I think this weekend it is important to remember the hard things. It is what we owe our fallen, and we owe the nation as it’s the most precious of treasures we spend in our profession. I’d encourage others here to write their remembrances of those who are not coming back, and what we lost in their deaths. I think by remembering them, we can assure ourselves and their memories that they did not pass unnoticed, and that we honor their sacrifice.
Our pastor, as I’m sure many pastors across the United States did this Sunday, started off his sermon with recognition of those whose service to our freedom cost them their lives. It got me thinking about how we memorialize our fallen and who we memorialize and why. When this war started, the first person I knew who was killed was a former IOBC instructor working at the Pentagon. Ironically it was at IOBC in 1996 where a visiting speaker on leadership stated with finality that as we progress through our careers we will see some of our friends and peers killed in service to the nation. Up until 2001, there were few serious injuries, and no deaths that I was aware of.
When 1-24th deployed to Mosul, I had finished my command time and was moving on to whatever it is that you do after command – mainly clear out for the next guy. I’d had a rifle company and a HHC, and I had thoroughly enjoyed my time as a CDR – up until that time it was the high point of my time as an officer. I had helped to build two very good teams, and as such to build the larger teams of the BN and BDE. I say helped because there were so many truly good officers and men, but it was time to move on and after almost 4 years at Fort Lewis the face of the organization was changing.
You don’t invest a large part of yourself in people and an organization though without having concerns. One of the last things I remember there was the BN CSM Tom Adams opening up one of the first deployment briefings explaining why getting your personal life in order was so important before deploying to war. There was silence and a few nervous laughs when the CSM reminded the men that some of them and their buddies would not return – they would die in combat.
From my follow on job, I kept tabs on the BN and most important to me, those I had special bonds with – the ones who I had sat on a range with and talked about shooting, knew where they were from, had shared coffee with, discussed some personal problem I might help them solve, or just BS’d with on the stairs to the company or in their platoon CP. I had friends and my old boss, who when they found time could shoot me an email with news.
It was not too long before the first deaths occurred. The first occurred when a suicide bomber infiltrated the Mosul Dining Facility. From my job in Fort Knox I tried to imagine how it happened, even with some details from friends I could not wrap my mind around it. I thought of the families that were left behind, the potential that was lost and I was empty about how to feel. Just too many lost at once.
Over the year there were more. Some came about in two way engagements to a cunning enemy, some the result of sudden and violent ambush where the enemy probably withdrew quickly, not even waiting to see what he’d accomplished. All were people I would not have expected to be killed, they were all at the top of their game, and all were professional soldiers.
Almost a year after 1-24th returned home, I found myself headed to Mosul, in the same exact area where my old BN had served. I was working with many of the same Iraqi soldiers the 1-24 had served with when it was just the ING. As I wrote my buddies from the BN they were able to provide me some insights to the area, and even joke about things such as the COP I was living in – my old XO told me to be on the look out for an ASIP radio that one of my old SFCs had lost there – but not to worry since he’d already been charged for it. In turn I would tell them how things were there going – they were much better then when the BN had been there – their efforts and sacrifices were paying off for Mosul.
Another thing was interesting; many of the IA officers and senior NCOs knew many of the same people I did. They had a high reputation of the BN and the 1/25th Lancer BDE. Their impression of the leadership shown by the men of 1-24th had provided them the means by which they persevered through the hardest times. Even now they could look back on the American examples and find the moral fiber to see it through.
This IA BN and our MiTT grew to be the family you hear about when men & women share combat together. We were risking our lives together, sharing our thoughts, hopes and expectations. We ate, drank tea, smoked cigarettes, patrolled, got shot at, mortared, etc. all together – just like any other unit. I lost some good Iraqi friends over that year, and of course I expect to lose more friends. While many of my friends and I myself will rotate back through somewhere in this long war, the people who live in these places must contest it day in and day out, they don’t rotate back. Their families are there, so that is what they must do. They are pragmatic and resigned to struggle. I memorialize those dead in that family as well – we all fight for the same thing.
It is important to grieve. It may be more important on a national level that we remember and acknowledge. It provides the perspective of ice water in regards to the cost of war and the knowledge that war is a gamble and the stakes are often higher then we concede. War is about people, and it entails sacrifice. We should not approach it lightly, and we should always be prepared so that sacrifice is minimized when the object of war dictates violence. For most of us here, war is our business. We will remember our friends and family who have fallen. It is probably not coincidence that our pastor followed his thoughts on Memorial Day with a sermon on the Mustard Seed. One man or woman can make a difference – Good bye to our friends, they did not die for naught.
