Chris Kreiger is part of that other number associated with the war on terror. While most Americans know that over 2,000 soldiers have returned home in body bags since the first bombs fell on Baghdad, few could tell you that 15,000-plus have been wounded in the line of duty.
Fewer still could give an accurate description of what happens to these injured heroes when they arrive back on American soil. Most Americans would like to believe that a soldier injured in combat has the strong arms of one of the benevolent branches of the United States Armed Forces to fall into.
Chris Kreiger banked his whole life on that assumption, only to find an Uncle Sam full of hot air and empty promises. Now, only the kindness of a local cop and one of our area's best-known businesses is keeping the Kreiger family from sinking into an abyss of debt and despair.
What follows is a tale of two cities -- Baghdad and North Tonawanda -- and the disillusionment of a true patriot who feels betrayed by those who sit in ivory towers, charged with the responsibility of protecting the protectors.
Chris and Melissa Kreiger have been married for six years. For half of the North Tonawanda couple's marriage, Kreiger has been an absentee husband and father to their two sons. Kreiger wasn't out chasing skirts or arm-wrestling one-armed bandits, he was serving in locales like Bosnia, Ground Zero and Iraq as a combat medic and MP for the 105th Military Police Unit of the National Guard.
What started out as an opportunity to make a few extra bucks one weekend a month and two weeks a year turned into an up-close look at a hell most of us will never see. The experience has left Kreiger injured and suffering from trauma.
It has also left him teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.
To understand the story of Chris Kreiger, one needs to go back to the beginning. In 1992, while working full time in construction and as an EMT, Kreiger attempted to join the National Guard, but was disqualified because of a leg injury. He applied again in 1997 and was accepted.
"I was overjoyed. I'd always wanted to serve my country and I was finally getting my opportunity," Kreiger said.
A year later, he was sent to Bosnia. Ten months of close proximity to tank firings left him with permanent hearing loss in his right ear.
When terrorists struck on Sept. 11, 2001, Kreiger and the 105th were among the first wave of troops dispatched to New York City. Chris and his unit would stay for six weeks.
On Valentine's Day, 2003, the 105th touched down in Iraq, remaining there for 15 months. Those 15 months would impact Kreiger's life in ways that continue to define who he is and where he is headed.
While deployed, Kreiger was wounded on four occasions, the most serious being an ankle injury. Kreiger wanted surgery done on the ankle immediately. Because of the shortage of soldiers in the field, he says, the surgery request was denied and he was issued a set of crutches. He stayed in the field and on the job. The ankle injury worsened.
Things on the home front were not going much better. Kreiger's wife, Melissa, buckled under the pressure of caring for a newborn and an infant without the help of her husband. She was hospitalized on numerous occasions and had to give up her job of 10 years as a paramedic.
Kreiger returned home from Iraq to a life that was a shell of what he had known before joining the National Guard. His injuries prevented him from returning to work in construction. Flashbacks from his service experience made the blood that is part of an EMT's daily work unbearable.
Kreiger took a job at the Buffalo VA Hospital. It paid far less than he had earned previously, and the Kreigers soon found themselves swimming in debt.
In May of this year, he finally had ankle surgery. The military promised he would receive 100 percent compensation. After the surgery, they reneged on the promise.
"The surgery that was performed was done on my foot," Kreiger explained. "They said that wasn't the same injury -- it wasn't the ankle. I gave them statements from two surgeons saying that the surgery was proper. They both said the best way to heal the ankle was by operating on the foot."
The couple saw no other option but to sell their home.
That's when an angel by the name of Mark Lemke stepped into their lives.
Lemke, a longtime North Tonawanda policeman, is also a real estate agent for Hunt Real Estate. The Kreigers called him to list their home. After hearing their story, Lemke told the Kreigers he'd get back to them in a few days.
"He calls and said, 'We can't list your house,' and I'm thinking, what else can go wrong, now we can't even sell the house," Kreiger said. "When he came out and told us why, it just floored me."
Lemke said that he and his colleagues at the Hunt office in Wheatfield had decided not to help the Kreigers sell their home.
They were going to help the Kreigers keep it.
It's not often that a real estate agent turns down a commission in order to perform an act of kindness, but Mark Lemke doesn't view his gesture as extraordinary.
"I'm sitting here, living with my family in a nice home, while this guy went and fought for me, and I'm supposed to just sell his home and let his kids go live in some small apartment? No, I don't think so," Lemke said.
Lemke and the Hunt team went to work on behalf of the Kreigers. They solicited donations and reached into their own pockets to offer financial relief. They contacted the mortgage holder and explained their intentions, buying the Kreigers some much-needed time.
A benefit to aid the Kreigers will be held this Friday, Nov. 11, from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m., at the Gratwick Hose Fire Hall, 110 Ward Road, North Tonawanda. The benefit will feature plenty of food and drink, along with live music by the Flipside Band.
One thing that will probably never be repaired is Kreiger's allegiance to the federal government.
"I love my country, but I don't trust my government anymore. I'll always be a 100 percent full-blooded soldier, but the government has left a bad taste in my mouth," Kreiger said. "When they wanted to ship me out, I was there, no questions asked. Now when I need them, it's like, go to hell."
Kreiger makes it clear he's not looking for handouts.
"They wanted to put me on 100 percent disability. I'm not looking for welfare. I'm young and I can work. I just want what's fair and for them to live up to what they promised," he said.
It was tough for Kreiger to accept Lemke and the Hunt agency's proposal.
"At first I thought, if I can't support my family, I don't want any help. It was a pride thing. Then Melissa said, 'It's a blessing that people care about us,' and I realized that she was right."
Kreiger is ready to take his disappointment with the way injured war heroes are treated to a national audience.
"I'm ready to go to Oprah and go on CNN. People need to know what happens to injured soldiers when they come back home. They need to know that this government doesn't care about keeping their promises. What are they going to do, throw me in jail for telling the truth?" Kreiger said.
As in Charles Dickens' novel of the French Revolution, there is both sweetness and sorrow in this tale of two cities. And as Dickens limned the backdrop to his story saying, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," Chris Kreiger has found himself facing a paradox. An opening sentence like Dickens' deserves a closer of equal merit. Kreiger was up for the challenge.
"Here's a company who doesn't know me from Adam and they're trying to give me the world, while my own government doesn't want to give me a damn thing," he said.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Nov. 8 2005 |