David Hernandez and Elaine Brower at the Marine Corps Reserve Center
(Photo: Richard J. Marini / NLN)

On Saturday three of us from Staten Island, members of MDS, traveled to the Garden City, Long Island Marine Corps Reserve Center, home of the 2/25 Battalion, my son’s unit. Over the course of the morning about 200+ marines and sailors arrived there, soon to be deployed to Iraq. The Garden City location is the “Home Training Center” (HTC) for some military units from all over the east coast area.

So we packed up our 1 gallon Ziploc bags with literature to give to the deploying troops. We had enclosed the Military Project’s “Why We Are Here” statement; the GI Rights pamphlet; the March 2008 issue of “Traveling Soldier”, home baked brownies and cookies, and “Sir, No Sir! DVDs. The three of us arrived at the main entrance of the building at around 9 AM. Since the main gate was open, we decided to take the car inside and park it there. Bravely we approached the main sentry gate, where it was buzzing with marines in desert cammies and sidearms, with extra rounds!

(Photo: Richard J. Marini / NLN)

I went up to the window and asked if we could distribute the literature that I had handed over to the Sgt. on duty so he could look at it. I told him it was information for the military members, and he said “OK, you could stand right over there.” So we did, about 20 ft. from the sentry. Pretty neat, but we were hoping he wouldn’t take the time to open the bag and start reading everything inside.

Well, that didn’t last long, although we did hand out about 4 packets, before we were told we couldn’t stand there because there was a statement about “opposing the war in Iraq.” Funny how words matter. With that I asked where we could stand, and the Staff Sgt. In charge walked over and said “you could stand by the main gate, on the sidewalk.” So we headed out there, and handed out a few more packets to very disgruntled marines. Not a real happy crew that morning.

As we were standing there, another Sgt. wandered in our direction and walked up to us asking what we were doing. I had a sign with a slogan that my son told me his Gunny had used all the time, “The Military is at War, while America is at the Mall”. This Sgt. grilled me as to who I was and why we were there. I told him what our purpose was, and that my son, Sgt. James Brower, was coming here shortly and would be deployed for his third tour soon. He didn’t recognize the name, and looked a bit suspicious of me. But then he read the poster with the slogan I had printed, and he said “Oh, we had that written on a wall in Fallujah last time I was there!” He smiled and said “OK, have a nice day,” and left.

About 20 minutes later a Garden City Police car approached us. I knew the drill, and was expecting this. The officer drove directly up to me and asked me what we were doing, and then said “I really know why you are here, and I respect your right to be here…” he was actually very, very nice to us. He parked and got out of the car, took a lit package, and said that he was getting calls from inside the base, not from the command but from the marines themselves, who said we were “upsetting” the family members there to see their loved ones off for their deployment. I told him my son was coming shortly, and I would say goodbye to him also, and this is how I felt about his deployment, and that maybe some of those military families shared our feelings, and would welcome our literature.

(Photo: Elaine Brower / NLN)

He agreed, and really tried to explain the “ordinances” about standing on the sidewalk, walking into the street, etc., etc., and didn’t want to have to arrest us, really! He said he wanted to go inside the gate and speak with the marines, which he then did. We stayed there and kept handing out as much literature as we could, although the traffic was light.

We could see, about 100 yards away, 6 marines, with sidearms and extra ammo, speaking directly with this officer. Hands were moving, heads were moving, and the conversation was very intense from the looks of it. We just waited. Interestingly, we got a few honks by drivers, responding to the sign I had printed. The officer returned, as I had expected, and said that the marines were upset. They really didn’t want us standing there, and even though we had a right to be there, he said he didn’t want trouble. I jokingly said “I guess maybe they will get a sniper on the roof if we keep standing here.” He grinned and said he really respected what we were doing, but just to keep everyone “happy” maybe we could stand on the median by the traffic light, or across the street on the grass.

So we moved across the street, since we didn’t think getting shot at was in our plan that morning. We had our literature and signs and got some honks. With that my son drove up to me and stopped right in the middle of traffic, with the officer, and now a newly arrived Sgt. from Garden City Police watching us. My son said, “Hey, ma, I need money.” I told him to go behind us where there was a small parking lot. He went in the wrong entrance and drove up behind me, where the Sgt. got out of his SUV and sauntered over to scold me and him about blocking traffic and turning in the wrong way.

As my son was asking me again about how much money I had, because he had NONE, the Sgt. saw his Veteran plates and USMC window sticker. Amazing how things changed in an instant. He said “I was just about to tell you that you were blocking traffic and made a wrong turn, but then I realized who you were,” he said both to me and my son. I told him he was asking for money and I had to chase him from the street, so I wouldn’t get into anymore trouble! The Sgt. said “He must be your son if he is asking for money!”

I gave a lit bag to my son, as well as $50, and he told me that “family day” was Tuesday, and then he would deploy next weekend, “Bye, ma!” And he drove off. I guess the 2 officers saw the look on my face and decided it wasn’t worth scolding me any longer. The SUV left, and the one officer drove up and said “I am leaving now, and I read the leaflets. Really good stuff in here, really, I mean it.” I told him to watch the movie, and he said he would. He said to all of us “Look, if you have any problems out here you call 911 and I will be right back. I want to protect you too.” With that he left, and we stood for another 15 minutes on a little patch of grass, holding our signs. At least the sun was shining, so I looked on the bright side.

We handed out maybe 1 dozen lit packets, after making 125 of them the night before hoping to capture the marines on their way in. As we left, I really didn’t feel all that well, nor did my comrades. We did stir things up on the base, however. We realized that if the written word could cause that much distress and upset to a base full of marines and sailors, then we were on to something. Morale must be really low and they must be really worried.

The rest of my day was filled with despair over the outreach that was the worst I had ever done. But then about 9 PM that evening my son called. The first thing he asked was “Did you get arrested?”, I told him we left right after he went inside. He said he came back out looking for me but I wasn’t there, so he assumed I got nailed! I wasn’t looking to get arrested that day, so we gave it up.

He then told me that as soon as he got inside everyone he ran into asked him about me. And he saw the papers we handed out all over the main area. They asked, “Was that your Mom? And why was she handing out these newsletters?” He told them, “Yeah, that’s my Mom, and my Mom is my Mom. She does what she does to help you guys, because she cares about all of you!”

Not such a bad morning after all.