s first parachute jump, the museum offers free admission, a main exhibit gallery, temporary gallery, four‐story tall theater, video theater and a mo on simulator ride. It is located in Historic Downtown Faye eville on the corner of Bragg Boulevard and Hay Street, adjacent to the city’s Freedom Memorial Park and the recently built North Carolina Veteran’s Park. The main gallery is designed as a self‐guiding tour, in chronological order, through the history of the airborne and special opera ons soldiers, from 1940 to the present. The temporary gallery changes throughout the year and displays a myriad of exhibits pertaining to the United States Army, airborne and special opera on units through their history and conflicts from World War II to the present. For a nominal fee visitors can ride the 24 seat mo on simulator. Mike Cassidy’s Nepal Airborne Jump Trip This trip was supposed to be last year but a devasta ng earthquake hit Nepal killing 9000 and injuring 22000 and it was rescheduled for this April 1st was able to get on board with the Interna onal Airborne Society again for one of their foreign jumps and found myself at Seatac ge ng on an Emirates 777 on an arc c routed flight to Dubai. The flight flew over western Russia and then south over the full length of Iran and into Dubai, A 5hour layover and then another flight over India into Kathmandu, Nepal. About 18 hours of flying! A er ge ng visa and clearing customs at 11:30 pm I grabbed a cab for the hotel. The power was out in Kathmandu so all the streets (alleys!) were dark narrow and creepy, I definitely figured that I was going to get rolled at the next stop. I was surprised when the cab stopped and the horn sounded that a gang didn’t jump out and drag me out, instead a gate opened and we drove into the hotel courtyard! A er checking in I met some of the guys we were going to jump with including a guy that I’d jumped with in South America. The next day was walking around in Kathmandu and looking for a source for Kukris and later that evening a beer and pizza party at the US Embassy courtesy of the Marine detachment. A er a good night’s sleep it was me for the Nepali Para Commando jump school. We started with some PT, numerous PLFs, a run and then the 35 foot tower. This was all followed up with a tour of the riggers shed, Female rigger did a flawless job on those chutes which we were to use the next day. The following day we boarded a Russian Antonov 28 (Skytruck) and headed south to Meghauli, Nepal. Temperature on landing was 107 degrees and humidity about 98percent, Ge ng rigged up and checked in that heat was like taking a hot shower! I knew with that air density that we would fall a lot faster than normal and I tried to explain that to the guys but no one believed me –un l we jumped! We made two jumps and then got on elephants and toured the jungle park of Chitwan Na onal Park. Rhinos, deer, Jackals and a spo ed Asian cat were some of the game we saw, the elephant tour was followed up with a dugout canoe ride down the river and then back to the lodge for several Gurkha beers. We were back to the airstrip for the awarding of the para‐commando wings and the presenta on of kukris. If you want foreign wings I strongly suggest Interna onal Airborne Socie es jumps.
Mike & Re red Group Shot Mike & Female NCO’s Mike & Jumpmas‐ Mike , Jumpmaster & friend Elephant Tour Mike on Elephant Gurkhas
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Chapter XVI Special Forces Associa on Quartermasters Store
The Quartermasters Store has Special Forces Crest Uniform and Blazer Bu ons for Sale. They can replace the Army Dress Uniform or the SF Associa on Blazer Bu ons. They really look sharp. The Bu ons are $5.00 a piece. A set of 4 Large and 6 small are $50.00. If you would like them mailed there is a shipping and handling cost of $4.50. We also have a number of other Items of SF interest. We also have SF T‐Shirts, hats, jackets, SFA Flashes, SF Door Knockers, Belt Buckles, Money clips and numerous other Items of Special Forces interest.
1st SFG(A) Ar facts
The current 1st SFG(A) Commander is solici ng support from former 1st SFG(A) unit members for dona on of ar facts that could be displayed in the units Regimental Mess area at Fort Lewis. He has his PAO officer working on the project and he is asking for items that could be secured in display cabinets for viewing by guests who use the facility for ceremonies, re rements and other ac vi es. Hank Cramer is planning to donate some uniform items that his dad wore in Vietnam and others from SFA Chapter and First In Asia Associa on are pu ng out feelers to our community. If interested, please contact Major Jason Waggoner at [email protected]
Looking For Historical 10th SFG(A) Items ‐ Assistance Requested ‐ for Group Foyer POCs: SSG Ryan Sabin OR Andy Tyler Public Affairs NCOIC [email protected] 10th SFG (A) 719‐524‐4528 [email protected] We are looking for any historical items and photos that will cover the following areas. I a ached the history outline that we will be following. These items will be used in the HHC foyer and we are trying to tell the 10th SFG(A) story. ‐ 1952‐ Ac va on of 10th SFG (A) ‐ 1953‐ Bad Tolz ‐ 1954‐1955 Authoriza on of the wear of the Green Beret ‐ 1962‐ CPT Roger Pezzelle Trojan Horse Unit Insignia ‐ SF Soldiers opera ng in; western and eastern Europe, clandes ne organiza ons in England, France, Norway, Germany, Greece, Spain, Italy, Turkey, Pakistan, Iran, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia. ‐ Fort Devens ‐ JOINT ENDEAVOR and PROVIDE COMFORT ‐ Opera on Desert Storm ‐ Panzer Kaserne ‐ Task Force Viking
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I am delighted to invite you to join me in I am looking forward to seeing you all enjoy celebra ng the recent publica on of my and share my work. book. Titled “To Order” Captain Ron Books will be sold for $66.00 + $20.00 Flying Life’s Longitudes and Latitudes Shipping. The book Explores the fascina ng life and Call (253) 670‐2760 Or mes of Ron Rismon. E‐mail: [email protected] Page 16