The Meaning of Memorial Day

Images courtesy: Liz Harman

On May 27, 2010, then-U.S. Army Maj. Jaimie Leonard wrote a stirring piece about the meaning of Memorial Day for her hometown newspaper.

"It was not until I actually went to war in Iraq and when fellow soldiers in my unit failed to make it back from patrol did I truly internalize the distinction," the soldier wrote in The Warwick Advertiser. "It wasn't until then that I truly valued how these brave men and women who died serving our country deserved their own day memorializing their sacrifice."

Long before she became an Army officer, Jaimie, who grew up in southeastern New York state, was carrying herself like a future leader.

"Jaimie was always determined and always wanted to do well in everything she did," her oldest of four sisters, Liz Harman, told me.

When Jaimie's dreams of attending the U.S. Military Academy at West Point were initially dashed, she dedicated every subsequent day to proving she belonged.

"She had that drive and determination to never, ever quit," Liz said. "She got into West Point that second year."

After being commissioned as an intelligence officer in 1997, Jaimie deployed to Bosnia in 1999, along with a subsequent stint in Korea and two in Germany. She served in Iraq from 2004 to 2005 and then in Afghanistan from 2010 to 2011.

"When she was deployed, we would send her food, but it turns out she'd work through all the meal times," Jaimie's oldest sister said. "She wanted to make sure she had everything together to support those around her."

Jaimie was a smart, hard-nosed soldier, but as soon as she came home from work, it was time to relax.

"She was either in a military uniform or a dress," Liz said with a chuckle. "There was no in between for her."

Time after time, Jaimie received high praise for her relentless efforts around the globe. The humble soldier, however, would never trumpet her accomplishments.

"It wasn't about the medals," Liz said. "She was proud of them, but they didn't define her."

Liz became understandably emotional when our discussion turned to Jaimie's 2013 deployment to Afghanistan, which started with a family tragedy. The day after Jaimie arrived on base, her and Liz's father died.

"She wanted to come home," Liz, 39, said. "But she wanted to get her troops together ... she felt like she had a responsibility."

For the next five months, Jaimie would email Liz to share her favorite memories of their dad. The sisters communicated more than during previous deployments, including an exchange about a care package Liz was preparing for Jaimie in early June.

"It was not only things for herself, but for the people around her," Liz said.

Then, on June 8, Liz, who was traveling with her husband and children, received a shocking phone call from one of her sisters. Jaimie, she learned, had been killed in Afghanistan.

"I didn't believe it," Liz said. "I was just screaming ... "

Liz said that Jaimie, 39, was shot and killed by a disgruntled Afghan National Army soldier. According to the Pentagon, Lt. Col. Todd Clark, 40, was also killed in the tragic incident.

Liz is not bitter toward the Afghan people for the apparent "insider" attack.

"They said at the service in Afghanistan at the (Forward Operating Base) for them, Afghan generals were crying," she said.

There have been plenty of tears shed by Liz and her four siblings, and many well-deserved honors for Jaimie, who was posthumously promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.

"Everybody came together," Liz Harman said.

While closing her unforgettable Memorial Day 2010 column in The Warwick Advertiser, future Lt. Col. Jaimie Leonard called upon Americans to "consider your duties as citizens."

"Remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their country in war, but also honor those others who sacrifice in other ways to make this country great — law enforcement, firefighters, teachers, volunteers, etc.," she wrote. "Please honor them in deed and not just giving thanks, parades, or planting flowers or flags on graves.

"Take measure of what have you done for your country and ask yourself if you could do more."

COPYRIGHT 2014 CREATORS.COM

Tom Sileo is a nationally syndicated columnist and co-author of BROTHERS FOREVER: The Enduring Bond Between a Marine and a Navy SEAL that Transcended Their Ultimate Sacrifice. Written with Col. Tom Manion (Ret.) and published by Da Capo Press, BROTHERS FOREVER will be released on May 13. To find out more about Tom Sileo, or to read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators website.

Go Get 'Em

Images courtesy: Marcie Robertson

Moments after being shot while charging toward the enemy, Sgt. 1st Class Forrest Robertson had a message for his U.S. Army teammates.

"Go get 'em, boys," Sgt. 1st Class Robertson uttered just before his final breath.

It was Nov. 3, 2013, and in about three weeks, Forrest, 35, was supposed to return from his fifth combat deployment to his wife and three daughters. Instead, Marcie Robertson heard her doorbell ring shortly after the fierce battle in Pul-i-Alam, Afghanistan, was over.

"I couldn't speak," the soldier's wife said about the moment she knew her husband had been killed. "I couldn't form words."

Though under vastly different circumstances, the last time Marcie's ability to speak failed her was in high school, when she and Forrest, who had grown up together in Kansas, first realized how attracted they were to one another.

"I could tell by the way he looked at me that he loved me," Marcie said.

Just before finishing high school in 1996, Forrest joined the Army. Even though it was peacetime, a teenage Marcie, who was terrified by the idea of becoming a military wife, told Forrest it was time to break up.

"I didn't think I could handle it," she said.

By 2000, just as Forrest was returning from a deployment to Bosnia, the couple got back together and quickly decided to get married.

"We were planning our wedding for October 2001," Marcie said. "(Then) September 11th happened, and he was hearing rumors that he could get deployed."

After speeding up their wedding in case Forrest had to leave, the couple was hastily thrust into the rigors of military life during wartime. With every family milestone, it seemed, there was a parallel to history.

"My daughter was born the day the war started in Iraq," Marcie said. "She was three weeks old when he left."

Forrest served two combat deployments in Iraq as his wife adjusted to being, in essence, a single mom while he was away. Whenever she became stressed by caring for the kids alone, however, Marcie would lean on her husband's strength.

"It always amazed me how good he was at being a dad," she said. "I think I adapted the same way he did."

Marcie vividly remembers a phone call from her husband's subsequent first deployment to Afghanistan. It came after the platoon sergeant led his men through a chaotic firefight.

"He said that all his guys did exactly what they were supposed to do," said Marcie, whose husband received a Bronze Star with Valor following the battle. "That's what I remember ... him being so proud of his guys."

Forrest left for Afghanistan a second time in February 2013. The soldier was promoted during the deployment, which shifted his job from the battlefield to sitting behind a desk. But by Nov. 1 — the day he called his wife for the last time — Forrest was once again leading a platoon in combat.

"He was so happy," Marcie, her voice cracking from emotion, said. "I'm so, so glad that I got to hear him that happy."

For months, Forrest's fellow soldiers have been describing their leader's final acts of courage — including "go get 'em boys" — to his grieving wife.

"You see movies, and you hear people talk about things like this, but he was a hero," Marcie said. "(The soldiers) all say they'll never forget what he did."

Almost 2,000 American flags lined the streets when Forrest's flag-draped casket arrived in frigid Wamego, Kan. At the soldier's funeral, hundreds of shivering mourners listened to the service on a loudspeaker outside the overflowing church.

"I just felt like I wasn't alone," Marcie said. "I know that he was loved ... the time he was with us wasn't wasted."

Twelve years after 9/11, Marcie Robertson, 34, is raising three girls who desperately miss their dad.

"I have to sit and cry with them ... that's my job," she said. "I just tell them that someday, we're going to be OK."

Every day, the last words spoken by Sgt. 1st Class Forrest Robertson inspire his brothers in arms. Perhaps, as his wife and daughters try to overcome an incomprehensible loss, they will hear a similar battle cry: "Go get 'em, girls."

COPYRIGHT 2014 CREATORS.COM

Tom Sileo is a nationally syndicated columnist and author of BROTHERS FOREVER: The Enduring Bond Between a Marine and a Navy SEAL that Transcended Their Ultimate Sacrifice. Written with Col. Tom Manion (Ret.) and published by Da Capo Press, BROTHERS FOREVER will be released in May. To find out more about Tom Sileo, or to read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators website.

63 Seconds

Images courtesy: U.S. Air Force

U.S. Air Force Maj. Duane Dively was returning from a mission over Afghanistan when the U-2 spy plane he was piloting malfunctioned. For the next 63 seconds, Maj. Dively did what he'd been doing for two decades.

He put his country first.

"We think he tried to bring the plane in," the pilot's mother, Donata Dively, told The Unknown Soldiers.

"He could have ejected, but that wasn't the way he was built," his father, Bill Dively, added.

Prior to the June 22, 2005, mission, Duane risked his life in almost every U.S. conflict since Desert Storm. Citing what he felt was an obligation to serve, Duane joined the Marine Corps shortly after 241 U.S. service members were killed in the 1983 terrorist attack on the U.S. Marine barracks in Beirut.

But ever since the Canton, N.Y., native's first time in an airplane, Duane's head was always tilted toward the heavens.

"He always wanted to fly," his mom said. "Duane had a determination ... he was very tenacious."

Duane later joined the Air Force to fulfill his lifelong dream. After earning his wings in 1990, the pilot flew wherever his country needed him.

"From Desert Storm to the Balkans to Somalia ... it seemed like he was always overseas," Bill said.

After registering a perfect score on his pilot tests, Duane began flying the U-2 reconnaissance aircraft, which had become a household name during the Cold War. For most of the next decade and particularly after 9/11, Duane's parents, who live in Hollidaysburg, Pa., rarely knew where their son was flying.

"He'd say 'you're not on the need to know list,'" Donata said with a gentle laugh.

Duane was usually collecting crucial intelligence over Afghanistan and Iraq during missions that he would often volunteer to fly.

"If other (pilots) had children, particularly around the holidays, Duane would volunteer for those three-month deployments so they could spend time together," Donata said.

In early 2005, with America suffering almost daily casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan, the happily married pilot could have retired. Duane, who was about to turn 43, decided to keep flying.

"They go into the service because they love what they're doing," Donata said of brave men and women like her son. "They have the dedication to the people of the United States, their country and God."

As the U-2 lost power over Southwest Asia, Duane did everything he could to save a plane he'd spent countless hours navigating through the clouds of war.

"It costs about $7 million to train a good pilot," Duane's father said, his voice cracking with emotion. "He made the most out of everything he did."

The memorial service honoring Duane, who was one of a select few to ever pilot the U-2, was held in a massive California hangar next to another spy plane he once flew.

"Whenever there was a trouble spot, Duane was there," an Air Force officer told the packed Beale Air Force Base audience.

While it's been more than seven years since Duane's final act of courage, the lives of his wife, parents and brother are forever changed.

"No birthday, holiday or any day having anything to do with that child is ever the same," Donata said.

When Bill plays golf, he always tilts his head upward toward the blue sky, where his oldest son helped define several chapters of American history.

"I think of him all the time," he said.

Duane is buried at Arlington National Cemetery, where he rests among brothers and sisters in arms who also fought to preserve freedom. But as America's post-9/11 conflicts fade from our national consciousness, the fallen hero's mother is worried.

"So many times it's only the immediate families that realize the sacrifice," Donata said. "And I just think we need other people to keep in mind the price that so many people are paying."

Maj. Duane Dively devoted nearly every second to keeping others safe. For that, along with the final 63 seconds of his extraordinary life, the hero pilot's parents have no doubt where their son's soul now flies.

"I think the Lord felt that Duane had used every talent the Lord had given him," Donata said. "It was time for his reward."

COPYRIGHT 2013 CREATORS.COM

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Daddy Fly

Images courtesy: Budrejko family

While recently visiting with his aunt, a little boy pointed to the sky as two helicopters flew over his family's Temecula, Calif., home.

"Daddy fly," the two-year-old child said.

The little boy is Andrew Budrejko. His father, Lt. Col. Thomas Budrejko, was one of seven Marines killed on Feb. 22 when two helicopters crashed during a training exercise near Yuma, Ariz.

"He is so young and we all want to make sure he doesn't forget Tom," the fallen Marine's sister, Navy Reserve LT Catherine Alexander, wrote in an email to The Unknown Soldiers. "Andrew was the most important thing in Tom's life and I want to make sure he always knows that."

During 15 years of distinguished service, Lt. Col. Budrejko served in Afghanistan, Kosovo, and three times in Iraq. The 37-year-old AH-1W Cobra attack helicopter pilot was preparing for another deployment to Afghanistan when he was tragically killed on the home front.

"(The) first thing I thought was that it had to be a mistake," his sister wrote. "Tom was one of the best Cobra pilots in the Marine Corps, as his fellow Marines have told us so many times, so how could this happen to him?"

At age 13, after winning a history competition in his hometown of Montville, Conn., and later participating in a national contest, the future pilot decided he wanted to make some history of his own.

"Mom, I'm going to be a Marine," young Tom said.

Budrejko attended the United States Naval Academy, which inspired his little sister to later come to Annapolis and follow in his footsteps.

"I looked up to Tom as long as I can remember and always (tried) to emulate him in everything I did," LT Alexander wrote.

Despite earning several medals for his accomplishments in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Kosovo, the decorated Marine rarely spoke about his heroism in combat.

"He spoke of the huge camel spiders and the dust storms that got caught up in their computers, but never spoke much about his missions," his sister explained.

Alexander breathed a sigh of relief whenever her brother came home from a dangerous combat mission.

"When he was gone on deployment, it was always in my mind that he might not make it home," she explained. "But I never worried about him while he was stateside."

Even as her brother's Memorial Service got underway at California's Camp Pendleton, the crushing loss still didn't feel quite real to the youngest of Tom's three siblings.

"He was so accomplished and in my eyes, invincible," Alexander said.

But as Marines spoke one-by-one about the selflessness of her brother during the decade and a half he devoted to our country, confusion and despair turned to acceptance and appreciation.

"I always knew how great he was, but to hear it from so many people meant so much to our family," she said. "This is where we learned about so many accomplishments that Tom had never bragged about to us."

While adjusting to life without her brother is painful, Alexander, as a member of the military herself, is also grieving for the other six families to lose a loved one in the accident.

"We continue to pray for these families and for the squadron that lost so many good men," Alexander wrote.

Many of Budrejko's fellow Marines are now deployed overseas.

"My father stays in contact with the squadron and sends packages from time to time to support them on their deployment," she added.

The training accident, which is still under investigation, has devastated the Marine's wife, Dianna. Yet to honor her husband's memory, she is committed to carrying on his legacy through their only son.

"She is trying to make sure she stays strong for Andrew and that Andrew remembers his daddy and knows he was a hero," the fallen Marine's sister explained.

Lt. Col. Thomas Budrejko was a man of strong faith. Today, as his little boy points to heaven, it is clear that his daddy is still in flight, albeit a little higher above the clouds.

"He really did live his entire 37 years and didn't waste one minute," LT Catherine Alexander wrote. "He truly was and is the best person I know."

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