My Story
_ My name is Olga. I am a 42 year old mother, wife, and grandmother. I joined the United States Air Force in Jun, 1988. I was so happy and ready to join the good guys, to be part of the team that keeps others safe. Little did I know that the guys that I needed to fight were the ones that stood right beside me.
The following story is triggering and contains graphic description.
In August of 1990 my son had just turned a year old and I was being sent to the Gulf War. The funny thing was that several guys in my office volunteered to go in my place, but he declined their offers. While serving in the Gulf War I was raped. I remember every detail as if it were yesterday. I was going to take a shower in the women-only shower so I stepped out of my uniform and grabbed my towel and toiletries. I remember facing the shower and starting to shampoo my hair, but I felt someone standing behind me, so I thought it was another girl looking for an open shower stall. When I felt that the person was still there, I thought she might have wanted to ask me for some toiletries. Before I could rinse my face or turn around, I felt the full force of an arm around my neck and a naked body pressing against me. His arms were so strong, and he kept squeezing my throat and abusing me. All I could think was, “God, please let me see my son again.” I really don't remember how long it lasted. All I remember is being in the corner of the shower scared to look back. Once I got up, I ran to put my uniform while I was still soaked from the shower. I ran as fast as I could to my tent, and by the time I got there, I was hysterically crying and incoherent. I finally spoke to the highest ranking person in my tent and we went to the security police and wrote a statement. After that nothing happened; not a trip to the doctor or anything else. I was told to return to my tent and report to work the next day.
The next six months where hell knowing that my rapist knew who I was but I did not know his identity. He could be standing next to me, or talking to me: all I could think was please take me out of here. When I finally left, I went to the security police to ask for a copy of my report and the answer that I got was, “what report?” When I got back, the rumor was that I deserved what happened to me because I was naked in the shower. Let’s just guess who started that one.
The following story is triggering and contains graphic description.
In August of 1990 my son had just turned a year old and I was being sent to the Gulf War. The funny thing was that several guys in my office volunteered to go in my place, but he declined their offers. While serving in the Gulf War I was raped. I remember every detail as if it were yesterday. I was going to take a shower in the women-only shower so I stepped out of my uniform and grabbed my towel and toiletries. I remember facing the shower and starting to shampoo my hair, but I felt someone standing behind me, so I thought it was another girl looking for an open shower stall. When I felt that the person was still there, I thought she might have wanted to ask me for some toiletries. Before I could rinse my face or turn around, I felt the full force of an arm around my neck and a naked body pressing against me. His arms were so strong, and he kept squeezing my throat and abusing me. All I could think was, “God, please let me see my son again.” I really don't remember how long it lasted. All I remember is being in the corner of the shower scared to look back. Once I got up, I ran to put my uniform while I was still soaked from the shower. I ran as fast as I could to my tent, and by the time I got there, I was hysterically crying and incoherent. I finally spoke to the highest ranking person in my tent and we went to the security police and wrote a statement. After that nothing happened; not a trip to the doctor or anything else. I was told to return to my tent and report to work the next day.
The next six months where hell knowing that my rapist knew who I was but I did not know his identity. He could be standing next to me, or talking to me: all I could think was please take me out of here. When I finally left, I went to the security police to ask for a copy of my report and the answer that I got was, “what report?” When I got back, the rumor was that I deserved what happened to me because I was naked in the shower. Let’s just guess who started that one.
It took me a long time to speak out, but I came to a time in my life when I felt as though I could do something to help others and do everything I could to stop rape, abuse, harassment, and assault in the military. I came up with the idea to create a physically tangible representation of the atrocities occurring in our armed forces, and this is the origin of the Black Rose Campaign. I invite servicemen and women as well as veterans who have suffered sexual assault or harassment to request a rose in their honor, anonymously or not. My goal each year is to take these roses to Washington, D.C. and lay them out for everyone to see. My purpose with this campaign is to make sure as many people as possible know what is happening so that we can all pave the way for positive changes in policy and practice that would protect our service members from the rapists in the ranks.
I also try to connect survivors who contact me with the resources they need to get the support they need and the benefits they deserve. I would be happy to answer any questions or to be there for anyone that needs to talk.
I also try to connect survivors who contact me with the resources they need to get the support they need and the benefits they deserve. I would be happy to answer any questions or to be there for anyone that needs to talk.