To read part 1, go here first.
November 12, 2016 Near Atlanta, GA
A friend’s husband was going to be out of town, and she asked me to spend the weekend with her. We had been friends for several decades and it was a chance for us to have some quality time together. I was delighted to have the opportunity. I was at her house when I woke up on Saturday, 12 November 2016. Our son, Christopher, had been stationed at Bagram Air Force Base but was leaving Afghanistan with his unit on that day after his second tour to that war zone. The whole family was delighted that he would soon be back at Ft. Carson. It would be several days before he would land in the US after leaving Afghanistan.
When I woke up, I reached for my phone to check the time (oh, too early!). It was 4 a.m. in Atlanta. Since it was so early, I took a look at the newsfeed on my phone. Oh, my gosh! Oh, no! The title of the first article was “Terrorist Attack at Bagram Air Force Base”. What? How could that be? Bagram was thought of as the safest post in the war zone. I was horrified, worried and immediately fully awake. What do I do next? It was too early to wake up my friend to tell her. Instead, full of worry, I got up, dressed, repacked my overnight bag and got ready for the day, still pondering what I ought to do.
Having been around the military for several decades by this time as an Army wife and later, an Army mom, I knew that when there was some sort of tragedy in the military, all personal communication would stop and only a military spokesman would be giving out information. The theory was that the next of kin of those injured or killed would need to be contacted before the full story would go out to the public. That also gave the military time to investigate the situation. This also kept rumors from flying around. It might take a day or so to contact the next of kin. Oh…that is me.
At six o’clock, I decided that I needed to get home as fast as possible. How could any Army representative get in touch with me if I wasn’t home? I woke up my friend and told her the situation. She was shocked, horrified and concerned. Our church has overnight Adoration on Fridays and into Saturday morning; since it was the six a.m. hour, I decided I would have time for a few minutes of prayer before anyone would come to my house to tell me the fate of our son. I was a little shaky, but since my friend lives close to church, it didn’t take me long to drive over where I found another friend there praying. I asked her to keep Christopher in her prayers. She knew him from a child and was happy to be in prayer for him, but shocked and concerned about his fate.
Then, I rushed home where I tried to get my mind off the situation in Afghanistan, though I did check the news, but found nothing; it was all I could think of – why wasn’t there news? Where was Christopher? What had happened? Was there any additional news? Flip on the television, again. No additional info just the Alert that there was a terrorist attack at Bagram. How can I keep my mind occupied? Should I call other family members – or will they just worry like me? I tried to keep the worry to myself, when I realized I needed to get people praying for the victims. I called Christopher’s sisters in MD and then, went back to my personal worrying.
At about noon, out of the blue, came a call from one of my husband’s West Point classmates. I don’t believe he had ever called me before and I don’t remember now what he had planned to talk about, but in the midst of whatever it was, he asked about Christopher. “Thank you for asking…you’ll never believe what is going on.” He hadn’t heard about the attack. He reassured me that he would keep Christopher, his men and the soldiers/airmen at Bagram AFB in his prayers. I believe God inspired his call to me to reassure me.
I was well aware that I would not hear from Christopher for some time, if ever again. What I didn’t know was where he might be. Would he still leave Afghanistan? Was he injured? Was he alive? It was hard to think of those things, but I needed to be prepared. I had to think how I would handle each of those possibilities. Among all those thoughts, I kept looking out the window to see if I would see the dreaded Army vehicle on my street.
It was a very long Saturday – no matter that it started at 4 a.m. It was the uncertainty of the situation. Should I pack a bag to get to Ramstein, Germany where badly injured soldiers would be taken? There wasn’t much information from news outlets. All I could do was wonder and try to figure out how I would handle the situations that might confront me and my daughters. All I knew for sure was that I needed to stay home until more information came my way, so that is what I did. Eventually, since the day had gone by without any personal news, I had to give up and try to sleep. It was hard to put the difficult thoughts to bed even when I was in bed myself.
Sunday morning came and there still was no communication from Christopher or anyone. Eventually, I learned from the media what had happened. At 5:30 a.m. that Saturday morning in Afghanistan, a group of more than 100 soldiers and American contractors had gathered for a Veterans’ Day run. At about 5:38 a.m., a man approached the group and detonated a suicide vest killing two soldiers and two contractors, injuring 16 Americans and 1 Polish national. How in the world did a terrorist get into Bagram? Later investigation revealed that the terrorist had worked for an American contractor and had been making a suicide vest for some time. What a terrible tragedy. At this point, however, I still had no idea whether Christopher and his soldiers might have been a part of the group celebrating Veterans’ Day 2016.
I tried to compose myself that morning, still trying to figure out what I ought to be doing besides continuing to pray. Should I leave home to go to Sunday Church or must I stay home? Later, that morning, the phone rang. “Mom? I’m OK. We’re in Kuwait. I can’t talk now, but I’ll tell you more when I get back home.” He told me later what a strange, chaotic day it was as his unit tried to understand what had happened and what they ought to do. At the sound of the blast, those assigned to Bagram Airfield immediately donned their full battle gear not knowing what terrorist activity had caused the blast across the flight line. In the transient quarters, the remaining members of Task Force Red Warrior realized they had no battle gear – no means of personal protection. In the hubbub of trying to figure out what was going on, they discovered their only immediate defense – one soldier still had his firearm; their unit’s defense was, oddly enough, the chaplain’s assistant.
Now, I could breathe again, but immediately, my mind went to the other mothers and families who didn’t get the good news I received. My prayers went out to them; I had suffered right along with them, but their news was devastating. Gold Star families suffer each day with the loss of their brave service members.
We must keep them in our prayers.
Thanks for sharing. People sometimes forget the stress on those at home. God Bless.
Dear Suzanne:
Thanks for the wonderful story. From this and your other USMA adventure recounts, especially the last one about Korea, perhaps the West Point colors should take on a new meaning: black (the sudden shock of emergencies), gold (the hopefully happy and successful resolutions), and gray (the remaining gray hairs of stressed-out wisdom)! 🙂
And along with the likes of other military wives such as newly named Ft. Moore’s Julia Moore, thank you for your service!
Best regards & BOTL,
Bill
Suzanne, from one ’65 BOTL wife and mom of another academy graduate(mine USAFA) I thank you for your stories and dedication to these articles. We share so much in common and our extended bond can only be truly appreciated by a few.
Dependents serve just as much as those in harms way. Thanks for sharing. Special thanks for encouraging a next generation to begin contributing to the Days Forward.
Suzanne, I thought you captured the obvious, and in some cases underlying, trepidation of parents’s whose offspring are serving in a combat zone. My son was with the 101st Airborne during Operation Iraqi Freedom, and my wife JoAnne and I experienced the unconscious anxiety of “what if?” Fortunately, in his case, his battalion had satellite phones that the troops were able to use to call home. The phones would be passed to the most junior soldier in the unit and work the way up through the ranks, until all members of the unit had their three minutes of calling back to the world. In our case, he called us at 0430 hours our time. Once, on Christmas Eve, when I was standing in line to get tickets for Christmas mass the next day, he was able to call. The relief was almost palpable. Thanks for the reminder.
Suzanne, Wow! Your story is very powerful … thank you for every word! It really got me thinking about all kinds of things relating to my time in Vietnam. I was married so rightly or wrongly, all of my focus on keeping in touch with those back home was with my wife, Avril. I’m pretty sure I never called my mom & dad and I don’t even remember writing them … or being written to by them. Growing up in the Army as I did deployments were just a part of life so I never thought much about it … except when it came to Avril. To me she was the whole world and nothing else and no one else mattered.
Dear Suzanne,
Few things are more frightening than the unknown. While reading your narrative of the unknown in Atlanta, my mind reflected back on the unknown Chris was concurrently experiencing half a world away.
The pairing of these stories reinforces the angst which is integral to military life. One doesn’t need to wear a uniform to serve, to wonder, to worry … and hopefully often enough, find relief.
Thank you for all you do for the BOTL and for maintaining your family tradition of service.
Respectfully,
Stewart
Suzanne and Chris. . . . THANK you for your touching stories. With 12 years in the Army to include a couple of overseas assignments, I never considered what my family might be thinking when “stuff” happened in the Pacific or Europe and I was there. Now, as a mother of an Army Major who spent 9 months in Kuwait and Iraq in 2019, I have a new and challenging perspective on World Affairs and the impact it might have on our soldiers and their families. I think it was the missile strikes and the shared wall with supposedly friendly Iranian soldiers that scared me the most. I worried about a bomb being thrown over the wall . . . . It seems my son was on the phone with his wife every time missiles landed near his compound in Iraq. I considered taking her phone away. (smile) It was the longest 9 months of my life. To him, he was doing his job. . . continue the mission. Even now, thinking about it and all the possibilities of “what if”. . . well, I cry. Post Scripts ~ 3 weeks or so after my son returned from Iraq, A missile strike landed near the facility he worked in and one of his colleagues was killed. ” what if . . . ? “
Wow, thank you, Suzanne, what an eye-opening perspective following Chris’s story! I’m glad you shared a mom’s side of the story. We all need to hear that.
This was powerful and I am sure one of a million times that you experienced stress over what both Bill and Chris were exposed to in their years of military service. How grateful I am that such dedicated and competent men served to protect our lives. Love you!