He, like thousands of young men and women across the country, made a conscience decision and responded to a higher calling after the events of 9/11 to “preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic.” His subsequent tours were his personal call to arms in his country’s quest to rid the world of terrorism. And whether you personally agree or disagree with our country’s efforts in this mission, we should all be grateful to him, and to all military personnel, for their service.
Ironically, however, it was his triumphant return from his service that began his downward spiral as a returning civilian. He’d done his time, he’d served abroad, and miraculously he had returned home. I remember the way Anna’s entire demeanor lit up when she announced he was coming home, even for a visit. She always managed to put her hectic life on hold for two weeks so she could spend quality time with her brother – cook-outs and parties in the front yard, lasting late in to the night – filled with joy and celebration at the safety of Mills and the chance to spend another moment with him. That was time I know he and his entire family cherished. Those will forever be beautiful memories.
When that mighty Marine returned home for good though, he wasn’t the same Mills his family or friends had said goodbye to years before. Life for him, was not as he had left it. He wasn’t able to be the fun-loving, adventurous, laid back Mills we knew. Now he was burdened, suffering, lost, alone, and desperate. His heart was darkened. So darkened that sadly, he may not have been able to see or feel the love of Christ. Sometimes we feel so alone and so weighed down by our pain and disappointments in life that we feel cut off and numb to any relief or comfort even from God. But the Bible tells us that God in His loving grace NEVER abandons us.
Difficulties in dealing with some of the things he had seen and done overseas were unshakable and resulted in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They affected his sleep, they affected his daily functions, they affected his family. He became afflicted with thoughts, images, and sounds that caused him incredible suffering. His family saw his desperation and sought help through multiple avenues. However, despite their best efforts, Mills was unable to get the treatment he needed. Mills was living with enemies on an even closer than domestic basis. He was trained to protect himself and others from the demons that were controlling his mental and emotional stability. All we can assume is that he concluded that the best way to fight the demons was to kill them.
Obviously his loss is significant, as are the thousands of veterans who make the same choice due to lack of treatment caused by overwhelming demand. In fact, the Veterans of Foreign Wars reports that “since 9/11, more military personnel and veterans have committed suicide than have been lost on the battlefields in Iraq and Afghanistan combined.” Like Mills, those veterans sought deliverance from the intense suffering they experienced as a result of their service to our country.
Tragically for us, but thankfully for him, Mills was granted that deliverance by our loving Lord. We are each placed on God’s earth for a purpose. The Bible tells us that God loves each of us and has a plan for us. Rather than be sad for Mills, rejoice that he fulfilled God’s plan for him…otherwise he would not have been called home to Heaven. The Bible is full of stories of deliverance…example after example of our gracious Lord removing pain and suffering from our lives and curing demons. What happened to Mills, from birth to death, was not an accident. It was all carefully orchestrated by our Creator and Redeemer. When His path for us comes to an end, there is a beautiful room in Heaven waiting for us. Imagine the peace and tranquility Mills is finally experiencing in his room! Praise the Lord for that. The prayers all of us offered for healing and help for Mills have been answered…he is with the ultimate healer and is no longer experiencing the extensive mental and emotional devastation he suffered here on Earth in his last days, weeks, and months. Mills’ mission is complete.
I’d like to share a poem…although the author is unknown, I think it is a message Mills would like us to hear.
To my dearest family, some things I’d like to say,
But first of all to let you know that I arrived okay.
I’m writing this from Heaven, where I dwell with God above,
Where there are no tears or sadness, there is just eternal Love.
Please do not be unhappy, just because I’m out of sight,
Remember that I’m with you, every morning, noon and night.
That day I had to leave you, when my life on earth was through,
God picked me up and hugged me, and said, ‘ I welcome you’.
‘It’s good to have you back again.
You were missed while you were gone.
As for your dearest family, they’ll be here later on.
I need you here so badly as part of my big plan.
There’s so much that we have to do, to help our mortal man’.
Then God gave me a list of things he wished for me to do.
And foremost on that list of mine, is to watch and care for you.
I will be beside you, every day of the week and year,
And when you’re sad I’m standing there, to wipe away the tear.
And when you lie in bed at night, the day’s chores put to flight
God and I are closest to you in the middle of the night.
When you think of my life on Earth, and all those loving years,
Because you’re only human, there’s bound to be some tears.
One thing is for certain, though my life on Earth is over,
I am closer to you now than I ever was before.
And to my many friends, trust God knows what is best.
I am not far away from you, I’m just beyond the crest.
There are rocky roads ahead for you and many hills to climb,
Together we can do it, taking one day at a time.
It was my philosophy and please I’d like for you,
To give unto the world, so the world will give to you.
If you can help someone who’s in sorrow or in pain,
Then you can say to God at night, my day was not in vain.
And now I am contented that my life it was worthwhile,
Knowing as I passed along the way, I made somebody smile.
When you’re walking down the street and I am on your mind,
I’m walking in your footsteps, only half a step behind.
And when you feel a gentle breeze of wind upon your face,
That’s me giving you a great big hug, or just a s oft embrace.
When it’s time for you to go from that body to be free,
Remember you are not going, you are coming home to me.
I will always love you, from that place way up above,
I will be in touch again soon.
P.S. God sends his love.
We will all miss him because we all loved him, and will continue to love him. But just as Mills’ life was not lived in vain through his value to us as a son, a brother, a friend, a Marine, nor should his death be in vain either. I would encourage each of you to leave here today with a mission of your own. The motto of the Veterans of Foreign Wars is to “honor the dead by helping the living.” Honor Mills’ death by helping his comrades at arms. Make a contribution to the VFW, volunteer to visit VA hospitals in your area, say a word of thanks to those you see in uniform, SEEK other ways to help veterans and their support groups cope with this national tragedy. And when you do, remember to do it for Mills.
- Marnie Hudson 10/23/2009
Over the years that Mills and I have been friends we’ve done a lot of things that have resulted in stories. There is a particular story that I would like to share that speaks to the kind of friend he was. Already at 15 we had had our fair share of run-ins with the local friendly neighborhood police, much to the disdain of our parents. Naturally this is exactly the type of thing that young men bond over. While this is not what we had in mind when we snuck out of my parents house at 1 A.M. on a cold January morning it was what resulted. Mills and I had departed on a mission we liked to call “combating light pollution.” The main goal of this campaign was to shoot out unnecessary street lights that were affecting what we believed to be the “welfare of the community.”
Well, for whatever reason, neither the neighbors nor the police seemed to share our sentiment about the subject. So it was that on this freezing evening while we were practicing our aim with his new BB gun that we noticed bright lights coming around the corner of the road. Quickly I ran to one side of the road and he ran to the other. We didn’t realize that we had a problem until the car stopped next to the street light that we had just shot out. I was crouched behind a bush when someone got out of the car and started shining a flashlight around the yard.
What I heard next was “Suspect one is in the bushes.” At this point I stood up slowly and said “I surrender please don’t shoot me.” What I realized then was that I was alone. Mills had escaped across the street and it seemed that they weren’t going to search there. He had chosen the right side of the road and in doing so gotten away. Then they asked me “where’s the other one?” To this I replied stutteringly “I..I..I don’t know.” Then from across the street came Mills slowly walking with his hands in the air, he had come back so I wouldn’t be alone. Mills was always there for his friends, even if that meant getting in serious trouble.
One of the things we had discussed was writing a book together. We wanted to collect the stories of veterans and put them together in a compilation. I wanted to make long term plans with him, anything for him to focus on. He sent me two stories and in one of them he wrote this about one of his deployments:
“I am focused on the task at hand. The mission is foremost in my brain. We are clearing the main service road of IEDs. It’s my favorite patrol. Laced with danger but everything we find may save someone’s life.”
Even when his life was in danger he thought about helping other people, about their welfare not his. People rarely get friends like him, a friend who is fiercely loyal, willing to fight for you, beside you and die for you. So I feel very lucky to have had him in my life for as long as I did.
For the past few weeks Mills and I had been renewing our friendship. We had been separated by years of military service and deployments. One night not so long ago he called me and told me that he was in trouble. I went to pick him up and we sat in his truck and talked. He told me that he sometimes felt like a bad person. I told him that he was wrong and that there were so many people who knew that wasn’t true. I gave him a big hug and held onto him. He was in so much pain. So much that it sometimes hurt for him to be conscious or sober. He opened up to me about memories that were so painful to him that it made him cry. He cried and cried and I cried with my best friend that night and cried and cried. If only he could see how many people loved him and who knew that he was a good and beautiful person.
I know that he has found peace. I know that those memories and broken thoughts that plagued him are quiet and dark. The light has been turned off for his pain.
In my head Mills is still sitting next to me in that police car saying “Oh crap we are in so much trouble.” He is still driving the Taurus around like a maniac. He is still sitting next to me smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer and laughing about high school. I also know that there is still a part of him patrolling desert streets looking out for his comrades in arms.
I miss you Mills, goodbye my best friend. – William Brown
