A patriot died tonight and these are his final thoughts, left behind that all may know the ‘why’.
The 911 call came in about 2230 to central dispatch, a probable suicide at a given address. I am a reserve officer with the local sheriff’s office, and as I was the closest unit I responded accordingly.
Clearing and securing the scene for the regular team took only a few minutes. As required I held the man’s son and curious neighbors outside the home while the coroner finished up. The man’s son understandably was upset but wanted to talk about his father. This is his story
The father was a disabled Marine aviator, served two tours in Viet Nam, shot down during his second tour and spent the next two years as a POW, “somewhere up north”. He managed to escape, bringing five other fellow captives out with him. For this act of heroism he was awarded the CMH. Complications of injuries sustained during this time eventually dictated his release from active duty. Long hospital stays delayed his return to some semblance of normal life, the woman who had shared the early years with him could no longer wait to get on with her own life and left, taking their ten year old son with her.
Over the years bitterness grew, well watered with bourbon. However, about six years ago the man discovered politics and immersed himself in state and national concerns. The bourbon did not disappear, but did make a decided retreat. From his wheelchair, and by means of the internet he began to make himself heard in circles far beyond his small town home. His hatred of war seemed to be the corner stone of his assault on unhearing and uncaring politicians.
With the election of November 08 something changed. His warnings seemed to go unheeded, no one wanted to hear him. No one wanted to believe. However, as his insights began to bear fruit, his ability to fight off the effects of his disability decreased further. Whether there was a correlation of the two can’t be specifically said. However, his old friend bourbon did reappear. The son described his father’s decline in guarded terms, even mentioned the visits from VA did little good. Discussing in-home services with his father brought on bouts of anger and soon were dropped.
The coroner and team brought out the covered body, loaded it in the waiting unit and drove off. The task of securing the scene was the next order of business. As I’d had some experience with veterans in the past the son handed me the note his father had left. Here it is in its entirety, unedited, only his name and address omitted out of respect.
“With my final act on this earth I resign my commission. I can no longer faithfully serve under the faithless cur, the pretender CIC. He has made a mockery of all that I believe in, all that I fought for, for all that I sacrificed my life and my sacred honor. Let my final act be a condemnation of all he is and all he stands for. Those of us who faithfully served took an oath of office, as did he. He has betrayed that oath in no uncertain terms. Let my final act point the finger and call him traitor. I served in honor, and I leave in honor.” (able/mike/foxtrot)
SEMPER FI
(please note, the local newspaper, when asked by the family to print his final letter refused)
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