Shattered Dreams and Newfound Hopes

It was February, 1977 and I had just been released from the hospital where they had removed a calcium deposit on my left knee. Upon returning to the base at Little Creek Va I was called into the operation officer's office and informed that my endeavor to be taken off the deployment which was about to leave would not hold up. Crutches or not I was still on the list to depart with the rest of my team.

Needless to say I was a bit disturbed by that comment. I had no idea that calcium deposit was on my knee and neither had I planned to have some joker hit it with a hard hat. All I knew was I couldn't walk after that because of the damage done to the muscles of my knee. And, not to mention, I was truly looking forward to going on my first deployment.

During the few days that remained prior to departing on our trip to the Virgin Islands and ultimately a small island off Puerto Rico I was approached by a guy several times warning me of impending doom. He told me that he'd been having a repeat dream that someone was going to die on this trip... even explained to me how it was going to happen. Of course I'd never encountered a true clairvoyant up to that point in my life, so I didn't pay much attention to his rantings. Though I did try to comfort him by telling him that perhaps his dreams were merely a warning that we should all be more alert on this deployment so we could prevent such things from happening. It didn't seem to quell his fears.

The day came and I limped aboard the LST that would be carrying us down to the warm waters of our destination. Of course I was instructed to check in with the Corpsman as soon as I got on board the ship who immediately asked why I was even allowed to go on this trip. "A ship is no place for a gimp leg!" he boldly stated as he plucked a hard hat from under a cabinet and handed it to me. "You're not going to be able to bend down enough get through the hatches without bumping your head, so wear this whenever you're out of your bunk." he told me. Now I'm six foot four inches tall... that's all I needed to do was add another two inches to make me have to duck down more going through those hatches. In the end, though, I did start wearing it. It was better to have a stiff neck than a constant bleeding sore on the top of my head.

The trip down, through the Bermuda Triangle, was quite the experience. Oh, nothing extraordinary happened. It was just the rough waters of that part of the ocean that very nearly beat the crap out of that modified flat bottom ship. They actually bent the shaft on that cruise as a result of pile driving through 20 foot waves for hours on end.

The most enjoyable part of that trip took place when we were allowed to take shore leave on the island of St Croix. Being from the country, seeing the shore line of our own coastal area was quite impressive, but this tropical paradise was like stepping out of reality into an imaginary setting. The giant palm trees and colorful exotic birds were everywhere. And the inhabitants of the island were obviously from all around the world.

Upon leaving there the ship took up the heading for our intended playground, a small island off the main island of Puerto Rico. There we were to take part in a week long simulated beach assault exercise. Being a part of the Amphibious Assault Battalion, we were responsible for establishing a floating peer on a beach that would pose as a debarkation point for all the marines on the LSTs. With their modified flat bottom they were able to maneuver in as little as 12 feet of water under their bow. And to make it work they carried 4 sections of floating peer with them on these exercises. The sections were approximately 30 feet wide by 70 feet long.. (I may be off on those measurements... it's been a long time...LOL)

The sections locked together on the ends by means of T-headed "Dog ears". The day we set them in the water the weather wasn't very abiding... As we worked to marry them together those dog ears started popping off like they were made of plastic. But, trust me, when a two inch thick piece of round metal pops off and zings by your head you learn to duck fast.

We finally got everything under control, but had to string a cable around the perimeter of the combined 4 section peer to assist the remaining dog ears holding it together. Then we beached our peer and anchored in for the offload.

The LSTs had to dock the bow of the boat to the end of the peer then drop the bow ramp so the marines could drive their jeeps, trucks, and tanks off the ship. It was a tricky business. The ships had to drop their stern anchors before docking with the peer so once they were securely tied up they could winch a strain on the anchors to hold the ship still while they were offloading.

Three ships had come and gone without a hitch and the last was on it's way in. As it drew nearer to the peer we all noticed that it was moving a lot faster than any of the others. When it hit the end of the peer it was moving so fast it rode up on top of the first section. But the water was shallow enough that it pinched against the bottom and started driving the rest of the peer up onto the beach. By the time it stopped moving an entire section was laying up on the beach.

We had to call back one of the bulldozers that had offloaded from a previous ship to pile sand up against that end so the ship could offload all it's vehicles. After the offload was complete we worked well into the night trying to get that section back into the water. It took 4 mike boats and 2 bulldozers to finally get it done. Then the bulldozers where ordered to bury the end on the beach to ensure that didn't happen again.

For the next 10 days we did little more than stand our watches and snorkel. My knee hadn't quite healed but the exercise I was getting swimming in the crystal clear water was doing wonders for it. I had never swam in water so clear. It was wonderful. The only thing we really had to watch out for were the sea urchins.

The last day of the exercise came and as we were about to head out on the peer the fella that had been warning me before tried to stop me. "It'll be okay." I told him, "Just keep your eyes peeled and if we all do what we're supposed to be doing no one should get hurt."

With that I stepped onto the peer and kept going. When I looked back I realized he'd turned back. I paused for a moment to watch him as he walked back to the campsite and it appeared he was wiping tears from his eyes. I just couldn't understand why anyone would get so upset over a dream.

The first two ships came and went without a problem. Then came that same ship that had drove the peer up on the beach. Before I knew it the Officer in Charge, which was a Chief Warrant Officer, started yelling into his radio "Slow that damned thing down.... you're coming in too fast again!" But his words went unheeded and the ship was headed for a repeat session. The only problem was.... the other end of the peer was buried under several tons of sand.

This time when the ship hit the peer, after it rode up onto the end section it listed to starboard and the remaining dog ears started popping like the buttons on an old shirt. The peer broke in half and because of the cable started hinging to the ship's port side. I have to give that old Warrant Officer Credit. He didn't panic. In an instant he was barking orders telling people where to move to in order to avoid injury and the mike boats out of harm's way.

At one point he had us all huddled around him, which seemed at the moment the safest place to be until he noticed the straining cable creeping across the deck of the peer toward us. "When I give the word..." he bellowed over the noise "I want everyone to get on the other side of that cable as quickly as possible." He knew it could break in an instant and if we all just stood there too long it could literally take us all out in one fell swoop.

We all watched and waited, it seemed like forever before he finally ordered us to move. Then, being as I was one of the few standing on the outside edge of the crowd I made my move as soon as he barked the order. With one hard step I jumped to clear the cable ......... I didn't feel a thing until the corpsmen started pulling my steel toed boot off my left foot. The pain at that point was unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life. I stayed awake long enough for another corpsman to notice and tell me not to try to open my left eye. "You've lost that one I think." was the last thing I heard him say before I blacked out again.

The next time I came too I was in a hospital bed and there was a naval officer standing over me. He introduced himself as one of the seal team that had been present at the time of the accident and asked if there was anything I wanted or needed. "How many others were hurt?" was the only thing that came to mind.

"You were the only one, son." he told me, and with that I faded back into the darkness.

I was told it was two days later when I awoke again, this time to find my Warrant Officer and Chief Harris standing beside my bed. I managed to stay awake long enough to have a little bit of conversation with the two of them. At that point I really wasn't sure that the first visit from the seal wasn't merely a dream. So I asked again if anyone else was injured when that cable broke.

The Warrant Officer confirmed that I was the only one and I told them I was glad that no one else had to experience the pain I did. Chief Harris clenched his teeth and I thought for a moment there he was going to say something, but he didn't... at least not before I blacked out again.

The next time I woke up I saw my seabag laying on the floor across the room and I suddenly realized I had been left behind.... alone in this hospital.. where ever it was. It made me sick to my stomach and I wanted to cry... and I probably would have if I hadn't faded again.

I'm not sure how many days passed before I finally woke up alert enough to stop a nurse and ask questions. I was told I'd been in a coma for over a week and they had been afraid to move me because of my injuries. The cast on my left leg was the size of a medicine ball bellow the knee. and my right knee was swollen almost twice it's normal size. So when the nurse told me the swelling had gone down a lot I found it almost impossible to believe.

For the next couple of weeks, every time they tried to sit me up or move me I'd black out again. They thought maybe it was a result of the immense swelling in my left leg that allowed too much blood to be drained away from my head... It wasn't until many years later after undergoing an MRI that it was discovered that my neck had been broken in that accident. No wonder I blacked out every time they lifted my head off the pillow.

When the day came that they could actually get me out of bed four corpsmen came to my room with a wheel chair and took me to the doctor's office. I can't remember his name, only that he wasn't very old. But I remember looking dead into his dark brown eyes when he informed me that the panel of orthopedic doctors had concluded that I'd never get out of a wheelchair.

As he slid the medical discharge papers across the top of his desk all I could think about was how I'd almost died twice as a kid and gone through years of being anemic when I was growing up in Texas... but the worst memory was how my father used to look at me... as if I was a worthless piece of equipment that should have been traded or just discarded along the way. He used to tell me that I'd never amount to a hill of beans.... and I suddenly realized I could not go back there.

"Now let me get this straight...." I said, putting my hand on top of the pile of paperwork he wanted me to sign. "If I refuse to sign this... you can't force me to take this discharge can you?"

"Well... no" he replied, and before he had a chance to say anything more I pushed the pile back to him and told those corpsmen to get me to hell out of there.

Of course he stopped them before they could react and asked "Just what do you think you can do in the navy from a wheel chair?"

"I can do anything I set my mind too..." I let him know matter of factly... "And you can find a desk that this wheelchair will fit under and teach me a trade I can make a living with." And again I told those guys to get me out of there. I didn't care to sit and discuss it any further.

As they rolled me out of the room the doc stated that those "desk" jobs were reserved for men coming back off sea duty.... to which I replied... "Well, sir, I've only got 3 years left to serve in this man's navy.. I suggest you figure something out!"

Once I was back in my room I requested a phone to be brought in so I could make a call. The only person I cared to talk to at that moment was of course my mother. I surprised myself at how well I held myself together during our conversation... it must have been the anger I was still feeling that helped.

I told her what the doctor had said and got even more angry when I heard her break down and cry on the other end of the phone. Not angry with her... but more at my life... I had been the cause for so much worry and concern for this poor woman and here I was doing it again.

"Mom... "

"Yes son." her voice a mere whisper

"You still believe in prayer and miracles don't you?" I asked.

"Yes son I do." she replied.

"Then offer up your best one." I told her.. then added, "Cause I'm not about to give into this claim."

She promised she would and we talked for a little longer before she had to get off the phone. These collect calls from Puerto Rico were costing her a lot... and if Dad ever found out she was accepting them from me he'd hit the roof.

As I placed the handset back in it's cradle I couldn't hold it any longer. The tears flowed. The two other guys that shared that room with me said nothing.. not even to each other as I laid there and sobbed. I ran out of tears at some point in the middle of the night but still couldn't sleep. All my hopes and dreams of someday proving to my father that I wasn't worthless had just been dashed against the rocks. 'He was right and didn't even know it!" I thought to myself... just before I finally dozed off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Around 0800 I was awakened by the same four corpsmen that had fetched me the day before. Once again they placed me in a wheelchair and carted me off to the doctor's office. As they rolled me through his office door I announce that nothing had changed and I still wasn't signing any discharge papers.

The doc looked ragged... and when he informed me that he hadn't slept since our encounter the previous day I told him "Good! But I bet you didn't spend all night crying your eyes out in front of fellow shipmates did ya?" It bothered me that I couldn't hold it in the night before.

The discussion quickly turned to experimental castings.. and possibly re breaking my leg in order to try to make it heal well enough so I could possibly walk again. Naturally I refused to let him break my leg again.. and we started discussing alternative experimental treatments that might work for me.

For nine months I was in those casts. The muscles of my left leg had dwindled to little more than the size of my forearm by the time they finally came off. But my back was strong. I'd been rowing a sixteen foot row boat 5 miles a day for the last 4 months. And my determination was even stronger. The doctor's prognosis went from never out of a wheelchair to never off crutches... then it was I'd always have to use a cane...

I would have liked to seen the looks on their faces when I passed the physical and signed the papers to stay in for another hitch. There's not a day since that I haven't dealt with some degree of pain... I refuse to submit myself to the lure of pain pills... I've met too many people who've become hooked on them and many have destroyed what lives they did have as a result of it.

I haven't become a millionaire... nor do I have a prestigious job with a grand title... But you know what Dad... I'm proud of who I am and that I'm still here and able to put two good feet on the floor every morning when I wake. He'll never read this... we haven't talked in over 10 years, and we probably never will again.