pain in my broken

body won’t ever match the

pain from my regret

September 2021

12"x12"x2"

Mixed Media Collage on Stretched Canvas in Floating Frame

By: Christina Helferich-Polosky

US Army Veteran (1998 -2009)

OIF – 2003 / OEF – 2008

$5000

I was initially inspired to create this piece for UnitingUS.org after I was given the poem In Arlington, written by Bob Martin, President of The American Rose Society from 2018-2021, For the Centennial of the Unknown Soldier 2021:

In Arlington white roses grow

And headstones mark them, row on row,

The honored dead; and in the sky

The Mourning Doves, in silence fly

To grieve the known who lie below.

We are the Dead, the ones you know

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Arlington.

While in the Tomb in marble glow:

Rests the Unknown, French soil below

In Honored Glory there he lie.

To not break faith with those that die

Our roses bloom as falling snow

In Arlington.

I meditated upon this piece for a while; because it touched a part of me that was beginning to awaken lately, especially with all the current events happening in Afghanistan—and I know veterans like me, who served during this time, all grieve a little differently—for things we lost—be it friends or family or our health or livelihoods. Our service may look different—be it WWI when the Unknown Soldier was entombed, to the wars of the Cold War Era that ran very hot many times, or the 43 days of Desert Storm whose airborne toxins still rage in the bodies of hundreds of thousands of our comrades—to today’s veterans, who, like me, have multiple combat deployments under their belt for a War on Terror that we may never quite come to terms with or understand. So, we paint, or sculpt, or draw or collage. Here, I’ve taken pieces of my actual uniform I wore during my 2008 deployment to Afghanistan with CJTF-101, as well as pieces of a unit T-shirt I wore there as well. My deployment was cut short because I got sick—really sick, exposed to an “unknown contaminant” that is still affecting my immune system to this day. I was medically retired a year later with permanent injuries and illnesses later attributed to burn pits I was exposed to during both my combat deployments. And I got mad—really mad. At the world, at my situation, and at my family at times for, what I thought, was not understanding what I was going through. And I regret that. I regret a lot. I regret my anger. I regret getting sick and cutting my career as a successful army officer short. I regret not seeing that I had a caregiver who did not really care for me. So, this piece of art—collaged together with the beautiful In Arlington poem, continues to speak to veterans of all generations—I just added my voice and my story to the pile. We are all worth hearing if you take the time. And we all end up blooming “as falling snow” somewhere, if not Arlington, then somewhere, hopefully not forgotten, and with honors. Because our stories are worth hearing, if you take the time. 

broken I stand now

like the poppy honored here

another war done?

October 2021

12"x12"2"

Mixed Media Collage on Stretched Canvas in Floating Frame

By: Christina Helferich-Polosky

US Army Veteran (1998 -2009)

OIF – 2003 / OEF – 2008

$5000

This is the second flower and spoken word piece I’ve created for UnitingUS.org in response to poems written about past wars—specifically, In Flanders Fields, written by Major John McCrae, MD a Canadian Army surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, in response, some say, to the death of his friend on May 2, 1915. 

 Others say it is simply one of the most iconic poems to come out of the First World War and was penned as a memorial to all who died in the war. 

It goes:

In Flanders fields the poppies grow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard, amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunsets glow;

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch, be yours to hold it high!

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

I was definitely inspired to combine the words of this poem with my own military experiences in this current collage—quite literally. 

 Maybe it’s the fact that I feel a connection recently to a war where people are forgetting about its people and its history because of all the time that has passed—like I feel my own voice and story and the voices and stories of other female Soldiers who served with me and deployed with me in 2003 (OIF) and 2008 (OEF) are now being counted by ‘decades ago’ instead of by just ‘years ago’ now. 

 I’m not sure—so I wanted to not only create something beautiful, but to also place myself into the piece itself by placing pieces of my own uniform that I deployed in, into this collage, so at least some part of me will last and be connected with the fields of poppies and the glow of sunsets past. 

I also collaged delicate fabric, typically reserved for a lingerie wardrobe, to signify my cis feminine side—to contrast the war torn environment in which I was serving—with how I am still trying to reconcile my own identity and how it fit with and into the uniform in which I served. It not only lends a beauty to the poppy petals, but it also adds a delicateness that I think all female Soldiers can relate to having to learn to bury and/or cover up about themselves when they don the very uniform they ultimately become so connected to. 

Because all veterans of all wars are connected—connected in service and connected by our voices that we must refuse to be silenced—so speak up and tell your story so we aren’t forgotten in the fields where the poppies grow.