notification

So I read a press release (link below) the other day, published earlier this year about the Navy’s policy on notification of family when there is a military death, particularly in referrnce to social media, but also covering their notification policies in general.  Although it is a Navy document, and not Air Force, I find that I often keep an eye on these types of things.  I think it is important that the military keep revisiting, revising, and improving their policies on a lot of issues - mainly to do with the mental health of servicemembers and suicide prevention policies, but also issues of providing support to grieving family survivors.  So in reading this particular article, I was mostly just skimming the contents for information when my eye got caught on some very startling words in the thirteenth paragraph.  It stated:

“It [the Navy’s Handbook] specifically says that when there is an ‘adverse incident,’ family members who are approached by someone about it should ‘explain that you do not know and they should not speculate.’”

I got stuck there with a small wave of remembrance and pain.  Those were the exact words Ryan’s commander had said to me on the phone the morning that Ryan died.  The exact words, “Ma’am, I do not know and please do not speculate.”  I know this particular handbook is advising civilian family members on what to say (and when), but those exact words are so familiar to me that I imagine they are written in some protocol book that military leadership are to refer to when dealing with an “adverse incident.”  You see, Ryan’s commander and squadron knew he had died before I did but they were not allowed to inform me, or anyone, over the phone.  The rule is that news of a military death is only shared in person - you know, like in the movies, where you see the car pull up in slow motion and two officers in their dress blues get out, walk up to the door, and deliver devastating news to the unexpecting wife or mom or whichever family member that the military member had designated to be notified on the paperwork they filled out when they first entered the armed forces.  The dreaded “knock on the door” as they call it that every military wife is aware of but never wants to actually think about.
For me, that particular day, I was in California and Ryan’s commander was in Texas.  When Ryan could not be located, I already knew that something devastating was happening.  In hysterics, when the commander called to tell me that Ryan had been located, I had specifically questioned him with: “Please just tell me - is he is alive?”   When his answer was, “Ma’am, I do not know and please do not speculate,” I knew.  I knew Ryan was no longer alive - if he had been, the answer would have been “yes.”  And “yes” was not the answer I received.  That was the moment I began to sink into a completely devastating shock.  In fact I barely even remember the next few phone conversations with the commander over the course of the next hour or so.  Most of that day, and the week or so following, are very fuzzy to my memory.  Shock does that to you.  But two phrases given over the phone that day are burned into my memory.
I did not know until weeks later,but in that hour following Ryan’s death, the commander had asked for and was granted special permission by the Pentagon to deliver the news to me over the phone since Ryan’s death was already being reported by a local news agency in Texas.  The only two phrases I remember from those conversations are forever burned into my memory.  The first one being: “Ma’am, I do not know and please do not speculate.” And the second one coming later was: “I have been authorized to tell you that your husband’s body has been taken to the coroner.”  I am pretty sure that was the point when I dropped the phone, threw a glass of water someone had given me, and screamed in overwhelming pain, shock, and fear.  The rest of that day is pretty much lost in my memory except a fuzzy rememberance of officers from the local Air Force base knocking at the door, arriving as part of the military protocol, to confirm the news of Ryan’s death to me in person.
I had not realized, until reading this recent press release, that those original words spoken to me, “I do not know and please do not speculate,” were the words that are “authorized” to be said in these situations.  What a weird thing to realize and understand.  I guess it kind of amazes me that almost two years later I could still be piecing together some of the events of that day.

my Ryan’s dignified arrival and homecoming ceremony

 The link to the press release article: Navy Handbook