A Reminder of a Marine in Need

About ten days ago I wrote of a young Marine Captain that needs to renovate his small house so as to accommodate his new life style, one that includes a left leg lost to an IED in Afghanistan. (A Wounded Warrior needs help.)

As with any house renovation the unexpected becomes the norm. While preparing to move load bearing interior walls, it was discovered that the floor joists were rotting and would need replacing. Needless to say, this has jacked up the cost of the renovation considerably.

If you can help out even a little--even if just the price of a cup of coffee or the Sunday paper, Captain Max Frank and his family would be most appreciative.

Donations can be made at Bring Him Home.

A Wounded Warrior needs help

I've been bitching and moaning about by knee problems the last week or so. (Well it hurts!)

(By the way, my solo outing last evening went well. Made it all the way across the county with nary a twinge in the knee while driving the manual transmission on the Jeep. Tomorrow Terry and I will head north to get the Tundra and, perhaps, the utility trailer and ATV.)

Okay, back to what I was going to say. Yeah, my knee hurts and pains me, but there are men and women out there with far greater hurts and needs than I. One of the m is Captain Max Frank.

Captain Frank is a buddy of my nephew Brian. His father, a judge, performed the service at Brian and Vicky's wedding in Milwaukee in late May. At that time, Captain Frank was in Afghanistan serving his country in one of the more dangerous hot spots in that God forsaken place. In mid-June, his company came under attack via IEDs--several of them in rapid succession. Captain Frank was hit and hit badly. He's lost most of his left leg as a result.

While medical treatment has been excellent, the government does not supply help in remodeling his home to make it handicapped accessible. It's going to cost a pretty penny to do that and he and his young wife could use some help.

Here's a link to Bring Him Home a web site dedicated to doing just that for Captain Frank. You can read about how he got into this predicament and what they need to do to get him back into his own house. Go read it and give this wounded warrior and his wife a helping hand if you can.

Meanwhile, here's the email I got from Brian:

Friends of Capt. Max Frank,

We’ve got a quick favor to ask and are writing to you with news both happy and sad. Happy in that Max is progressing like a champ ... like a Marine. He’s healing both physically and mentally despite the long road ahead, a road that will lead to independence and home. It is Max’s home in particular that we are writing to you about.

Sadly, home is a bittersweet thought for Max because his home is not within his current physical capacity. The good Captain’s home, like many around Camp Pendleton, might have been built with a Marine in mind, but a Marine with two feet - something that isn’t universal in these days when we ask them to defend us.

Max, Anna, and Mr. Stubby (his sense of humor has not been amputated) are currently living in a hotel, for the privilege of a wheel chair ramp, wide hallways, and an accessible toilet and shower. Our government, while “...of the people, for the people and by the people...”, has some limitations when it comes to taking care of the people who take care of it.

It may surprise most of you that in order to qualify for a Veteran’s Administration grant to remodel a bathroom, a wounded warrior needs to lose two limbs! The good news is Max does not qualify; the bad news is that without changes to his old home, he would have to hop over the tub and stand on one foot to take a shower. His prosthetic foot must be removed when he showers, so we have designed a bathroom that is handicap accessible and also has a bench seat and a hand held shower faucet. During the long journey to receiving his prosthesis and getting back to normal life, he’s bound to a wheelchair or walker, so some heavy remodeling is being done to widen the hallway and doors. Neither project is cheap, but both necessary to get back his mobility, self-reliance, and home.

As much as the lack of government support in this area is appalling, his medical care has been excellent and the attention to his physical therapy, in which Max is flourishing, is phenomenal. This is where we take over. Uncle Sam figures that he’s done his bit, now it’s our turn.

No problem, we’re up to the challenge. That’s why we have Bring Him Home

We may call ourselves patriots of this fine country which he defends; now we humbly ask that you call yourself supporters as well. Max has done his duty, without equivocation, so now it is time we do ours. Please dig into your pockets for the paper and plastic that can now help where handshakes, letters, and embraces cannot. Add up all those birthdays, holidays, Tuesdays, beers at the bar, and double downs on eleven that you were planning to spend, roll them up and make one big gesture today, when it’s needed most, to help renovate Max’s house to make it feel like home.

Think about it while you’re standing in the shower or walking down the hall, stumbling for that 2 a.m. bathroom relief or while you’re out for that morning jog. There are small physical victories in these acts that not all of us appreciate, equaled by greater moral victories won by giving freely to those we love who are in need. Please consider giving a meaningful amount.

While this Marine had no problem dwelling in a cinderblock and dirt base in the middle of the desert, showering with water jugs, or making a commode with a shovel, he now faces bigger challenges back home. A man’s home is his castle, but it turns out that some draw bridges aren’t handicap accessible. The two steps to get into his house might as well be a moat and the narrow hallways inside aren’t much better. 1960's bathroom architecture was not designed with a prosthetic foot or walker in mind, and the high sided tubs won’t make for the most pleasant, or safe of mornings. These are the things that only new walls, fixtures, and our generosity can fix.

Thank you for thinking of Max, Anna, and his family. Thank you for thinking of all our fighting service men and women. That phrase is usually followed by “at home and abroad” and it never felt more poignant. The war doesn’t stop when a Marine returns. He’s fought to get this far, please click on the link below to help bring him the last step home.

Bring Him Home

Semper Fi,

Brian Cole and Brook Benson

P.S. Please pass this on to anyone who knows Max, your family, friends, coworkers, and any independently wealthy patriots that you know. Let’s do the right thing and help our friend, who is a Marine far too self-reliant and proud to ask for our assistance of his own accord. Thank you.

John Philip SousaStars and Stripes Forever

"Do You Remember?"

This is a great, great little video that you really should watch.



I find the creator's need to cut off comments because of people who made nasty or even hate-filled comments about the video appalling.

(h/t Theo Spark)

"This Doesn't Define Me"

Go on over and read Esquire’s featured story by/about Sgt Bryan Anderson.

He’s a triple amputee from the Iraq conflict who will tire you out. And his attitude is the best!

You have two options once this happens: Roll over and die or move on. I chose to move on. I'm still me. I'm just 75 percent off. Get a great deal on Bryan Andersons this week. You know who actually told me that the first time? My mom. We were in Vegas, talking about T-shirts we should make, and she said 75 percent off. She said, You should get a shirt showing off your personality.

This doesn't define me. It may be how I look on the outside, but it's not who I am. I guess you could remember me easily as being a triple amputee, but it's not who I am, has nothing to do with who I am. I've always been the same person.

What’s he done since losing both legs and his left arm to an IED?

I've been wakeboarding, water-skiing, jet-skiing, tubing, rock climbing, snow skiing, playing catch with my brother. I try to do the same things. I'm not going to let it stop me. We did a 110-mile bike ride from Gettysburg to Washington, D. C. Sixty miles the first day, fifty miles the second day. Hand cycle, three wheels. I ended up ripping the glove, breaking the hand, breaking the whole socket. I might do it a little differently, but I'm still going to do it. I didn't actually get up water-skiing. I was up for a second then my arm ripped off and I fell.

I went up to Alaska for the National Wheelchair Games. I participated in two events, Ping-Pong and archery, and I won gold medals in both.

How does he feel about his loss?

Everything that has happened to me since I've been hurt has happened to me because I've been hurt. I got to go to the Pentagon. There's this quarter-mile-long hallway that is just filled with people, and I mean filled with people. There's a little space to go through and everyone is clapping and crying and coming up and hugging you. Okay, that's great. But what about all the people who did the same exact thing that I did that didn't get hurt? They should get the same recognition we do. We all did the same thing. Some people just got the shit end of the stick, that's all. It's all luck….

From every decision you make, you learn something, whether it was the right decision or the wrong decision. I believe everything happens to you for a reason, and it's going to happen to you regardless. So whether I was in Iraq fighting or I was walking across the street and got hit by a bus, it was going to happen to me regardless.

I don't regret anything.

Go read the entire very inspirational story of Sgt Bryan Anderson.

Hat tip to Cassandra at: Villainous Company (from whom I stole the title of this post)