It is a great slogan, implying absolute, steadfast, and unwavering loyalty up and down the chain of command. The Marine Corps has numerous inspiring mottos and catchphrases that encapsulate its honorable traditions. Some live up to their meaning. To its detriment, this one does not. The Marine Corps uses and discards earnest, dedicated young men and women, the absolute finest this nation has to offer, as if they were as expendable as 5.56 rounds. A comprehensive detailing of this tragedy would run hundreds of thousands of words, far exceeding the parameters of this forum. I will, therefore, share the abbreviated story of one Marine. Regrettably, it is typical of thousands of other similar experiences with the Corps over the last two decades.
Like thousands of other patriots, my son left a good job after 9/11 and enlisted. The proudest moment of his life was graduating from boot camp, earning the right to wear the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. He pushed himself harder than any drill instructor did to excel. He lived and breathed the Marine Corps ethos, fully intending to make the Corps his career. He maxed the ASVAB. He spoke German and Korean prior to entry. He could have had any of the career fields the Marine Corps offers. He chose to go in harm’s way as an infantryman, the bedrock of the Corps.
On a walking patrol during his second tour in Iraq, he was hit by an IED. The force of the blast drove him through an exterior wall into the living room of an Iraqi home, damaging his left knee, dislocating his left shoulder, and rendering him unconscious. Several squad members were also injured. Understandably thinking there was no way anyone could have survived that close to the epicenter of the detonation, the corpsman began treating the other casualties. Imagine his surprise when a dusty, dirty, damaged figure stepped out of the gaping hole in the devastated Iraqi home and asked to have his shoulder put back into place. Believing his injuries to be manageable and unwilling to leave his squad shorthanded, my son declined further medical attention, finished the patrol and the remainder of his combat tour.
On his subsequent tour in Japan, he began to have frequent, severe headaches and intense pain in his knee and shoulder. For as long as he could, he soldiered on. Only when he began to lose feeling in his left hand did he seek more than routine medical attention. As one of the few grunts on a Marine airbase and consequently one of the few personnel certified to conduct rifle qualifications, swim qualifications, and security drills; run an armory; organize a color guard; and conduct numerous other basic but critical functions, his command was reluctant to release him for the medical attention he obviously needed. After much hate and discontent, they finally relented. When he was sent TDY to Naval Hospital Balboa, MRIs revealed that he had three herniated discs in his neck, one of which was impinging on his spinal cord. His miraculous survival of the IED was compounded by the wonder that some subsequent injury since then had not severed his spine leaving him paralyzed.
After being transferred to Naval Hospital Portsmouth, he had an operation to fuse the worst of the herniated discs in his neck. This was a mixed blessing. The pain in his left shoulder diminished and the numbness in his left hand abated somewhat, but now he began to have severe pain in his back as well as his neck and shoulder. Not until much later did he learn that his thoracic area had been damaged and the injuries were considered inoperable, due to their location, unless the patient was in extremis.
Realizing he would never return to full active duty, the Marine Corps cut their losses and, as they have with thousands of other injured Marines, medically discharged him and turned him over to the VA. I won’t open that can of worms. It will take an act of God to make the VA worthy of the veterans forced to use it. I will not burden you with the problems endemic at Naval Hospital Portsmouth, which are legend and as basic as failing to provide patients recovering from surgery with a pillow or with a room with a toilet. I will not plague you with the exercise in futility in dealing with Marine Corps Wounded Warrior Battalion East, which apparently exists not to address problems brought to their attention such as the poor treatment of their fellow Marines at Naval Hospital Portsmouth or to assist Marines and their families with the painful transition out of the Corps and into civilian life, but to paper over a flawed Marine Corps policy. Nor will I endeavor to describe the frustrating process of obtaining proper civilian medical care for a loved one. Unless you are fortunate enough to find a doctor who is a veteran, the private market lacks the requisite experience in combat trauma and is therefore ill equipped to deal with the complex issues of veterans. The bottom line is that the VA continues to fail in its mission, and private civilian medical practice is not equipped to take up that mission. It is incumbent upon the Marine Corps, in cooperation with Navy medicine, to become the world leader in the physical, mental, psychological and emotional recovery of its wounded warriors.
I understand cost-benefit analysis. I understand that unlike Congress, the Marine Corps has a finite budget and that after 17 years of continuous war, properly resolving personnel issues could easily consume all of it. On the other hand, the cost of training, the loss of experienced personnel, and the negative impact on retention, readiness, and recruiting must factor into that equation. When a person enlists, he or she should have a reasonable expectation that if they live up to their part of the contract the Marine Corps—or any branch of service for that matter—will never consign them to the travesty that is the VA or relegate them to the vagaries that come with private civilian care until, and unless, it has exhausted every other possible avenue of treatment within its power.
For my second department head tour, I served as first lieutenant onboard the USS Portland (LSD-7). During that tour I had the privilege of observing firsthand the finest fighting force in the world. Friendly rivalry aside, I came to understand the Marine Corps’ pride, and that even more so than the Navy, the Corps is defined by tradition, thrives on tradition, lives and dies on tradition. If the Corps is to remain the premier fighting force of the United States in the 21st century, “Once a Marine, always a Marine” must be more than a slogan.
