Community Corner

What We Owe Our Military

Inspirational words from Gil Sanborn, Civilian Aide to the Secretary of the Army

As Connecticut buries two more young men who died in the war against terrorism, many of us struggle to make sense of the war in which they fought. At this year's Memorial Day Ceremony in Orange the Keynote speaker was Gil Sanborn, Civilian Aide to the Secretary of the Army.

His words, especially his recollections from being in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001 (which are in italics) brought grown men to tears. He was kind enough to forward his speech to Patch so we could share it with anyone who didn't hear it.

Honored Veterans And Distinguished Officials and Citizens of Orange, thank you for inviting me to speak today at one of our most hallowed of holiday events. First, as I always do when I meet Veterans and members of our Military, let me thank you for your service to our great country.

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Today, we remember and honor members of the American Military, ordinary men and women, who died while in military service. Memorial Day is not to be a day of solemn mourning, but a day of reverent celebration. But I also believe it should be a day of reflection of what their service and sacrifice should mean to us as American civilians and of renewed commitment to demonstrating what we owe to them.

We are in our tenth straight year of war, the longest in our nation’s history. We are fighting these wars with an all volunteer Military which is being asked to go back to war for three and four and five deployments. And yet it is so easy for us as civilians to ignore the sacrifices which our Military makes on our behalf. We go about our daily lives and, if we don’t have someone close to us who is serving, the descriptions of battles far away and the statistics of casualties become just passing information.

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As a Civilian Aide to the Secretary of the Army, my responsibility is to represent the Secretary in the State and to look out for the interests of Soldiers and their Families. My position is a voluntary one. Like 99% of the population in the United States and most of you, I have never served in the Military. It is the one big regret I have in my life. But what I would like to do is tell you about the path that has led me over the last 10 years to devote a major part of my life to supporting our Military and their Families.

At 8:46 on a clear September morning ten years ago, my life changed forever when the floor suddenly shook violently underneath me at the same time that I heard an explosion somewhere on the other side of the building. A few seconds later, someone came running and said the WTC next to us was on fire.  We ran to the east side of our building to confront a scene of utter devastation.

Thick, ugly smoke poured out of the North Tower above us. Burning debris and broken glass showered down next to us. When we looked up through the smoke and flames that began to lick out from the broken windows, we saw an unimaginable sight of people leaning out of the tower, straining to get away from the inferno boiling inside.

Only minutes later, as we were looking up at the Tower, an aircraft suddenly swept in from our right, slammed into the South Tower and propelled an enormous fireball out the north side.

Every one of us is conditioned over a lifetime to understand and process a variety of sights which we might confront. But nothing, nothing though, could have prepared us for the sight of an aircraft intentionally flying into the tower above us. At that very instant, though, we knew the city was under attack and every one of us thought that our building was next.

When we climbed down the stairs and finally reached the street 19 floors below, we were met with a scene of total chaos - people running, sirens and horns blaring, burning debris falling all around us. As I turned to face the two burning towers, I began to see people jumping off the buildings, sometimes holding hands, to escape the infernos within.
I finally had to turn away.

I asked a fireman what I could do to help. He said go to Bellevue, they’ll need blood there. As I turned away with the crowds to head north, a stream of rescue workers headed in the opposite direction, south, heading into the towers. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Just a few blocks north of the towers, I began to hear the distant sound of another aircraft. I dove onto the pavement, expecting another attack. But in a split second, suddenly my ears, chest and head were consumed by an overwhelming roar and I looked up to see an F-15 screaming low above me, turning in a hard bank over the city, looking for the enemy, looking to protect us on the Streets below.

From the depths of shock, fear and sheer terror, I suddenly knew at that moment that we were safe. I suddenly understood what it meant to have the Military covering our backs.

On that day, I recognized the precious gift that those rescue workers and members of the Military, the defenders of our liberty, have given me, and I wasn't about to waste it.  

When America went to war, I wanted a direct connection to those who were going into harm’s way on my behalf. I adopted a Soldier and then a platoon and then I found my way to a U.S. Army brigade which had just deployed to Baghdad from their garrison in Schweinfurt, Germany. My family and my community of Weston adopted that Brigade and its Families and we are about to support them for a third deployment.

During their deployment, in March of 2007 my son and I went to Germany to visit the Families of the Brigade. When we were there, a battalion commander's wife asked me two questions that still send chills down my spine - She said, “Do people in the States understand what we are going through and do they care?”

 

Since that day, I have met with hundreds of Soldiers, Family members, Wounded Warriors and Next of Kin of Fallen soldiers and each time, I find myself asking the same question over and over - what do I owe these extraordinary people who have given of themselves so selflessly on my behalf?

-       On an early spring morning in 2007 at Arlington National Cemetery, I stood as the Family of Ross McGinnis laid him to rest. I watched three of his buddies, their faces wracked with pain and guilt, hug his parents, knowing that their lives had been saved by the selfless act of Ross when he placed his back against an insurgent’s  grenade which had been dropped into their Humvee. I asked myself, “What do I owe the McGinness family for the act that earned Ross the Medal of Honor?”

-       That September, I was emailed that a sergeant was on his way to Walter Reed who had been hit by an Explosively Formed Penetrator, a copper disc that heats to 12,000 degrees and can slice through an Abrams tank. Two days later, I made another of countless trips to Walter Reed to meet him at the hospital. The EFP had torn off both legs above the knee, ripped through his intestine and severed arteries in both arms. When I asked him how he was doing in order to get him to open up about his experience, rather than complaining about the pain, he said “Sir, I’m just glad I was able to shelter my men from the attack.” And I asked myself, “What do I owe this valiant young sergeant?”

-       When the brigade finally returned to Germany from its deployment, I attended four memorials for the 108 Soldiers who had been killed. At one of those memorials, I watched a five-year old boy walk up to a cold granite monument with his grandfather and run his fingers over the engraved letters of his father’s name.  And I asked myself, “What do I owe that little boy?”

-       One year ago, I spoke to an infantry battalion at Ft Carson, Colorado before they deployed to Kandahar City, Afghanistan. I shook hands with over 400 Soldiers that night and I wondered with each one, was that Soldier going to return. Today, I ask myself, “What do I owe the Families of four Soldiers whose hands I shook who won’t be coming back?”

-       Here in CT, I have attended too many services for Fallen Heroes. It does not get any easier. There is no more woeful sound than the sobs of a Family at a graveside whose Soldier was taken from them in the prime of his life.  I ask myself, “What do I owe the Families of these Soldiers who live among us and step forward to put themselves in harm’s way?”

Through these experiences, I have come to realize that I have three sacred obligations to these Volunteers and their Families.

-       First, our Troops have sworn to uphold our Constitution. I have an obligation to exercise all the rights granted to me under that Constitution fully and responsibly – to vote when I am entitled, to study all the issues as carefully as I can and to engage in dialogue about those issues with civility and care, and to demand the same of my elected officials.

-       Second, I have a responsibility to directly support those members of the Military who are in harm’s way and their Families left behind.

-       And finally, when our Troops return, I have a responsibility to help those Troops and their Families re-engage into civilian life. For so many of them, it is a very long road home.

In closing, I would like to ask each of you tonight after you finish your holiday activities, to sit down with your families and your friends and reflect on the simple question, “What do we owe our Military?”

Start with educating yourselves on the conflicts in which our Military are engaged. Read as much as you can about the issues. They are highly complex. There are no easy answers – only very tough choices. Discuss and deliberate the issues with an open mind.

Second, find some deployed Troops to support directly so that they know that civilians care. Weston will support the Blackhawk Brigade for their third deployment as they head to Afghanistan. Their leaders tell me it could be a very tough deployment.

And finally, when the Troops come home, go out of your way to help them re-integrate into civilian life. Help them find jobs. Make sure that they hear, through your deeds, the words, “Welcome Home!”

Only through these actions, can we as civilians face our Troops, face their Families, face our Wounded Warriors and face the Next of Kin of the Fallen and say that we have truly shared in their sacrifice and service to us.

My experience on September 11 has given me a personal mission to support our Troops, and I pray that there will be a day when no member of our Military will ever have to ask me the question again, “Does anyone understand what we are going through? Does anyone care?”

Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your attention. God bless this Community, God bless our Military and God bless the United States of America!

 

 


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