Tundras live: Free Hot Takes With Every Visit

Just part of the rationalization process. Everyone is in the line. You don't know your place in it, nor does anyone else know theirs. At some point it's your turn at the front. The pain never actually goes away. It may lessen a bit over time. Imagine a brother dying on a submarine. His body is put into a body bag and then placed into the freezer. My fellow shipmate wrote the following.

Death During Duty
Commander Mike Klein, captain of the submarine Alexandria, poked his head into the Galley after enjoying a meal, thanking the Galley Watch Captain for the fine dinner. “Great job, Petty Officer Holmes!” he praised; a compliment that could never be directed to Petty Officer Marcus Holmes again.
The stories I heard from relatives who fought in a World War or in Vietnam seemed only a bad tale of a world that had passed. I heard stories how a friend was killed while saving a life or merely doing his duty defending his country. I never took any of the stories to heart, though the teller knew well his heart was changed by the events.
While deployed at sea in the summer of 1996, Marcus became sick with walking pneumonia and was ordered to bed rest. Recovering quickly, he was preparing to assume his duties as Galley Watch Captain when things suddenly worsened.
The ship’s corpsman and Luis Pratts were in the head, Julio cutting doc’s hair. The head (bathroom) was small, with three stalls big enough to sit down in, and two showers big enough to turn around in. There were three sinks. The head is just long and wide enough for one adult to lie down in, as we found out. While preparing to shower, Marcus entered a stall and shortly after fell limp against the door, parched for breath. The other two heard his gasps and begged for a response.
Silence.
I was in bed, lying next to a MK-48 torpedo in the Torpedo Room, the lower of three levels on the submarine. I was having trouble sleeping so I was writing a letter.
A silence-piercing call came over the general announcing circuit. The Emergency Medical Assistance Team was to proceed immediately to the Middle Level Head. I responded, wondering what sort of drill simulation to expect. It seemed odd being called for a drill during deployment.
It was no drill; it was real. Something I never dreamed possible: a friend in desperate need of our help.
Hearing the sound of fluid filling his right lung, he struggled to breathe; a faint bubbling and gurgling sound could be heard. We tried to remove the fluid, but a capillary in his lung had burst from the pressure of a blood clot; our efforts were futile.
Marcus could no longer breathe on his own.
His heart stopped beating while we were setting up the materials to help him breathe. We immediately administered Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR), giving chest compressions while using an ambu bag to assist his breathing. A defibrillator was not available to restart his heart.
After two grueling hours of unsuccessful CPR, we moved him to the Wardroom, putting him on a table to have more room to work.
Marcus was heavier than expected; maneuvering around corners in a submarine carrying a limp body is nearly impossible. Lifting one side of his body to slide a blanket under him we gently, quickly dragged his limp body to the wardroom, hoisting him up onto the table.
Time was slipping away.
Oxygen must be made from water on a submarine; once made it is stored in oxygen banks. The oxygen banks were supporting Marcus after we exhausted all oxygen bottles on board.
Deep in our hearts we knew our efforts were in vain, but we had to keep going. A friend’s life depended on us. How could we go home without one of our own and look our loved ones in the eye? Leaving someone behind only happened in war; we were not at war. We were merely doing our duty for our country.
I watched his eyes set and glaze over; his eyelids failed to close. His eyes seemed to stare back at me, beseeching help, shocked by events, unresponsive.
I spoke to him as though he could hear me. I pleaded with him to hang on; we were almost to a place where people with more equipment could save him. He lacked the endurance.
More than four hours had now passed trying to revive him.
The Team was exhausted. Yet, we could not give up.
When finally at a point where we could conduct an emergency blow to the surface to get more supplies and help, it was too late.
Doctors boarded the ship, equipped with a defibrillator. Their results matched ours.
Marcus was pronounced dead at 1753 hours, 27 July 1996.
I was sent upstairs to retrieve a small green package from a First Aid Kit. I had no idea what I was going to get, or why I was getting it. Marcus was gone. Are we still going to try to revive him? I quickly found the answer to be no. The small package opened up into a bag … a body bag.
We gently slid our shipmate’s lifeless body into the body bag and zipped it up. When the zipper drew near to Marcus’s face another Team member, Tomas Class, angrily grabbed the corpsman’s hand. “Wait!” Tomas broke down, sobbing, rubbing Marcus’s head, “Goodbye Holmey. Goodbye.” His weeping was uncontrollable, bringing everyone to tears.
The doctors wanted to take Marcus with them for an autopsy before returning Marcus to his family. With rough seas, we were unable to remove him from the ship via the escape hatches. Marcus couldn’t be maneuvered up through the sail to the helicopter, either.
We resorted to storing him in the ship’s main freezer until we could moor two days later in Port Canaveral, Florida.
Like those who died in war doing their duty for our country, Marcus gave his life during his duty. I never imagined losing a friend on duty would be so profound. Why did he die when there was no war? Whatever the reason, certainly he was welcomed with open arms by those who have similarly gone before him. Like the storytellers I listened to when I was young, my heart has changed. My fallen friend and shipmate shall never be forgotten.
by James R. Chance

 

@15Yota, have you talked to the VA about any PTSD treatments. And I mean really had them take a look at your situation and try to get you into new treatments such as in the following link?
https://www.militarytimes.com/off-d...olutionary-neck-injection-treatment-for-ptsd/

 

@15Yota, I truly hope that you find peace at some point in your life. My wish is that all my brothers and sisters, no matter where or how they served, can come to peace with what they have done and seen serving our country.

 

We are all here for you man.

 

Good night Brandon. Hopefully neither of us see Harv's picture tonight.

 

Aww man, that sucks. Hope he’ll be ok.

 

Went to check out what the dealer had this evening...wtf!

 

The hell? Is it a TRD Pro?

 

Good morning everyone

 

Yes it was.

 

Freaking crazy

that dude

 

I've seen some sweet man buns.... And his definitely didn't fall in that category

 

We have it here too.... In weird Austin

 

Good night tundra family.

 

Tundra in Dongquang China.

 

Sweet!

 

About a month late but greatly appreciated.!! Thank you.

 

Happy belated birthday!

 

Morning y'all and have a good one.

 

Morning Pat!

 

Morning Bree

 

What a big bag of shit.

 

Yum!

 

Happy birthday @COMiamiFan!!!!

 

This ^^^^. We’re here to listen and that’s good therapy. Peace.

 

Nope.

 

Good morning Bree