Woman Marine - Naval Hospital, Vietnam vets

Bethesda Naval Hospital was huge and impressive from what little I could see from my gurney. I was sedated and my knee was put back in place and I was placed in a cast from hip to foot. I was put in a room to sleep for the night. During the middle of the night I felt like my leg was exploding. I rang for a nurse. She brought me some pain meds and told me to sleep. Within the hour, the pain was unbearable. This time she checked the leg and found the foot was turning black and all circulation was being cut off. They rushed me to the plaster room to remove the cast. Turns out I was allergic to the glue used to put the cast on with and it was three times the size of the other leg and covered with red weeping blisters.

The next day the doctors explained that I could not be recast and would have to stay in the hospital and let the leg heal naturally. The leg was placed in a sling and pulley contraption and for the next two months I lay in the same bed going stir crazy for lack of anything to do. I don't remember TV's being in the rooms then. There was a TV in the community room which I couldn't get to. So I became close friends with a pack of cards and played solitaire endlessly. My family was in Alabama and I had not had time in Arlington to make real friends yet, so the days and nights became very long. The itching from the leg was unbearable but if I would scratch it, moving the leg would cause pain. This was also the time of my life when I began smoking. In those days, they would bring small cigarette packs on your meal tray and you could smoke in the hospital. So I figured why not, it will pass the time. I sure regret that day.

After two months, I was able to get up slowly and began another 6 weeks of intensive physical therapy to regain use of my leg. The pain in those sessions was awful. However, the Vietnam issue was back in my life with full impact. I could not ignore it any longer. While in physical therapy, I would be in a large room filled with young military men who had returned from Vietnam with massive injuries. When I felt like crying out from the pain, I would remain absolutely silent. There was something so wrong with my little injury compared to what I was seeing. I would watch grown men on floor mats learning to crawl like babies, men with missing limbs, head injuries and every injury imaginable. The sound of the crying, begging to die, and screaming of these brave men will forever echo in my mind and dreams. They frightened me and I began asking for sleeping pills to help get away from it in my sleep. I slowly adjusted to these daily scenes and made friends with a few of the men. I couldn't begin to comprehend what they had been through and most didn't want to talk about it or couldn't remember. I watched their progress or lack of progress each day and some didn't return to physical therapy. I felt like I was experiencing the aftermath of the war with them.

When my leg was ready, I had a visit from an officer who informed me that I would not be allowed to return to duty due to the damage to the leg. I would have to take an honorable medical discharge with a disabled veteran rating. I didn't want to get out of the Corps, but no amount of begging made a difference. Then I was ashamed to be going home as a disabled veteran because of VOLLEYBALL when I saw the truly disabled veterans all around me. I was given a 10% disability and the DAV representative encouraged me to fight for a higher disability. Under the circumstances, I just couldn't. I didn't feel I had earned the right to be a disabled veteran. I have never gone back to get the rating changed for just that reason. I have had several surgeries and problems with the knee since then, and was later diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I believe the fall and leg injury was the start of the MS symptoms.

So after only a year and a half, I was on my way home and back to civilian life. I grew up in the Bethesda Naval Hospital and will carry the courage and agony of those men with me for the rest of my life. Even today I hold my emotions inside. I think this experience is why.

As for being a Woman Marine. I would do it all over in a minute if I could. I wish I were of my children's generation to be able to experience the training and opportunities now open to women in the military. During the recent loss of life of a woman Marine in a plane crash in the line of duty, I've mourned her loss but also swell with pride at the idea that she was a participant in this historic event brought on by September 11th. Her presence there speaks volumes of her training and courage and her family should be very proud.