Inside Mifflin Hall at Fort Lee, Va., 11 students gather in a room that could pass for a pre-med class. A model skeleton stands on wheels in one corner; a partially dissected plastic torso rests on a table in the rear. The instructor, Sgt. 1st Class Alisa Karr, begins the lesson with a review of the body’s bones.
But these soldiers are not studying anatomy to become medics. They are learning to care for the dead.
When these 11 students graduate from training at the U.S. Army’s Mortuary Affairs Center, they will earn the title 92M ”” military code for mortuary affairs specialist. Some of those who have volunteered to work with the dead will serve at collection points in Iraq and Afghanistan; others will work in the port mortuary at Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. They will help recover, identify and prepare the remains of fallen soldiers.
The 92Ms have cared for the majority of the more than 4,500 military casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan. They operate under a code of conduct that’s part scientific and part symbolic….
During my time in the military, I had the very great honor of being part of many funeral details. It was emotionally challenging duty, but I will always cherish the memory that I was able to give some measure of service to my fallen comrades and their families. I saw our function as one of assisting them with the grieving process and honoring their life and service.
I had visited Arlington National Cemetery and had purchased a bronze commemorative medallion of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I always carried that in my uniform pocket when I was doing those funeral details. We always did our very best for them. It was really hard sometimes to maintain my composure, but somehow, we all soldiered on.
I salute these mortuary affairs specialists…these soldiers. May God bless them.
I still have that bronze medallion. Someday, I will give it and my medals to my son. I will tell him stories that I hope will help him on his journey.
I, me, my, mine;
These are words I will not rhyme.
Us, we, ours, together;
These are words that last forever.
Thank you, Sergeant G. wherever you are.