KnowECG

As a lot of the shock has worn off and the fog of grief has begun to lift, the new reality, new to me anyways, has started to set in.  The various emotions elicited by the loss of such an intense relationship has covered the entire spectrum, love, hate, loneliness, disgust, outrage...and on.  As I was thinking about all of this early on, I tried to equate it with something else, anything else like it which has happened in my life to somehow get a reference point.  For me the closest event I could recall is the death of Early C.G.  ECG are the real initials of someone I knew some time ago, he was a 20yr. old from Cincinnati, like me had been drafted and we were both in SouthEast Asia at the time, I have seen his name on the wall, in person, so I know all of this happened, I know this was real...I knew him for 10mos., and when I say knew him, I mean I really knew him...and, he knew me.  I'm sure you have heard before how the bonds developed while enduring traumatic situations are exceptional and I for one can attest to the validity of that proposition, at least in our case that was true.  Our particular trauma was a war and he and I lived through some very should I say exciting, If not altogether desired times.  He and I became very close during those months, maybe because we were both city guys, maybe because we both love to talk about cars, maybe because we found facing possible death, easier with one another...whatever the reason, we  connected.  

ECG and I shared almost everything, from long distance disruptions in our relationships with our special ones through the mails, to hard crackers and cold chili, right down to 2ft. deep holes that we used for sanitation. We probably knew more about one another than our own families did in a lot of respects at that point, and this is one thing that both my relationship with Donna and with ECG shared; the high end emotional investment.  Of course, on many levels it was different with my wife, it had to be, but in some areas it was just as deep, and just as cherished. ECG and I pulled duty together, we fought together, laughed together, we bent the rules together, watch our buddies die together and we cried together.  We truly liked each other and for sure loved one another and would have, and did, in a lot situations, do whatever was necessary for the other.  Again much like the relationship I enjoyed in a different venue with Donna.  In those first early days, when I thought Donna's loss would destroy me, as I teetered on the edge, I thought about ECG a lot, it was the only thing I could remember which had anything approaching a similar effect; some years ago my dad died, and I was sad, but not like this; a few years later my youngest brother was killed in an automobile accident.  He and I had shared a special relationship, but his loss had not been close to what I was feeling now, this feeling about Donna's loss.  But, ECG, now, as I wrestled with the almost impossible to believe fact that Donna was gone, his loss came to mind.  I think I was looking for some type of sign post, some way to gain a perspective in order to deal with what was surely the worse thing that had happened to me so far, Donna's death.

As the time drew near for ECG to prepare for coming home from overseas, and as I was only a couple of weeks behind him in leaving, we were brought in from the field together.  They housed us in separate areas, ha! No matter, we ended up staying in the same billet anyway.  ECG and I had grown to enjoy the fruits of mother nature, and it was not unheard of to find us laying on one of the beaches of the South China Sea, blowing smoke and idling our time away as we waited for our tour of duty to come to an end; we might, watch a volleyball game or go for a swim, but not often, much of our time was spent explaining to one another the various images we could make out in the clouds that appeared to be painted on that beautiful blue sky. We blew smoke and dreamed our own private dream of going home; man, I loved that sky.  

A few days before he was scheduled to leave we organized an afternoon going home beach party for ECG, I along with guys from other units whom we both knew, scrounged the necessary goodies, found a good spot on the beach and proceeded to raise hell.  At one point, after the giving of gifts, the making of promises to stay in contact, and a lot of crying and lying, ECG along with some of the other guys decided to go for a swim.  The party on land continued.  Later, as the sun began to set and guys strayed in from the water we all gathered around the fire and talked.  Eventually I realized that ECG was not there; it was dark now, and we strolled the beach looking for him, thinking maybe he had joined other gatherings on the beach, we checked latrines, other parties which were going on, boathouses and the like, no ECG.  Maybe he had met someone he knew and they had tripped off.  The later it got the more worried we became, after a few hours we had to give up searching due to darkness and a slow realization that maybe something had happened to him.  I went back to our area, where we shared sleeping quarters, no ECG.  His things were there, packed, just as he had left them earlier that very afternoon.  I was in a panic the entire night; EGC and I always ended the day the same way, a smoke and a soda. The next morning, at formation, no ECG, at morning chow, no ECG, line up for detail, no ECG,  time to watch clouds, no ECG...I just knew something was wrong.

Later it was determined that ECG had drowned in the South China Sea that night; evidently taken out by an undertow, like so many others, his body was never recovered. As I sat and thought about the loss of Donna, this entire memory of ECG returned to me; I had not thought about it in a long, long time.  Now it appeared with such vividness that it unsettled me. I remembered how, back then, I was stunned at the thought that ECG was gone, would not be catching that freedom bird back to the States...I remembered how dismayed I felt as I watched the two soldiers from Graves Registration clear his locker and pack his belongings which were right next to my own bunk, somehow I felt offended at them handling his things.  That was the saddest day for me, not only of the war, but of my life to that point.  I loved ECG, and for two days I did nothing but lay on my bunk; First Sergeants do not get to where they are by being stupid, and ours was no exception, no one said a word to me about missing formations or about not showing up for details, I was ready if anyone had; the fact that we all had rifles may have played a part in that, I don't know. Being only really able to cry when I was alone somewhere or at night by pressing my face deep into the pillow to smother the sobs, because at that time, men, especially soldiers were simply not allowed to display that emotion in the open, I cried, I remembering crying my ass off.  I'm sure part of that crying was about the war and other buddies we had lost, about sensing that gazing at the sky would never be the same again, about all of it, but I could only think of ECG and how he would not be making that trip back home, not alive at any rate.  

There was serious grieving going on there, I just didn't realize it.  Not the exact type associated with Donna's departure, but a strong and powerful grief just the same. Of course at that time I had coming home to look forward to, I had a child I had never seen to acquaint myself with,  and although that also was a traumatic event, maybe these things helped ease the loss of ECG somehow.  Now all those things and more have become history in my life, I'm not certain just what there is to look forward to, but I hope there is...something, I want to have faith that there is.  I want to look forward to something, almost anything, but confusion and uncertainty are reigning supreme at the moment and while one moment the future appears bright and hopeful, at other times it shows itself as bleak and unwelcoming.  I am trying to convince myself that no matter which of these it turns out to be, I will face it and somehow make it through.  The differences between the two losses in some ways appear to be so great, but I think that at the core of both of them is one common thread: the pain, devastation  and sadness of loss for a truly special relationship.  I am truly trying to have faith that just the next 24hrs will be, not necessarily better, but will at least reveal that progress is being made.

So, it continues as we try to move forward...