GovernmentExecutive.com

The Thin Volunteer Line

As we celebrate the holidays with family and friends here in The Land of The Big PX, it's a good idea to reflect on those who make such celebrations in a free society possible -- and the burden they carry respective to their numbers.

My good friend, Navy Capt. Dave Wray, on his second tour in Iraq, points out that a truly small, all-volunteer force of 2.4 million (or less than 1 percent of the U.S. population of about 300 million) carry the load of national defense.

A little more than 10 percent of that force -- about 186,000 soldiers, sailors, Marines and airmen -- serve in the Middle East, with 160,000 serving in Iraq and 26,000 in Afghanistan. And we know some of them will have a far tougher Christmas Day than any of us stateside, who may miss a plane connection or become ensnarled in traffic.

Dave, whom I have counted as a friend before either of us had any gray hair, says he willingly chose a career path that has taken him from port calls in Perth, Australia, (when he served on a carrier), to a tour on everyone's favorite rock (Guam), to the Pentagon, and back to Baghdad -- again.

Dave, who serves as director of strategic plans in the Multinational Force-Iraq communications division, says he is "intensely proud" of his comrades in Iraq who have the willingness "you cannot imagine to share and support one another -- and to fight and die for one another."

But his service, as does that of the other 2.4 million men and women on active duty, imposes on family, he says. He left for a two-month deployment (extended to a year) on his wife Terri's birthday and has subsequently missed the birthdays of his 19-year-old daughter, Katie; 84-year-old father, Jim; and three sisters.

So, in this season, it would be good to not only remember but salute those families, and I cannot think of a better accolade than the one written by Ben Stein, a financial columnist for The New York Times, in his column on Dec. 9: "I will say it until the day I die: The military family is the marrow in the backbone of America."

"Corpsman Up"

Dave, in his e-mail to me from Baghdad, singled out the Army and Marine grunt units who have borne the brunt of the "surge" battles of the past few months, and cited for special mention those battlefield medical personnel known to every grunt as just plain old Doc, including, he wrote, "Every Navy corpsman serving with the Marines and taking care of the wounded. Every Army medic doing the same for his or her soldiers. Every doctor of every kind who serves in a combat support hospital or field hospital and fights to save the lives of wounded men and women, regardless of service, sect or side in this conflict."

I agree. Based on my long-ago experience as a Marine in Vietnam, the true epitome of bravery is the corpsman who runs into, not away from, a firefight.

The Price They Pay

Dr. S. Ward Casscells, assistant secretary of Defense for health affairs, pointed out that the medics and corpsmen typically are "just kids who have their whole life ahead of them," and they still respond to that battlefield cry for help without a moment's hesitation.

Casscells told me that some of these youngsters, such as Sgt. Matt Sims, respond to that call over and over again despite their own wounds. Sims has earned three Purple Hearts during his tour in Iraq.

Others answer the cry for help, Casscells said, and don't make it back, with 150 medics and corpsmen -- remember, just kids -- giving their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan so others can live.

Remembering the Top Doc

Army Col. Brian Algood, command surgeon for the multinational forces in Iraq and a West Point graduate, boarded a Blackhawk helicopter in January en route to a clinic serving Iraqi civilians when the chopper was shot down, killing Algood and 12 other soldiers who were on board.

The Algood family more than meets Stein's description of the military family as the marrow in the backbone of America. Brian followed a path blazed by his father, Gerald, an Army doctor and Vietnam War veteran, and married Jane, another West Point grad, who retired from the Army as a colonel.

The Algood family has definitely contributed its share to the thin volunteer line.

Christmas on a C-17 Flying ICU

A global aeromedical evacuation system has helped to drastically reduce battlefield deaths to below 10 percent in Afghanistan and Iraq, compared to 30 percent who died of their wounds in World War II and 24 percent in Vietnam.

That medevac effort begins with the Air Force10th Expeditionary Aeromedical Evacuation Flight, commanded by Lt. Col. Martin Dorey, based at Ramstein Air Force Base in Germany, which routinely flies mercy missions in and out of Iraq and Afghanistan.

The crews of those flying ICUs, which include nurses and medics along with pilots, stand ready to fly a mission to Iraq or Afghanistan on Christmas Day, Darlene Cowsert, the press chief at Ramstein, told me.

So if weather means you get stuck this holiday season in Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas or Denver -- airline limbos that we all encounter sooner or later -- don't complain.

Say "Thank You" by Giving Up a First-Class Seat

Airports will be filled with military personnel this Christmas, and we can all make a difference with a short pause to shake a hand and simply say, "Thank you for your service."

Do you live near a military family? Make an effort to thank them for their service. And if they have a deployed family member, you may want to include them in your holiday celebrations.

Finally, for those lucky enough to sit in the front of the plane in those big cushy seats, you may want to think about giving up that first-class seat to someone in uniform who may come aboard your flight.

Such generosity does have its pitfalls, which I discovered when I gave away my front-of-the-plane seat (it was a free upgrade, boss) on my last trip to Washington. The flight attendants kept offering me free booze about every five minutes -- starting at 8:30 a.m.

I settled for all the free pretzels I could eat.