Nebraska Skies: What makes the American flag wave?

What if I told you; not everybody who losses their life in a war actually died there?

That might seem strange to some, but it was the reality I came to know one summer while flying over the Nebraska skies and escorting the remains of my closest friend and the closest thing I've ever had to a brother . I had already seen war, experienced combat and struggled with loss before, but, this would be the first time I saw it from the eyes of grieving family, a loving community and grateful nation.

On June 7th, 2010, I woke up to the worst news any human could receive. I had a phone that was lit up with missed calls, a full list of voicemails and an endless amount of text messages. Then, I noticed they were all from the same person, my best friend's wife. The back story here was my brigade in the 101st Airborne had just deployed to Afghanistan a few weeks earlier. I was allowed to stay behind to finish up a custody battle that was only a few day's away before heading out to join them. Needless to say, my heart sank, and the world stopped at this moment. I put in my password, went to the most recent voicemail and heard a young woman screaming at me to “ ...please just answer your phone!”  

I rushed out of bed, walked down a hall to a spare bathroom, locked the door behind me and immediately called her back. As soon as she answered her phone I could tell she hadn’t slept, had been crying all night, was a total collapsed wreck and something awful had happened. I still remember every single word of that conversation, the sound of her voice and all the long pauses while she navigated through the tears and emotion. I did my best to try and calm her down before she finally interrupted me to tell me the news.

"Jon, stop!...there was a big fight last night..."

This is when she took a longer pause, began to sob again and I could hear her voice beginning to crack. I immediately knew what she was about to tell me. She took one last deep breath and her voice began cracking again before she said...

" Jon,..Blain didn't make it."

Blain Redding, second to last bottom right. Afghanistan, 2010.

I’m not going to drag this next part out; my closest friend and former teammate had just been killed in Afghanistan and his wife and family asked me to be his escort and bring him home.

(I think I actually had an out of body experience at this point.)

One of the deepest moments of reflection I've ever had in life occurred while sitting in the casualty assistance office on Fort Campbell. Sitting in front of the woman completing my itinerary, there was a small black wire basket with five manila folders. I do have a book coming out and this is one of the most powerful parts of the story, so, I don’t want to give too much away. I will say this, though; five manila folders in a thin black wire basket completely changed the course of my entire life.

My bad news wasn't over just yet. My assistance officer explained to me that I was a special escort, not a trained one, and that I would need to pay my own way and expenses if I planned to make this trip. When I explained to her that I spent my last dollar on an attorney for my child custody battle, she offered me two choices. The first was an interest fee loan I could pay back later to cover the expenses aside from flights and lodging. The second, was to forfeit the mission all together and Blain's family would receive a randomly selected trained escort.

Y'all, there's no fucking way anyone else but me was going to receive my brother and bring him home. I signed for my loan, got my itinerary and headed out for Dover Air Force Base.

Before I knew it, I was in my dress uniform and entering a building on Dover Air Force Base. I was greeted by a few members of the Air Force who wanted to shake my hand, thank me and lead me to a room where all the casualty assistance officers were meeting. I could tell by the demeanor of everyone there that I was the only one with close ties to the person we were receiving. I sat quietly in an elegantly decorated room and waited for the instruction that was about to be given by another member of the Air Force. 

While our instructor explained to us what to expect during the dignified transfer on the flightline, there was a pause in the briefing before he asked, “Did anyone here know the deceased?”

I held my breath to keep myself from getting emotional and raised my hand. He then asked, “How did you know the deceased?”

At this point everyone in the room turned their head or body to locate me and see what I was about to say. I could hear the rustling of military dress uniforms and bodies adjusting to turn around and get a better view of me. I kept the most composed demeaner I could and replied; “I was a medic in his unit”. 

You’ve never heard fucking a room go so silent in your life. I’m pretty sure every person in there held their breath for a least a few seconds. The man giving the briefing dropped his mouth wide open and I could see from the corner of my eye’s that everyone else's did too. After a few moments of the most dead silence you’ve ever heard in your life, the room all glanced at each other before I could hear them rustling about again to turn back to their tables and their own paperwork and itinerary.  

Standing on the tarmac and holding back tears, I accepted the remains of my brother on the flightline and then quickly boarded a small plane to escort him back to Platsmouth Nebraska. There, we buried him in the way we all knew he wanted.

Once the burial was complete, I approached a member of the Patriot Guard of Nebraska to shake his hand and thank him for everything he did. This is when I lost it again and collapsed in tears. He shared a few words with me before pulling an item out of his vest and handed it to me in a firm handshake and a hug. I’ve kept that all these years and it’s still one of the most important tokens of my military service to this day.

Bringing Blain home was the deepest honor I’ve experienced in my life. It stuck with my soul and impacted me in ways I can't even begin to explain. There are so many cliche’s about freedom not being free but it’s a truth I’ve experienced numerous times and on many different levels. For me, this was a whole new perspective. I had seen my teammates fight and die on the battlefield before, but, I had never seen what goes on after the fact. The caring for their families and the commitment to carying out their wishes was a heart tugging experience that makes me even more proud to be an American.

In that summer of 2010, I learned that not everyone who losses their life in a war actually died there. Many of them still carry on amongst us every day while hiding the deepest grief of a lifetime. More than anything else, I learned that with every freedom we enjoy, a great sacrifice was made. I'm beyond proud to have had such friends who were brave enough to make such a sacrifice, and I'm honored to have carried them home.

"The American flag doesn't wave because the wind blows it. It waves with the last breath of every soul who gave their life to defend it. "

It's Memorial Day, y'all. Let's live a life worth their sacrifice.