Bonnie Healey LCSW

Bonnie Healey LCSW Bonnie Healey is the owner of Hope and Meaning Counseling and an Army Reserve social worker.

PA & KY Licensed Clinical Social Worker
PA Certified Alcohol & Drug Counselor
Board Certified Diplomate

I may have left Kuwait, but I still want to help with the mens’ support group we started for men experiencing relationsh...
07/19/2025

I may have left Kuwait, but I still want to help with the mens’ support group we started for men experiencing relationship concerns.

🐪The image attached is for Camp Beuhring🐪

I have always thought that men’s mental health does not get the attention and support it deserves. While I am out in the Middle East, I want to do as much as possible to create programs that address some of the unique concerns that male service members have and hopefully set up programs that can continue even after I go back home.

I am always looking for new ideas to support male and female service members from all branches of service – if you have any ideas, please feel free to send me a message. I am currently at PSAB and I’m serving as the Army Behavioral Health OIC - anyone at PSAB is welcome to stop in and say hello anytime. We have the usual Behavioral Health services available, but we are always open to suggestions and new ideas!

06/29/2025

A woman once came to a river to collect water when she noticed a snake on the shore—wounded, weak, and writhing in pain.
Moved by compassion, she scooped it up and carried it home.
The snake spoke:
“If you care for me, I’ll protect you in return.”
So they made a pact.
She treated its wounds, offered warmth and food—not out of affection, but with hope that its promise of protection would come true.
And the snake, in return, kept watch—not from loyalty, but because it was being fed.
Nights passed peacefully as it patrolled the home.
Mornings were quiet walks through the woods, coffee shared like old friends.
From the outside, it looked like harmony.
Until one day, without warning, the snake bit her—and vanished.
Shocked, heartbroken, and in pain, she cried out—not just from the venom, but from the betrayal. She searched her home, desperate for answers. But the snake was gone.
Still poisoned, she wandered the world—through forests, deserts, valleys—determined to understand why.
At last, in a dark cave, she found the snake again. Her voice trembled:
“Why did you bite me? I saved you. I gave you shelter.”
The snake replied:
“I didn’t want to. But you held me too tightly. I needed to escape. Biting was the only way.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask me to let go?”
They argued—she in pain, he in deflection.
No apology. No clarity.
Just two voices lost in blame and bitterness.
Time slipped away.
Eventually, the woman stumbled into a hospital, her vision fading, breath shallow. She collapsed at the door.
As the world dimmed, she heard a voice say:
“She waited too long. Searching for answers when she needed healing.”
Sometimes, the most dangerous thing you can do after being hurt
is go looking for why.
The people who betray you rarely offer truth.
Not because it isn’t there—
But because they don’t care enough to give it.
You won't find peace in someone else's poison.
You won't find closure in someone else's conscience.
If you've been wounded—by words, by betrayal, by silence—
don’t go chasing explanations in places where empathy doesn't live.
Choose you.
Choose healing.
Choose forward.
Because your soul was never meant to waste away
waiting for a snake to say sorry.

Meme via Phoenix Rising-Still I Rise private, confidential group.
Link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1712819162211673

06/25/2025

Military mom Patricia Kutteles fought for over a decade to repeal the US military's “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell" policy after the murder of her son in 1999. Following months of homophobic bullying, Kutteles’ son, Barry Winchell, was beaten to death by a fellow soldier while sleeping in his barracks. After testifying at the trial of his killer, Kutteles spent years advocating for an end to the discriminatory policy which she said “says to other service members that g**s in the military are second-class citizens, that they are not worthy of the respect dictated in the Army’s values."

In a statement after the conviction of her son's killer, Kutteles further asserted: "We knew Barry could be deployed and come into harm’s way for our country. We never dreamed that he would be killed by labeling, prejudice and hatred at home. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t pursue’ did not protect our son. It won’t protect anyone else’s child. This policy must end. Those who assert that the law serves to protect g**s in the military are wrong -- it corroborates the fears and bigotry of those who are anti-gay. Worse, it encourages those who are prone to violence to act on their rage.”

Winchell, an aspiring helicopter pilot, was 21 years old when rumors began to spread about his sexuality after he started dating a transgender woman. At the trial after his death, his section leader testified, “Pretty much everybody in the company called him derogatory names" but that he didn’t put a stop to it because “everybody was having fun.” Kutteles said in an interview that she never knew if her son was gay or not but that "it didn’t matter to me one way or the other, and Barry would know that;" what mattered, she asserted, was "the fact is, he was murdered, and he was on an Army base, where we thought he was safe.”

After Winchell’s murderer was convicted and sentenced to life in prison -- but the officers who allowed the harassment were deemed not at fault -- Kutteles became a fierce advocate for the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Working with the LGBT advocacy group Outserve-SLDN, now the Modern Military Association of America, she spoke on Capitol Hill, filed a wrongful death claim against the Army accusing the officers of neglect, and pressured the Pentagon to launch an investigation which found widespread anti-gay harassment in the military.

OutServe-SLDN's director Matthew Thorn praised her efforts in a tribute, stating: “Pat’s voice was pivotal in the repeal of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.' In what I can only imagine was a most difficult time for her she had a resolve to share her son’s story and her story as a mother, losing her son because of anti-gay violence and harassment, and went beyond the law in helping individuals to understand le***an, gay, bisexual and transgender people on a human level.”

In 2011, under President Obama, the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was repealed, allowing g**s and le***ans to serve openly in the military for the first time in history. Kutteles had one of the pens the president used to sign the repeal framed on her wall. Throughout her long battle for justice, Kutteles, who passed away in 2016 at the age of 67, said that her son was always her inspiration: “I hear him now, over and over, telling me, ‘Suck it up, Mom, and drive on,’ [his basic training motto.] Everything I’m doing is for him: Suck it up and drive on.”

The hard-won progress that Patricia Kutteles and countless other advocates fought for after her son Barry Winchell's murder now faces significant threats under Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, who declared "No more dudes in dresses" last month and ordered the renaming of the USNS Harvey Milk -- a ship honoring the Navy veteran who was one of the first openly gay elected officials in the U.S. -- at the beginning of June's Pride Month. These actions, along with Hegseth's characterization of LGBTQ+ inclusion as a "Marxist agenda" undermining military effectiveness, echo the same harmful stereotypes that created the hostile environment for Winchell's murder.

As today's military under Hegseth and Trump appears poised to reverse hard-won protections for LGBTQ+ service members, we must remember these are not merely abstract policy debates but decisions directly impacting the safety and lives of those volunteering to serve their country. Barry Winchell's tragic death stands as a sobering reminder that when institutions endorse discrimination, even tacitly, they can embolden the worst impulses of bigotry and violence, with costs sometimes measured in human lives.

Barry Winchell's story was told in the Emmy-nominated film "Soldier's Girl," recommended for adult viewers, at https://amzn.to/3T97hP5

For books for children, teens, and their parents that foster acceptance and understanding of LGBTQ people, visit our blog post, "True Colors: Mighty Girl Books for Pride Month," at https://www.amightygirl.com/blog?p=12258

For books about Mighty Girls who stand together for justice and acceptance of all people, check out our blog post "60 Mighty Girl Books About Standing Up for Others” at https://www.amightygirl.com/blog?p=13481

For books for children and teens about the importance of standing up for truth, decency, and justice, even in dark times, visit our blog post, "Dissent Is Patriotic: 50 Books About Women Who Fought for Change," at https://www.amightygirl.com/blog?p=14364

Safety. The bunker is a place for safety. In the military, they protect us from falling bombs, artillery, and a variety ...
06/19/2025

Safety.

The bunker is a place for safety. In the military, they protect us from falling bombs, artillery, and a variety of other attacks. You can run inside one, make sure the door is closed and ride out whatever storms happen around you.

In the civilian world, bunkers are associated with more with survivalism and they offer a sense of control. The world can be uncontrollable, but there is control inside a bunker - it is a space you create so that you can control who has access to you, who has access to what you have. You can build it out of reinforced concrete, steel, lead lining…you can protect yourself from a mumber of threats. You do this for safety, you do this to make sure you’ll be safe. You can absolutely control your sense of safety.

But absolute control comes with a price - isolation. There is a concern that too much time inside a bunker will lead to reduced air supply, and you could die. Too much time inside a bunker is known to cause psychological declines involving depression, anxiety, and personality disturbances. The world is unsafe - build a bunker and exist away from the world. Stay safe - but stay alone. But life all alone inside a bunker isn’t a life that is being lived - it is a life existing within a state of purgatory that we create and stay suspended in while the world goes on outside.

“The Bunker Fallacy” tells us that a focus on bunkers will distract us from more comprehensive solutions for resilience and sustainability, and encourages people to instead integrate survival measures into daily life. This approach forces us to accept risk and vulnerability while also accepting community and mutual support. People are wild cards - they can be unreliable, they can let you down, they are unpredictable. But people can also build you up, they can provide skills and support that you can’t give yourself, and people make up teams - teams get the really big jobs done together. You can’t do it all alone.

I’ve spent some time in bunkers over the past week, everyone in the Middle East has lately. In the immediate moment, it’s about safety - I do have to concern myself with missile strikes now, and the bunker can keep me alive. I duck inside a physical bunker when I need to, but I come right out again when the physical threat is over. I don’t get comfortable in a bunker, I don’t want to be there - it is an immediate means to an end with a desire to exit as soon as I can. It’s a short-term necessity - not a long-term lifestyle.

I’ve been thinking about the psychological bunkers we create and live in inside our minds. A repeated sense of being wounded and threatened can lead a person to close themselves off to others out of a need for self-protection. And that can work for a while; if you close yourself off to others, you do reduce the risk that people will hurt you. But does your self-protection end up hurting you? The mental bunkers we create, do they become prisons? When we close ourselves off to people, we protect ourselves from dishonesty, betrayal and disappointment - but we also close ourselves off to love, friendship and companionship. Our safety will soon give way to loneliness.

What if we instead choose to believe we’ll be okay? What if we evaluate risk and make our choices with the idea that there needs to be acceptable risk? “I can open myself to the possibility of love knowing there is a risk of disappointment but I know I’ll be okay even if my feelings get hurt.” You can say the same about a new job, changing majors in college, reuniting with former friends, etc. We can take chances on good outcomes with the understanding that we are resilient enough to bounce back if we don’t get the good outcomes that we want.

Duck inside your bunker in the immediate crisis and stay safe. If you’ve gotten hurt, repair yourself inside the bunker just enough so that you can fully heal outside the bunker. When the crisis is over, come out. You’ve got to come out of the bunker and come together with the people around you and move forward together. If you’re healing from hurt, do what you must do alone, but let someone in to help you and rebuild your trust in others again. The isolation, the aloneness, the missed experiences and connections - it’s no way to live.

(Picture is the actual bunker I go to when the sirens go off. It’s just for emergencies - no other reason.)

Deployment certainly throws a wrench in some things, but I’m still going to try to touch base with clients back home one...
06/09/2025

Deployment certainly throws a wrench in some things, but I’m still going to try to touch base with clients back home one way or another. I remind myself - this isn’t my first rodeo, I did it 2-3 years ago and I made this balance work back then. With some good planning and creativity, I’ll do my best to do it again now. How did I learn to think out of the box and come up with ideas, fallback plans, workarounds…the Army taught me. I’m just being who the Army taught me to be. 🙂

I really like this sentiment. There are times when people are meant to exit our lives - our personal lives, our professi...
06/03/2025

I really like this sentiment.

There are times when people are meant to exit our lives - our personal lives, our professional lives, etc. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing though, it can just be that their piece of your story is complete. You’re meant to go so much further, and so are they - you’re just not meant to do it together anymore.

I think this is the kindest way to look at friendships that naturally come to a close, the employee who gives their notice and the relationships that we’ve evolved from. Let them step out of your story and begin a new one of their own, and enjoy the opportunity it presents. A purposeful closure often opens up to the beginning of a new story that matches where you are in the present day and where you are headed in the future.

This year’s Memorial Day post..T walls are precast concrete panels that we use for all kinds of things - protection from...
05/26/2025

This year’s Memorial Day post..

T walls are precast concrete panels that we use for all kinds of things - protection from indirect fire, preventing floods, directing traffic, privacy and security, etc. Based on height, they can be called Jersey barriers, Bremer walls, Alaska barriers and so on.

Early on in GWOT, it became a thing for units to paint a wall as an end-of-tour way of marking their time there. “we were here” “this was us” “we did this” We matter. What we did and who we were mattered here.

Yesterday I had some down time so I slowed down and really looked at some of the panels. I thought about who the artists might have been, who the units were. And then I thought - how many soldiers painted these panels while they were thinking about who they lost? How many people they had left vs how many they started with? Which brings me to my job, I hear the things people don’t want anyone else to hear. I’ve heard people talk about things from their last deployments, I also hear about more recent things that have just happened.

It is 2025, we can breathe a bit now, I have the freedom to walk to the DFAC in an old sweatshirt instead of the whole uniform, IOTV and so on. I have that freedom because a lot of soldiers before me worked hard to make this area safe and some of them died in the process. I can complain about the heat and walk around casually here because someone came here before me and made it safe for me.

But who knows, something might happen at any moment and I might end up being one of those soldiers who makes it safe again for someone else 10, 20 years in the future. There’s no telling what will happen on any given day in the Middle East. It’s such a volatile region with high emotions, long-held resentments - and a lot of weapons. On any given day, anything can happen.

I am surrounded by by 20+ years of soldiers who remind me of what this area was, what it is now, and what it could be again. 20+ years of soldiers whose work still matters, whose lives still matter. Every wall that has paint on it - a piece of them is still here. Even the soldiers who left this earth years ago - a piece of them is still here. It’s a thing to be in awe of and to also be comforted by every time I go anywhere.

Memorials. The T walls are a sort of memorial to them, aren’t they? It’s a fitting thought for today.

🇺🇸 🇰🇼 🇮🇶 🇸🇾 🇯🇴 🇸🇦 🇦🇫 🇶🇦 🇧🇭

(Btw, if you were here and your unit painted a wall and you want a picture of it now, tell me where you think it is and I’ll find it and send a picture.)

We all know someone who needs to hear this! And maybe, just maybe - that someone is *ourselves* sometimes. I’ll be hones...
05/18/2025

We all know someone who needs to hear this! And maybe, just maybe - that someone is *ourselves* sometimes.

I’ll be honest, I have mixed feelings about this statement. I dated someone a few years back who always engaged in the silent treatment instead of using conflict resolution skills - it drove up my anxiety and triggered a fear of abandonment in me. My resulting anxiety and fear of abandonment resulted in extreme people-pleasing (as in, going overboard to make him happy so he wouldn’t give me the silent treatment again). It was an extremely unhealthy dynamic, and I’m glad that time in my life is long since over. So I know firsthand how much damage we can do to others when we give them the silent treatment, and I know it can be a pretty cruel thing to do.

But what if we need time away from someone, the conflict is so substantial that time apart without any contact is what’s needed? I think we have to be honest about what we’re doing and why in those situations, and there’s more than one way to be honest:

1. Talk if you can. A conversation where both people agree to leave each other alone for a certain time period or even indefinitely is going to be the ideal way to do it. It’s assertive, respectful, and mature. Say what led to your need for silence right now, when you think you’ll be ready to talk about the situation, and clearly state any relevant boundaries you have. Stick with the facts - no insults or passive-aggression.

2. Write a letter or email. The reality is that for a number of reasons, mature conversations backfire. The other person might be manipulative in response, the person who needs a break might feel weakened and give in to pressure - and sometimes with domestic violence, a conversation isn’t physically safe. When you know it’ll backfire, avoid the conversation and write a letter or message that explains the need for a break and what your boundaries are.

I would reserve a complete disappearance (ie “ghosting”) when there are actual safety concerns, and not just physical - emotional too. But these situations aren’t as common as are the times when we’re just angry with one another. We help ourselves and each other heal with mature explanations and boundaries, and this keeps the door open for healthy conflict resolution and reconciliation.

It’s that time again! The next two weeks will be unpredictable for me as I get my affairs in order and get to where I’m ...
04/30/2025

It’s that time again! The next two weeks will be unpredictable for me as I get my affairs in order and get to where I’m going. If you need help from anyone at HMC, please contact Jess and Stacy:

Jessica Mess, practice manager
(267) 528-9937
Stacy Johnson, admin assistant
(267) 528-6997

Both are able to schedule and assist with portal and billing concerns. You can also email our general appointments email at:

appointments@hopeandmeaning.com

I’m still available, but I might be slow to respond while I’m in transit. My contact info is the same:

bonnieh@hopeandmeaning.com
(267) 528-9061

I can’t do what I do without the understanding of all our clients and also the best administrative support staff on earth. Thanks so much 😊

If you ever wondered if a woman can handle combat…yes we can ;)
04/28/2025

If you ever wondered if a woman can handle combat…yes we can ;)

The gunner shouted, “Shut the door,” as the deadly hail of incoming machine-gun fire started raking and pinging off the Humvee. They were trapped… caught in an insurgent enemy ambush. As the .50 caliber machine gunner started pouring suppressive fire back at the enemy, Staff Sergeant Santos turned to combat medic Specialist Brown and yelled, “Let’s go, Doc.”

Monica Brown, a girl from a small town, beat the odds by becoming a US Army paratrooper and a Silver Star recipient. The first women to actually receive the Silver Star were four World War II Army nurses.

Early on, Monica became interested in radiology through an aunt who was an X-ray technician. She found it engrossing enough to consider it as a future career. Later, an Army recruiter informed her that she could receive radiology training in the military, and they would pay for it.

A few months later, she disappointingly learned that the Army radiology program was canceled, so she enlisted in the Army as a Healthcare Specialist, which is a fancy way to say she was a combat medic.

During Basic and Advanced Individual Training, Monica met her mentor, a drill sergeant whose impact would help define who she would become in the Army. “She was high-speed and airborne-qualified.”

On February 7, 2007, Pfc. Brown deployed to Afghanistan to Forward Operating Base Salerno.

At first, Monica was kept working strictly on the base. “The first actual patient I worked on was an Afghani man who had a gunshot to his leg. My reaction was, ‘My gosh, this is a real person, and these are real injuries; this isn’t training anymore.’ That’s when the switch flipped, and I think everything changed from training to me really liking my job,” said Monica.

In March 2007, a small outpost occupied by the 73rd Cavalry requested a female medic, and Monica was chosen. The outpost was little more than a cluster of tents with no plumbing or running water. The perimeter was surrounded and protected by dirt-filled walls.

Monica’s aid station was a tiny 8-by-5-foot area barely big enough to fit a stretcher. “I loved it and the challenge,” she said. She went on some resupply and humanitarian missions with Delta Troop.

To respect Afghani traditions, any medical treatment of an Afghan woman had to be conducted by a woman. Women throughout the country were also excluded from basic medical treatment facilities by the Taliban unless the facility exclusively treated women.

The Outpost Charlie Troop was running combat patrol, and in April, their other medic went on leave. US Military regulations stipulated that women weren’t supposed to be assigned to any front-line units. Still, Monica was the only medic available, and she received orders to accompany the patrol.

When Monica arrived, Charlie Troop received orders to go on a search-and-capture mission. They would be out in enemy territory for five nights. The patrol consisted of four heavily armored Humvees and one Afghan National Army pickup truck.

Having spent the night just outside the small village of Jani Khel, Charlie Troop was informed on the morning of April 25, 2007, that two Taliban insurgents lived in the town. They spent the day searching the small village and found nothing; the enemy had already fled the area.

By late afternoon, they started moving out of the village, one by one, turning off the road into a dry riverbed adjacent to it. Monica rode in the Humvee with the platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Jose Santos. She never heard the explosion, but the .50 caliber gunner on her Humvee yelled, “Two ones hit. I see smoke and a tire rolling through the field.”

The rear Humvee, with five soldiers inside, had driven over an improvised explosive device (IED) that utilized a pressure plate for detonation. Looking back, they saw the Humvee engulfed in a fireball, and its fuel tank and reserve fuel cans ignited. Monica instinctively grabbed her medical bag and her weapon and opened the door.

The .50 caliber gunner yelled down, “Shut the door,” as incoming machine-gun fire started hitting the Humvee. They were trapped in a classic ambush. The .50 caliber gunner immediately turned around and began laying a heavy stream of suppressive fire toward the enemy. Staff Sgt. Santos turned to Monica and shouted, “Let’s go, Doc.”

With Staff Sgt. Santos a couple of steps ahead of her, they ran approximately three hundred yards through the heavy silt blanketing the dry river bed. Enemy machine-gun and rifle fire chased them as they sprinted to their objective, the burning Humvee.

Four of the injured had been thrown from the vehicle; the fifth, Specialist Larry Spray, was caught inside by his boot and was on fire. Sergeant Zachary Tellier, without hesitation, entered the burning truck and managed to pull him out.

Out of breath and with her heart racing from the riverbed sprint, Monica observed that all five of the soldiers were injured. Some appeared to be going into shock, stumbling, and disoriented, while others suffered from burns and profuse bleeding caused by numerous cuts and abrasions.

Specialists Stanson Smith and Larry Spray were in critical condition. Spray had severe burns, and Smith had a severe laceration on his forehead, blinding him in a mask of his own blood.

Monica and one of the lesser injured soldiers grabbed Smith by his body armor and dragged him into the safety of a ditch fifteen yards away. Sergeant Tellier quickly assisted Spray to the ditch.

“I did not really think about anything except for getting the guys to a safer location and getting them taken care of,” Monica recalled. The other vehicles from the convoy turned around to form a crescent formation and began to return heavy fire at numerous enemy positions.

The enemy spotted the hapless soldiers hunkering down in the ditch and started dropping mortar rounds towards them. Monica threw her body over Smith, shielding him, and yelled to another soldier to cover up the other casualty as more than a dozen rounds landed around them, kicking dirt and debris into the air, adding to the chaos.

Just then if the situation couldn’t get any worse, the ammunition cache inside the burning Humvee started to cook off and explode: 60mm mortars, 40mm gr***de rounds, and rifle ammunition going off in all directions. Again, Monica threw herself over the wounded to shield them with her body.

Lieutenant Robbins, the platoon leader, moved his Humvee near the injured and was amazed that Monica had survived. Robbins later stated, “I was surprised I didn’t get killed in those exposed few minutes I was out there and Pfc. Brown had been out there for at least ten to fifteen minutes or longer.

“There was small arms fire coming in from two different machine-gun positions, mortars falling, a burning Humvee with sixteen mortar rounds in it, and chunks of aluminum the size of softballs flying all around. It was about as hairy as it gets.”

Staff Sgt. Santos drove the Afghan pickup truck over to get the wounded; he would later recall that bullets were impacting within inches of Pfc. Brown, but she steadfastly remained focused on treating the casualties. Lieutenant Robbins also commented on her calm demeanor under fire, “Pfc. Brown was focused on her patients the whole time. She did her job perfectly.”

Monica and Staff Sgt. Santos pulled Smith onto the truck while Larry Spray crouched behind the back window. Once the truck started moving, Monica dived over the front seat onto a bench in the back. She continued to work by putting pressure on the heavily bleeding laceration on Smith’s head. She held Spray’s hand, giving him comfort, as his charred body started to shake. She continued asking Spray questions to prevent him from going into shock.

Staff Sgt. Santos drove across the river and stopped behind one of the Humvees; Monica set up her Casualty Collection Point there. Smith was bleeding heavily and slipping in and out of consciousness, and Spray had extensive burns.

Monica bandaged Smith, then started IVs on both soldiers. She expertly covered Spray’s burns with gauze and put him in a hypothermia bag. She soon had them stabilized and prepped for medevac, but it was another forty-five minutes before the helicopters arrived.

Monica recalled, “When the medevac helicopter was taking off, and everything was quiet, my ears were still ringing. I couldn’t hear anything. I was walking through the field back to the Humvees, through shin-high green grass, blowing because the bird was taking off. I remember thinking, ‘Did that just really happen? Did I do everything right?’ When I got back to the trucks the guys were all hugging me and thanking me.”

Staff Sergeant Aaron Best, who served as Lieutenant Robbin’s .50 caliber gunner that day, said, “I’ve seen a lot of grown men who didn’t have the courage and weren’t able to handle themselves under fire like Monica did. She never missed a beat.”

Two days later, her superiors abruptly pulled Monica from the field. She had attracted too much attention. Specialists Smith and Spray were flown back to the US and eventually recovered from their wounds.

On March 21st, 2008, the US Army flew Monica’s brother Justin to Bagram Airbase to stand beside her as Vice President Dick Cheney presented nineteen-year-old Combat Medic, Army Specialist Monica Lin Brown the Silver Star.

The military said Monica Brown’s “bravery, unselfish actions and medical aid rendered under fire saved the lives of her comrades and represents the finest traditions of heroism in combat.”

Monica said she never expected to be in a situation like that and credits her training and instructors for her actions that day. She added, “I realized that everything I had done during the attack was just from repetitive memory.”

To read the harrowing accounts of over twenty more brave women war heroes please check out the just released book, "Women in War" by David A. Yuzuk available as a Paperback, Audiobook and ebook on Amazon, Barnes and Nobles and most major book sites.

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