That was the night my world changed forever
April 22, 2011 by awveterans
Filed under Bras & Boots, Most Recent Posts
Recently, I made a new friend. Her name is Jenny and she was referred to me by a Vet Center friend. She lost her granddaughter to suicide as a result of PTSD and meds one year ago. Her granddaughter’s name is Sara Leatherman. Sara served in the United States Army as a medic and was deployed to Iraq. Today, April 11th, is Sara’s birthday. She would have been 26, and we both agreed to have cake tonight in her honor.
I met Jenny today for lunch after she returned from visiting Sara’s grave site at the cemetery. I asked her if I could post a writing of Sara’s. She agreed, so here are Sara’s words:
“It was September 12th 2006. This night seemed like any of the 100′s of nights I had been in Iraq. People were out on convoy, others were working the aid station. It was nearing the time I had to get start getting ready for guard duty which pissed me off because no other medics in other units pulled guard duty. As I was getting all my gear together I got the news one of our convoys had been hit, it spread though the company like wildfire. I sat there racking my brain trying to think of who went out that night. I knew some of our medics had, but who? I was pissed because we were running those gravel missions. Yet, I couldn’t think who went out that night. Then I saw my roommate walking up, it was the time of night where the sun had just set so you could still see. I was the one who told her our convoy got hit. Instant panic set in to this young kid. She knew who was on that convoy. My best friend Johnson, another good friend Truesdale, and LT Perez. She was in a state of shock just for a moment, then all of her emotions flowed out and she was a mess. I knew I had to take care of her, but I also knew I had to leave I couldn’t be late for guard duty. So as quickly as I could I threw on all my gear and grabbed her. I took her to my other friends and explained the situation, handed her off and took off sprinting, gravel crunching under each hit of my boot. I made it to duty. Then it seem as if time slowed. Minutes seemed like hours. They were getting the news of what truck and who was in it. LT Perez KIA. I couldn’t be emotional, I had duty. Finally I got to the tower I was assigned for my eight hour shift. I was emotionally numb and trying to be vigilant. I could feel the coolness of the night through my body armor. It seemed almost fitting, but then the female I was on duty with broke down. I didn’t even know this girl and here I was taking care of someone else. When my shift was over I had never been so glad to be out of uniform and sleep. That was the night my world changed forever.”
RIP Sara Leatherman your family misses you.
Olga
I remember that night. My name is spc lisa R duran. Leatherman was taking over the guard duty shift for me that night. Surprisingly I have never seen her on guard duty before. She told me a convoy got hit and that lt perez was KIA. The night before I had dropped a tire on my foot and Leatherman nursed me and my NCOs put me on guard duty. She was a good friend to me, I jus wish I had enough time to help her and have kept in contact with her. When I found out what happen, I went to the VA for help and told them how much guilt I had for not being there for her and others I have lost alonbg the way. My unit transferred me to another unit after our return from iraq. She told me because I was suppose to be on convoy that night, that dropping the tire on my foot saved my life. I will always remeber her and lt perez for being brave and doing what they needed to do as soldiers. And I live with this guilt but at the same time grow stronger mentally each day because I know they would want me to pass along what I’ve been through to save hundreds more from their fate. RIP Sara, you are dearly missed
Sara is my daughter. I wish eberyday Sara was here and aware of all of people who care and understand. Thank you all.
Sincerely grateful,
Sara’s mom
P.S. the night she killed herself was Lt.’s bday.
Her last song was Blue October Into The Ocean
I had the pleasure of knowing and loving Sara, we were comrades in arms and served together in our medical company 204th. When the nights got unbearable and we couldnt sleep, we began painting on cheap canvas. We went to what we called the “bone yard” together when it got too much for her. Even though she was in another platoon, we found kindred spirits in each other. I felt I could help her through our ordeal and she helped me by letting me help. The gravel trips are something I will never forgive my command for,but….
I wish so many things could be diffrent or I could have made a bigger diffrence in her life. I went with her for her “619″ tattoo since we were both from San Diego. We remained friends even when she got out, but Sara’s pure heart and mind had seen too much and endured much more. There were a alot of us who clung to each other as a family out there and when we returned but they seperated out battalion way too fast for us to be able to heal with each other. I suffer from PTSD as so many of my comrades do and hurt for all lives lost. I spoke to Sara the last week of her life, but Sept 12 I was dealing with my own darkness and missed her call, Sara Im sorry and I will never forgive myself. I know you see me and will always help guide me but I will live with this foreever… I miss you and Im sorry..I love you, I know you knew that.
Livier Lazaro (Retired)
As I read this post and the comments posted here, my heart goes out to all of Sara’s friends, family and comrades. I wish I had adequate words to convey my deepest sympathy and words of comfort that would heal your hearts but I find anything I can think of to say, lacking.
There is very little I know for sure but in my own personal struggles with guilt and loss, I’ve come to believe that of all the dreams and hopes that those we’ve lost have for us, a life consumed with guilt is not one of them.
I didn’t have the honor of knowing Sara but I can sense her spirit just through her words and all of yours posted here – and I believe with all that’s in me that she’d wish for forgiveness, love and happiness for all those that knew her. Your holding on to the guilt doesn’t serve her memory but you living a life of love, peace and laughter – does.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and words. It has helped me in more ways than you know.
Light & Love,
Genevieve Chase
Founder
American Women Veterans
“I threw on all my gear and grabbed her. I took her to my other friends and explained the situation, handed her off and took off sprinting, gravel crunching under each hit of my boot. I made it to duty.
Sara extended love two ways that night – ‘handed off’ the woman who needed care and attention to those who could do it…and “sprinting…made it to duty” – did her job and in doing so, cared for the rest of us, too. Her guard duty wasn’t just for the folks around her, it was for us. For you and me, sitting in our living rooms or coffee shops or wherever you are reading this.
I talked to soldiers a few years ago. They had been req’d to pick up body parts after a chopper crash on a mountainside in Kosovo. They said there were little flags on the ground and they’d pick up pieces and put them in baggies. I remember watching and listening to them – a little emotion flashing and then steel eyes b/c that’s what they had to do.
You women who have lived war – you probably wouldn’t let me but I want to kiss you on the forehead and say thank you for taking care of each other and yourselves the best way you know how to do. Guilt is a pain in the ass. It takes away joy and contentment and you deserve both. Don’t let it keep you from your fullness. Don’t. That doesn’t serve you or those who’ve gone before you. Go get EMDR. Get on meds if you need to. And forget about what your jacket does/doesn’t say. Your life is more important – (that’s a comment from one of you btw.)
You all know honor and devotion in a way I never will. Thankful/grateful for all of you. And, with all of me… I’m so, so sorry for the loss of your beloveds. Sending love and peace.
Genevieve – you must not stop this important work.
Namaste.