Honoring: Marine Sgt. Kevin B. Balduf
In my first blog post ever, I promised to share the article that inspired “Eyes To See.” It just so happens the article came from events that transpired while I was deployed as an Army Nurse Corps Officer at Camp Dwyer, Afghanistan. During one of my last days in country, we had a mass casualty event leading to the injury and death of a number of Marines. My role in the ER that day left me with so many questions to process once I returned back stateside to my friends and family. In the piece below, I share some of my thoughts and the gift of peace that God brought in an unusual and supernatural way.
Marine Sgt. Kevin B. Balduf may never know the full impact he has had on my life, but I hope that through sharing his story and those of many others, we can continue to honor him, his family, and their sacrifice for our country. After my initial article was public, I had an outpouring of responses and felt affirmed and encouraged to do more writing. I am eternally grateful for the perspective shift this one man had on my life on May 12, 2011. Check it out below.
I am a registered nurse. During my time in Afghanistan, I worked in a CSH or combat support hospital in an austere part of the country, working with some of the most incredible Marines I have ever met. As you can imagine, most of the Marines I encountered weren’t there to chit chat — they were there to be mended and sent back to the fight. One May evening in 2011, the radios were hot with information that we would be receiving six injured Marines. As we unloaded these men from the helicopter, the first guy was my patient. Quickly, as we ushered this young man off the helipad, we learned our only job would be to pronounce his time of death. Parts of him, to include his face, were already covered up. Unfortunately, today would be a day when we wouldn’t be able to save them all. A medic and I emptied his pockets of all his belongings to place them in a bag that would later be sent to his family. I remember taking a journal out of his side arm pocket, with a picture of two little girls in it. And that’s when it hit me the hardest. These guys were risking their lives for our country every day, never knowing if they would see their own families again, willing to give it all for people they didn’t even know. This nameless, faceless guy gave his life for me to live in freedom.
As I, several years later, continued to reflect on this particular night I felt drawn to know the name of this specific Marine. Part of what made the whole experience easier was not ever having to see his face or know his name. I was reluctant at first, but I went online to find out who had been killed in action on May 12, 2011. I found his name, Sgt. Kevin Balduf. As I read more, I realized he was buried in Arlington National Cemetery, just two minutes from where I lived. It was around March when I found this out. Weeks went by and there was restlessness that I couldn’t shake. The only thought that gave me peace was to visit Kevin.
On May 12, 2014, the three year anniversary of SGT Kevin Balduf’s death, I asked three friends to accompany me to Arlington National Cemetery. I walked through the thousands of white headstones in Arlington, I thought about how I never even knew this guy. I never saw his face. I shouldn’t need to visit his grave for peace. As we approached his headstone, I knelt and wept. There was a picture of him and an empty plate of what looked like chocolate cake. Someone had recently been there. Every part of me that tried to push away the reality of this guy Kevin for the last three years broke down. Kevin was real. Then, it happened. I heard a woman say, “Excuse me. Did you know Kevin?” I was shocked. Who was this? A million answers to her question went through my mind, but I settled with, “I was his nurse in Afghanistan.” She quietly responded with, “I’m Kevin’s mom…and this is Kevin’s twin brother, Kyle.”
For three years, I tried to suppress the memory of Kevin’s death. I chose to make Kevin nameless and faceless. Within a few moments, he had a name and I could see his face through his twin brother. We all took a moment to collect ourselves and then Kevin’s mom asked, “I do have one question. I never received a bag of his belongings. We always wondered what he kept in his pockets and if he had a photo of his little girls.” This woman asked the ONE and only question I would be able to answer for her. Through tears, I responded, “Yes ma’am. He kept a photo of his girls in his side arm pocket.”
As we walked away that day, for the first time in years, I felt peace about the death of that once nameless, faceless Marine. Kevin risked it all, gave it all, sacrificed it all, and took it all for Americans to live in freedom.
As we approach Memorial Day this year, I would challenge you to take a moment to remember not just Sgt. Kevin Balduf, but also the MANY Americans who have paid the ultimate price for us to live. In an area like DC where we have countless military, veterans, and their families, we have the privilege to honor their daily obedience and sacrifice.
And lastly, if you hear a little whisper or feel a little stirring in your heart…you never know what is on the other side of one step.
Thank you Kevin. If you knew Sgt. Balduf or would like to add more about his character or life, please allow this to be a place to honor him by replying below.