The Forgotten Casualties

An open letter to the other – and often forgotten – casualties deserving of honor…

Last month was the month we recognized Police Week; a time each year both somber and celebratory, when those who care give tribute and appreciation to the men and women sworn and dedicated to serving and protecting, and those who wear the badge reflect and honor the lives and legacy of brother and sister officers lost.  It is a time for memorials and mourning, to contemplate what we do and the sacrifices of others in the service of our mission, and to draw energy to carry on.

It is fitting and right to pay tribute to those who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice, laying down their lives in service of their communities.  It is necessary we keep alive their memory and legacy, honor and thank the family and friends left behind, and promise to follow that sacrifice with diligent commitment to duty.  It is an opportunity to remind the public served, whether grateful, indifferent, or even resentful of that service, of the dangers law enforcement faces daily, and how quickly they can take everything.  And it is essential officers contemplate and learn from these tragedies, not to “Monday morning quarterback” them but in humble acknowledgement that life is fragile, danger near, and even the toughest among us is still mortal. 

We join in mourning the loss and sacrifice of these heroes.

It occurred to us, though, that there are huge numbers of cops who’ve sacrificed greatly with little fanfare or even acknowledgement, their lives and functioning forever changed, having suffered often permanent physical or emotional injuries – and sometimes both – from the demands and dangers of policing.  Their names will likely never grace a memorial wall.  The extent of the damage may not even be known to close friends and colleagues at work, extended family, or be visible to the naked eye.  Some soldier on, continuing to serve proudly and gladly, while others quietly retire on disability or otherwise leave policing for safer and less arduous pursuits.  Some may never again come close to feeling whole or healthy 

While recently talking to a friend, an officer currently on light-duty after a particularly nasty on-duty traffic accident that happened through no fault of her own and severely aggravated an earlier work-related injury that will likely end her career prematurely, we began thinking of others in same or similar circumstances and how common are these types of debilitating, career-ending injuries.  As we further considered law enforcement friends, colleagues, and clients we remembered even more whose wounds are not nearly so severe but still carry great impact even as they remain on the job. 

This letter may be speaking to you now.  Most police officers, given enough time and experience, will suffer a duty-related injury sooner or later, and likely several.  It happens and only the most naïve or overconfident think it cannot or will not happen to them.  As you age the risk becomes even greater as reflexes slow, joints stiffen, muscles don’t react or recover quite like they did in the early 20s, and foot pursuits and the occasional scuffle lose their fun edge and become more ominous and to be avoided.  Still, the job has demands and you have to rise up and meet them.  Most minor dings and bruises you will bounce back from, at least physically.  Some, though, cause lasting pain, diminish ease of movement and reduced physical function, and may even forever alter a life in disastrous ways. 

For some of you, the scars remain hidden to most casual observers but are no less (literally) real, etched upon brain and psyche in the form of PTSD, depression, anxiety, or other emotional disorders.  The cumulative stress of peering into the dark corners of human behavior and depravity, a life punctuated by too-frequent adrenaline highs and frustrating emotional lows, the constant wariness of knowing assault can come suddenly from any quarter, and the shock – despite that wariness – when the violence does erupt all change an officer in painful ways. 

Modern policing usually draws from some of the best and brightest young adults, at the height of physical fitness and idealistic enthusiasm, and sends them off to academy to further hone them physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Then, over the next twenty to thirty years, a great toll is taken on body and mind.  Maybe you’re feeling that toll even while vividly remembering the youthful, fit, just-excited-to-be-here you. 

Maybe you feel aches and pains, popping joints, and chronic stiffness that simply wouldn’t be there if you’d just stuck with accounting.  Perhaps you view the world through a dark and cynical lens, more often than not depressed at the seeming futility of it all you’d never have learned had you chosen a more upbeat, less gritty path.

And some of you have left the profession you loved sooner than planned, the damage too great to continue, forced out and your life forever changed by an injury you never really expected (but always kind of knew was possible), facing an uncertain future while knowing fully all you sacrificed for the job.  Hopefully you’ve landed well, moving on with acceptance of what is and a renewed outlook for what can be.  But for some we know fear still trumps hope. 

Even if you’re not in any of the above categories – even if you remain fit, well, and excited about being a cop – and you still come to work each day knowing life is fleeting, often unfair, and full of risks under the best of circumstances (let alone when your job is to confront the angry, irrational among us), this letter is still for you. 

We thank you. 

We thank you for your sacrifice of comfort, that you’ve given up the assumption of safety and easy confidence most people enjoy that work is a generally  safe place, and your willingness to dedicate your physical fitness and mental toughness to things that directly threaten them.  We thank you for a dedication to service so great you’d risk life and limb for people you don’t even know.  And for those who’ve suffered injury from that service, we thank you for your sacrifice. 

The “merely” injured are rarely memorialized though legion among your ranks.  This week we thought we’d do our part to draw attention to those who may not have given all, but have certainly given much.