Our first deer hunt of the 2011 fall season was a great success! We had three out of five hunters get nice bucks. Not to take anything away from the two who did not, but I feel it safe to say that a good time was had by all present, most especially for me and my guides.
As usual, this hunt was more than just the hunting of whitetails. It was powerfully moving and emotional time. It was good.
This was another all-marine hunt weekend. I was in complete awe to be in the presence of these men. The short time spent with them I will cherish for the rest of my days. My one regret is that I did not have enough time to spend with each one of them like I should….like I want.
Unlike many of our hunters that visit us, most of these were gunshot victims. This presents different issues for them than the usual traumatic brain injury (TBI) suffered from IED blasts. But one thing remains the same and is a common denominator for our returning injured vets, a thing that was glaringly present this hunt– pain. Lots of it. Chronic pain that will likely last their entire life.
Lcpl. Hamilton was in the fight for Marjah, Afghanistan. Perhaps you’ve heard of this place on the news. However, I’m assuming most folks don’t pay much attention to names like this. But for Marines, these worthless pieces of real estate are etched in blood on the annals of Marine Corps history. Names like Tarawa. Belleau Wood. Hue. Fallujah. You don’t know Bob Hamilton and his wife, Liz. But now I do. And Marjah changed his life forever. He was shot by a sniper while on patrol in this stone-age town, hit in the gut. The large caliber bullet blew out the top of his ass, and he unabashedly showed us his scars. He returned fire with his M-249 SAW and laid there in the dust, bleeding profusely. He told me that he reached around and his entire fist went inside his back, and that’s when he knew he was in deep trouble. If he could last an hour, he told himself, he might live. Two of his best friends ran through heavy fire to him and administered first aid, packing him full of gauze and applying pressure on both wounds while sizzling tracers blazed past them. It took the chopper just under an hour to pick him up due to the ensuing firefight, and he made it. A score of complications from surgeries left him with no feeling in his right leg, and he walks with a cane. He’s now 25. 
When Ham got his first whitetail buck on saturday morning, he said, “I know how he feels…getting shot sucks!” His spirit was bright, exuberant, even.
Then there was Sgt. Jamie Lantgen. He got blown up by an IED that crushed and collapsed the entire right side of his face and destroyed his right arm. His body is still riddled with shrapnel. He shot a nice native buck just before dinner on saturday night, after much walking about the ranch with his guide, Kevin Bishop. We talked quite a bit throughout the weekend and shared some tequila shots on the last night.
Randy Curtis brought his dad along for the hunt. Incredibly, Randy got shot by a sniper in the throat with a 7.62×54 Russian Dragunov. It tore out most of his carotid artery and blew out the back of his neck. Another vet who should not be alive, yet here he was, smokin’ and jokin’ out back.
Gunny Wynn was blown up by an IED and was a bronze star recipient. He joined the Corps back during my days and also served in Desert Storm. He was acting chaperone for this hunt, and about to retire.
Then there was Nathan Harris. What a character. Ssgt. Harris is the subject of a new documentary movie entitled ‘To Hell and Back Again’ (http://hellandbackagain.com/), that has created a bit of controversy for a variety of reasons. He brought a copy with him and we watched it sunday morning in the living room of the lodge. The film is very well done and paints a pretty accurate picture of what is going on in Afghanistan and the struggles our troops have there. Thankfully, Harris was able to walk us through not only his engagements portrayed in the film but also pointed out several editing ‘liberties’ the film makers had with some of the scenes that were taken out of context. It was amazing and profound to have the stars– he and his wife Ashley, sitting right there with us to talk us through it all. It will be tough to watch for some of you….but I highly recommend it. It will be shown on most PBS markets on Veteran’s Day (November 11th for those who don’t have it stamped on your brain yet). 
Harris is a very funny, gregarious guy who loves to tell stories. Dirty ones. He regaled us with stereotypical tales that seem somehow ridiculous but commonplace for Marines. They are far too raunchy to tell here, but we laughed into the night at the fire pit, laughing to tears as the smoke stung our eyes. Harris was shot in the hip and leg and has to use a special walker to get around. When he killed his deer on sunday, he ceremoniously threw his cane out of the way to have his picture taken with his deer. His guide, Justin Hill, told me that Harris was emotional while he prepared to take the shot. He had to wipe away the tears and was shaking. He pushed through it and dropped him with the first round.
This was an issue that we’ve heard of before but it was the first time we had to deal with it at the Bowman Lodge. Many of these men have not fired a weapon, let alone killed something since their incident occurred. I don’t know whether to call this a special kind of therapy or not…I’m no head shrink. But they sure seemed at peace afterwards…the look on their faces burned in my memory now.
These men all deal with the pain. They struggle. None of them desire to be hooked on pain meds for the rest of their lives, but know it will never go away. Some don’t sleep well. Sometimes the drugs they are on make them loopy or just plain sick. One told me he was seriously struggling before he came to us, and our weekend had lifted his spirits. That was pure music to my ears, but I feel much sorrow that I cannot lift him every day henceforth. This actually saddens me. Who will be there for them in the dark night when their demons come?
Ham told me that he would do it all over again if he could. His life has been forever drastically changed with an uncertain future…how many of us can say this? He also said that survival is in your mind. He prayed, and truly believed he would live while bleeding to death in the dirt. He knows that frame of mind helped save him.
Make no mistake: these men are not bleeding and dying for Afghanistan, or even our freedom. The Afghans will never taste freedom with the Taliban around, but for our servicemen over there today, they are fighting for their mere chance of freedom. They represent it. They stand for the principle of freedom, whether it’s welcome or not. .45 percent of our population is willing to fight and die for a principle. Do you realize how freakin’ amazing that is? Mostly, though, they fight for each other. That’s the way it’s always been.
I want to do more. I struggle sometimes with our project at the lodge because I realize how feeble the attempt is to help these men in their battles. I admire their sand and grit, their resolve, their ability to fight through the pain. But I know it isn’t easy for them. I simply feel like there will never be enough deer, enough raucous story telling by the fire, or quiet chats at the bar to stave off their pain. We are doing what we can for them. We owe our brothers that much. 
Sammy the Wonder Dog made his debut this hunt. He was a huge hit, I think. That damn dog will chase tennis balls into the woods until the cows come home. My good friend, Cold Warrior and former Air Force linguist Daryl Colyer came to help out, too. He sang and played guitar while I backed him on mandolin one afternoon. I know he’ll be back for more. Another friend and former Marine, Denton McDonald, helped us out immensely with acting as a fifth hunting guide. And, we did not run out of coffee, for once.
I also debuted my new Utili-kilt in Marine Corps desert digicam. Alas, to much fodder. What did I expect? Of course I’d be snickered at. But it felt good when Sgt. Lantgen told me they wore them all the time on OP’s, and said he wished he’d brought his. Maybe he was just making me feel better about it. It seemed appropriate on the Warrior’s Walk, though. I think I’ll keep it.
The vortex was strong, once again. You just have to feel it. It sinks into your bones and fills you up with emotion. It can be exhausting. I want to stay up all night with these men…soak in their tales, feel their pain for them. But I also want to sleep. Nobody ever wants to leave the lodge. It’s so tough on mondays on the road to the airport. I only hope they take a piece of the lodge with them inside their hearts and it somehow carries their memory to a more peaceful place. Where the pain subsides for a wee moment in time. Pray for them, please. Pray for their pain.
Pain….
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