In Their Shoes

Image courtesy: Dequenne family

Capt. Jason Dequenne was sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner with his wife and son in Stafford, Va., when he got the stunning news. His friend and fellow Marine, Sgt. Jason Smith, had been killed in Afghanistan.

"I remember collapsing into the chair I was standing closest to," Capt. Dequenne told The Unknown Soldiers. "You're just in disbelief."

As excruciating pain sunk in, hundreds of memories raced through Dequenne's mind, with one in particular sticking out.

"I remember him asking me if EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) was the right thing to do," the Marine recounted. "I didn't plan the years after he joined EOD, but you can't help but second guess."

Dequenne knows his friend's death, which occurred half a world away on Nov. 19, 2010, wasn't the fault of anyone other than terrorists who plant bombs to murder our troops and innocent civilians.

"He went off and did something he was very proud of," Dequenne said. "He saved lives."

In the weeks that followed, Dequenne, the grandson of a heroic Marine who survived the historic World War II battle of Iwo Jima, scanned news outlets for stories about his fallen friend. In addition to reading about other troops making the ultimate sacrifice in Afghanistan, Dequenne also hoped to read more about Iraq, where he once served.

The results were disappointing.

"As an EOD guy, (Sgt. Smith) saved so many lives, and as I looked in the media, I saw almost nothing about it," Dequenne said. "The real tragedy is for (service members) to pass and to have nobody know who they are or what they did."

Like the day he started basic training 16 years ago, Dequenne, who became a Marine Corps officer in 2005 and was promoted to captain two years ago, resolved to hit the ground running and never leave a Marine behind.

Image courtesy: Pfc. Tabitha Bartley

Starting Oct. 15 at the Marine Corps' Philadelphia birthplace, Dequenne will run 236 miles to raise money for the Marine Corps-Law Enforcement Foundation, which gives higher education scholarships to children of the fallen.

"I can't think of a charity that better makes sure that these kids have the best chance to be successful," the Marine said. "They've (lost) a mom or dad, but at least they'll have an education."

While the 236 miles signify the upcoming 236th birthday of the Marine Corps, Dequenne wants to go an even greater distance. For each mile of his run, which will culminate Oct. 30 at the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, Dequenne will honor a different Marine or Navy Corpsman who made the ultimate sacrifice. He calls it "running a mile in their shoes."

"For some of these folks, it's been years since someone outside of their local communities where they grew up showed interest," he said. "What I hope to do is let the families of these fallen Marines and Corpsmen know that their lost loved one's sacrifice hasn't been forgotten."

While training for the long run has been exceptionally intense, filling most of the Marine's personal time, the hardest part may have been asking for a father's permission to honor his daughter. Dequenne described his phone call with Michael McClung, a retired Marine who lost his 34-year-old daughter, Maj. Megan McClung, in Iraq on Dec. 6, 2006.

Image courtesy: McClung family

"It's like when you're nervous, as a teenager, about asking a girl to dance," Dequenne said, adding that Megan's dad was kind and supportive. "Like any good father, he's very protective of her."

Major McClung's enduring mantra — "be bold, be brief, be gone" — has inspired thousands around the world, including this writer. What moves me equally is the service and dedication of Capt. Dequenne, who is ensuring that his fallen brothers and sisters in arms are always remembered.

"I would say it has probably been the most enriching experience of my entire life," the 38-year-old Marine said.

Early in his 236-mile run, Capt. Jason Dequenne will spend a mile in the shoes of Sgt. Jason Smith. He'll remember the good times, as well as Thanksgiving, when he learned of his 28-year-old friend's passing. But first and foremost, he'll remember one enduring truth about a warrior and his legacy.

"Once a Marine, always a Marine," he said.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

Image courtesy: Smith family

Note: You can learn more about Capt. Jason Dequenne's 236-mile run, the kind individuals making his journey possible, and the Marines and Navy Corpsmen he's honoring by visiting the Freedom Through Sacrifice website.

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

Images courtesy: Kristi Pearson

Christmas will never be the same for Kristi Pearson. Instead of a day to rejoice and relax, the holiday is a time to remember and reflect.

During the 2006 holiday season, Kristi, at the insistence of her husband, Pfc. Andrew H. Nelson, flew home to central Michigan from Germany, where the soldier trained for his first combat tour. As the 19-year-old warrior spent Christmas fighting during the height of the Iraq war, he wanted his bride surrounded by loved ones.

After a Christmas-morning video chat with her husband and a nice afternoon with her family, the 19-year-old Army wife suddenly panicked.

"I looked at my brother and said, 'Something doesn't feel right ... I feel like something has been taken away, and I don't know what it is,'" Kristi told The Unknown Soldiers.

In the early morning hours of Dec. 26, military messengers knocked on the door of her family's home in St. Johns, where Kristi and Andrew met in 4th grade. At almost the precise moment that a sense of dread began to consume her, Kristi's husband lost his life on the battlefield.

According to the Pentagon, Pfc. Nelson died when an improvised explosive device blew up near his Army vehicle. The Baghdad terrorist attack also killed Sgt. John Bubeck, 25, and Spc. Aaron Preston, 29.

"All of this was a giant blur to me," Kristi bravely recounted four and a half years later, while admitting that the tragedy still spurs panic attacks. "I don't know how to explain it."

Kristi grew up in a military family. But when Andrew decided to join the Army after high school, she couldn't help but worry.

"It's different when it's your husband instead of a parent," she explained, while emphasizing Andrew's love for the Armed Forces.

Kristi and Andrew married on Nov. 5, 2005, just before the soldier left for Germany. She joined him there in the spring, when they would finally be able to take a honeymoon to London and Paris.

"I am really thankful we were in Germany together," Kristi said. "Whenever I think of our marriage, I think of all the amazing things we got to see and all the places we got to go."

Andrew was a "jokester," but as a soldier, he was intensely prepared. Fellow troops told Kristi that her late husband brought an almost ridiculous variety of tools with him on every mission, earning him the affectionate nickname "Ranger Rick."

"He was a soldier who had everything," Kristi said. "Everyone always joked about that and gave him a tough time."

After Andrew's sudden death, communities throughout central Michigan and the U.S. military embraced the soldier's widow, his loving parents, Alan and Tami, and Andrew's loyal siblings, Jessica and Stephanie. For Kristi, picking up the jagged pieces of her shattered life after the worst Christmas imaginable would not be easy.

In the years to come, Kristi fell in love with another brave American soldier, Staff Sgt. Aaron Pearson.

"I want people to know that it's okay to move on and be happy again," she said.

Sadly, Kristi's grandfather passed away last fall. With the horror of Christmas 2006 still looming, Kristi again flew to Michigan with a husband in a war zone; this time it was Afghanistan.

"I was terrified to go home because I was so scared that if I went there while my husband was deployed, something would happen again," Kristi recalled.

Staff Sgt. Pearson was injured in Afghanistan a few months later, within days of Christmas 2010.

"He called me later and said 'I was medevaced, but I am fine,'" Kristi said, her voice trembling. "There were a lot of coincidences, and it was really scary."

With her second husband home, Kristi feels a fragile sense of ease. But with her first husband departed, a sense of loss still remains.

"It's always there, and I always think about it," she said.

On Dec. 25, Kristi Pearson will observe the five-year anniversary of Pfc. Andrew H. Nelson's tragic passing in Iraq while also reflecting on how fortunate Staff Sgt. Aaron Pearson was to survive Afghanistan. Indeed, Christmas will never be the same.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

'Radio Ga Ga'

Image courtesy: U.S. Army

In much of the western world, the days of children gathering around radios, as Roger Taylor wrote in the hit Queen song "Radio Ga Ga," are long gone. In an age of iPods, iPhones and SiriusXM, antenna radio's once strong signal is fading rapidly.

In Iraq, which has been in a perpetual state of war for three decades, many children still congregate around radios. It is in Baghdad, where Saddam Hussein's iron fist was left on the ash heap of history, that Staff Sgt. Brad Ruffin has served since December.

Staff Sgt. Ruffin, 42, served in the Marines before joining the Army. This soldier is ready for battle. Yet while deployed to the Iraqi capital, one of his most important jobs has been entertaining U.S. troops and Iraqi citizens on American Forces Network-Iraq's Freedom Radio.

With the number of American boots on the ground shrinking by the day in the midst of a continuing U.S. withdrawal, AFN-Iraq is shutting down. While speaking with the Unknown Soldiers from Baghdad just hours before its final broadcast, Ruffin reflected on the station's legacy.

"I guess for me, being on the radio during this deployment is the one thing I'm going to reflect on most," the soldier said. "Hopefully someone out there — maybe a little kid — it inspired them to become a musician or get into TV."

The first song ever played on Freedom Radio, as the Iraq war took shape in 2003, was Paul McCartney's "Freedom." The last was Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue" on Sept. 23, 2011.

Ruffin is proud of what the radio station meant to war-ravaged Iraq.

"The locals are appreciative," he said. "I've been talking about this to other troops who I come in contact with."

Still, the Plano, Texas, soldier desperately misses his wife and child. They are waiting near Charlotte, N.C., for his return, which is expected sometime this fall.

"Sometimes it's frustrating to be away from home," Ruffin admitted. "But it's great to be helping others out."

As soldiers with the Army's 206th Broadcast Operations Detachment spent months taking phone, email and Facebook song requests from around the world, Ruffin realized the continuing power of music, which connected troops and their families through the spirit of radio.

"People in the United States are asleep, and they wake up in the middle of the night to get a message to their son or daughter," he explained. "Or even a soldier that's returned home — they'll call or email to request a song."

Ruffin, who knows first-hand about the stress of deployments, was deeply moved by the burst of patriotic enthusiasm.

"That stuff blows me away," Ruffin said. "These people are obviously either staying up or waking up just to let us know how much they appreciate what we're doing here."

Hours before Freedom Radio's swan song in Iraq, requests were still pouring in on Facebook from the home of the brave.

"I'm sending a shout-out to my son stationed in Iraq, Spc. Justin Buderer," Lynn Buderer posted on Sept. 23. "Play 'Rocky Top' for him and all of the other Tennessee Volunteers deployed there!"

"I would like to send a shout-out to my husband, Sgt. Micheal Picon, serving there in Iraq," Christina Vara-Picon wrote the same day. "Be safe and hurry home. Godspeed!"

Iraqis were also emotional about the end of Freedom Radio in their country.

"Thank you AFN-Iraq for all the great songs and the beautiful memories," Hassan Timimy wrote. "We will miss you, and you will always be in our heart and soul for all the good times that we spent with you."

Freedom Radio has signed off in Iraq. But in Afghanistan, one of the world's most dangerous, impoverished countries, Afghan children and American troops still sit alone, watching a radio's light flicker during the abundant darkness of war. On Freedom Radio Afghanistan, the hard work of soldiers like Staff Sgt. Brad Ruffin endures.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

Brother in Arms

Image courtesy: Michael G. Reagan Portrait Foundation

Kathleen Shannon thinks about her big brother every day.

She vividly remembers when, as a young child, she fell off her bike while riding down a steep hill near the family home in Guttenberg, Iowa. Kathleen landed face-first on the pavement, breaking her glasses and cutting her face.

As she lay on the ground sobbing, her oldest brother, future U.S. Army Cpl. Stephen Shannon, took her in his arms.

"Stephen ran down the hill, picked me up, and walked me home," Kathleen, now 23, told the Unknown Soldiers. "He put me on the couch, got an ice pack and tended to me until our mom got home."

While Stephen was a mischievous child who sometimes teased his siblings, he would lay his life down for them in a heartbeat.

"That's one of those memories I have of him really caring for me," Kathleen continued. "He never wanted me to get hurt."

As a 21-year-old American soldier deployed in Iraq, Cpl. Shannon still didn't want to see anyone — other than the enemy — get hurt. He joined the Army Reserve in a time of war to protect the lives of others and find more purpose in his own.

"It was a combination of patriotism and wanting to better himself," his sister explained. "Joining the military ... you learn discipline, responsibility, hard work, and leadership."

The soldier was raised by Daniel and Joan Shannon, who Kathleen calls "the Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie of the Midwest." In addition to Stephen and Kathleen, they raised Molly, 20, and Patrick, 18, while adopting three children: Jack, 12, from South Korea; Mara, 6, from China; and Liam, 4, from Ethiopia. Like his parents, Stephen instantly connected with kids around the world.

"Children were drawn to him," Kathleen said. "He could easily make anyone laugh, even in serious situations."

Something else stood out to Kathleen as the siblings kept in close contact during Stephen's five months serving in Iraq with the Army's 396th Engineer Battalion. Half a world away from Iowa's golden fields, her brother was growing up.

"He realized that it wasn't all about him anymore," she explained. "He was with his comrades."

On Jan. 30, 2007, Cpl. Shannon drove over an improvised explosive device planted by terrorists in Ramadi, Iraq. According to Kathleen, shrapnel tore into her brother's leg, causing blood loss so massive that the military had to contact her parents.

Minutes later, Kathleen, who was on her way to an evening study group at Viterbo University in La Crosse, Wis., got a call from home.

"Kathleen, your brother has been in an explosion in Iraq," she vividly remembers her father saying.

Like the day she plunged from her bicycle as an innocent child, Kathleen was helpless.

"It felt like I had been punched in the gut," she said. "I fell to my knees and lost all strength in my legs."

As she desperately awaited more news, the devastated sister briefly fell asleep. It was in Kathleen's dreams that her big brother took her in his arms once again.

"He told me he was dead," she said. "In the dream I said, 'No, this can't be happening. This can't be real. I'll make a deal with the devil and bargain to keep you alive — I'll even trade places.'"

"No, it's not your time," Kathleen's brother replied in the dream. "You have to stay here — you have a long life to live."

When she woke up, Stephen was dead. Yet, even in the painful weeks, months, and years that followed, he still managed to pick up his little sister, again and again.

"You can be consumed by death and go to very dark places," she explained. "Your life can absolutely fall apart."

While her journey hasn't been easy, Kathleen, who is expecting her first child, believes that from above, Stephen is still guiding her out of life's steep valleys.

"It's made me a stronger human being, and I survived," she concluded. "I overcame death — his death."

Cpl. Stephen Shannon was willing to lay his life down for his siblings. As Americans who sleep under a blanket of freedom that this selfless soldier helped weave, we are his brothers and sisters too.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

We Will Remember Them

Image courtesy: Master Sgt. James Frank

To remember, you need to notice in the first place. With the exception of Sgt. Dakota Meyer, who was awarded the Medal of Honor by President Obama on September 15, the national media has almost completely ignored the sacrifices of our troops and their families since the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

With an e-mail inbox tragically filled with casualty notices from the Department of Defense, I decided to take a look at the websites of Fox News, CNN, and MSNBC early Tuesday morning in the hopes of finding more information about the war in Afghanistan. While scanning the top story sections of all three news websites, I found exactly one article about combat operations in Afghanistan -- a Fox News article about an attack warning alarm at the U.S. embassy in Kabul.

As American troops perform a great service to our nation, journalists at national TV networks and newspapers continue to do this country a great disservice by ignoring our true heroes. As the ten year anniversary of the invasion of Afghanistan draws closer, on the heels of August 2011, which was the conflict's deadliest month, there is no valid excuse for downplaying the sacrifices of these brave warriors and their brothers and sisters in arms.

Sgt. 1st Class Danial Adams, 35, Portland, Oregon
Sgt. Rodolfo Rodriguez Jr., 26, Pharr, Texas
Cpl. Michael Dutcher, 22, Asheville, North Carolina
Sgt. Mycal Prince, 28, Minco, Oklahoma
Staff Sgt. Michael Hosey, 27, Birmingham, Alabama
Sgt. Garrick Eppinger Jr., 25, Appleton, Wisconsin
Spc. Chazray Clark, 24, Ecorse, Michigan

From the crisp air of the pacific northwest to the majestic mountains of western North Carolina, the Adams, Rodriguez, Dutcher, Prince, Hosey, Eppinger, and Clark families are in deep mourning. As national media outlets look the other way, our eyes are fixed squarely on the loved ones of these fallen heroes. We have noticed your sacrifices.

In the days, weeks, and months ahead The Unknown Soldiers blog will redouble its efforts to spotlight those who make the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. With the press delinquent in its solemn duty to report on wars that directly impact our daily lives, the mission to tell the stories of remarkable families like the Matteonis continues with renewed vigor.

I spoke with Sgt. Dakota Meyer by phone on August 15, one month before he received the Medal of Honor at the White House. While our conversation was brief, I can say without a shred of doubt that this brave American patriot, who spent some of his life's best years serving in the Marines, would agree that there are thousands upon thousands of genuine heroes in the military who are never awarded medals.

Every single day, Sgt. Meyer wears two bracelets honoring the memory of the four fallen troops he dragged out of a chaotic eastern Afghanistan battle: 1st Lt. Michael Johnson, Staff Sgt. Aaron Kenefick, Gunnery Sgt. Edwin Johnson Jr., and Petty Officer 3rd Class James Layton. As he retreats to a farm in Kentucky, Meyer will always remember these men.

While our arms are not long enough to wear bracelets honoring each fallen hero of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, our hearts are certainly equipped to carry their legacies.

Freedom is not an accident. It is earned and preserved by men and women willing to fight. Today and every day, we will remember them.

Image courtesy: Sgt. James Shea


Note: After this post was written, news of former Afghan president Burhanuddin Rabbani's assassination was reported by national media outlets. As of 11:27 a.m. EDT, stories about the killing appeared in top story sections of the Fox News, CNN, and MSNBC websites.

Best Friends

Image courtesy: Janet McBarnes

Lindsy met her best friend on the beach when she was a teenager who didn't know the true meaning of love. His name was Tony.

The fun-loving pair was inseparable during their high school years in Michigan, until a major change in one of their lives forced a candid re-evaluation of their relationship.

"Looking back, it was more than a best friendship, but we didn't realize it until we graduated and he was going to go away," Lindsy told The Unknown Soldiers. "He was headed to boot camp."

Lindsy married her best friend, Sgt. Tony Matteoni, on July 19, 2008, with almost no money and absolutely no furniture. Their first apartment was filled with lawn chairs, boxes of Ramen noodles, and the air mattress they spent their entire marriage sleeping on.

"I couldn't do things like that with anyone but Tony," Lindsy said. "(It's) one of the fondest memories of my life: spending time with him and not being distracted."

When Sgt. Matteoni was ordered to report to North Carolina's Camp Lejeune, it was understood that his first combat deployment was almost certainly on the horizon.

"I was scared — naturally, I think," Lindsy recalled. "But the good thing about having been best friends for such a long time is that we knew it was going to work."

The day before Tony deployed to Afghanistan with 2nd Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment, Lindsy, incredibly, found out she was expecting the couple's first child.

While at war, the Marine received ultrasound pictures and a DVD containing an audio track of their child's heartbeat. When he called home, Tony wanted only to discuss Lindsy and the bundle of joy they were expecting.

"He implied that he wasn't having a very good time (in Afghanistan), but he didn't want to dwell on it," Lindsy said, while also emphasizing that even while experiencing war, her husband never lost his sense of humor. "He'd call and want to joke around."

During a sleepless night in Afghanistan, Tony knew that half a world away, Lindsy was finding out if their baby was a boy or girl. After some coaxing from his fellow Marines, Tony woke up his first sergeant and asked to phone home.

"He was able to call for 90 seconds," she said. "He said 'Linds, what's the verdict?'"

It was a girl. Tony was floored.

"He said he'd be a good dad and she'd be daddy's girl," Lindsy said. "We said our 'I love yous' and I told him to be safe. He said 'Linds, you be safe.'"

It was Lindsy and Tony's last conversation. After wondering why she hadn't heard from her husband the next day for a more lengthy chat about their big news, military messengers arrived on Lindsy's doorstep.

"I saw the shadows of the Marines and their shapes," she painfully recounted. "I knew by the time I answered the door."

Sgt. Tony Matteoni, 22, was killed Oct. 1, 2010, in an accident that occurred while the Marine was supporting combat operations in Afghanistan's volatile Helmand Province.

"I remember thinking to myself, 'What do I do?'" she said. "I had been so happy."

As Michigan came together to honor the fallen Marine during solemn ceremonies in Union City, Kalamazoo, and Augusta, Lindsy thought about an emotional conversation she had with Tony before he left for Afghanistan.

"He picked me up and put me on his lap," she recalled. "He said 'Linds, don't worry if I die. Because if I die, I'll take your hand and we'll go to heaven together."

Inside a Michigan hospital at 2:04 a.m. on Feb. 24, Lindsy Matteoni, now a 22-year-old widow, met her new best friend. Her name is Avery Danielle.

Now six months old, daddy's little girl is the light of her mother's life.

"She is amazing, just like Tony," she said. "I wish he was here to see her. He would be so tickled that she looks just like him."

Sent down to Earth by her loving father, Avery is a permanent reminder of a Marine's ultimate sacrifice. When Lindsy and Tony meet again on the beaches of heaven, they will continue watching over a life they created during the pain of America's longest war.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

Image courtesy: Evelyn Vaughn Photography

Mettle of Honor

Images courtesy: U.S. Marine Corps

The definition of the word "mettle," according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, is "vigor and strength of spirit or temperament." Sgt. Dakota Meyer, the first living Marine to receive the Medal of Honor for heroism displayed in Afghanistan, certainly measures up to that definition.

I was nervous while waiting on the phone to speak with Sgt. Meyer, 23, one month before President Obama would place the nation's highest military honor around his neck. I had never spoken to a Medal of Honor recipient before, and wasn't quite sure what to say.

It was then that I heard the sound of cows. That's because this bona fide hero and national treasure recently completed his service in the Marines and went back to Kentucky to work in the family concrete business and help out on a farm.

Meyer doesn't like being called a hero, but I believe he is one. On September 8, 2009, the Marine dragged three fallen Marines and a Navy hospital corpsman out of a horrific firefight on Afghanistan's volatile eastern front. These are the names of those four men, who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.

1st Lt. Michael Johnson, 25, Virginia Beach, Virginia
Staff Sgt. Aaron Kenefick, 30, Roswell, Georgia
Gunnery Sgt. Edwin Johnson Jr., 31, Columbus, Georgia
Petty Officer 3rd Class James Layton, 22, Riverbank, California

When I asked Meyer, who also saved 36 lives during the battle, what it meant to receive the Medal of Honor, his answer was simple and direct. He believes the award is for his fallen comrades, not him.

"It's all about them," the Marine said.

As I wrote in a piece for the USO, Meyer wears two bracelets with the engraved names of 1st Lt. Johnson, Staff Sgt. Kenefick, Gunnery Sgt. Johnson, and Petty Officer 3rd Class Layton. Every day, his wrists remind Meyer not only of his brothers in arms, but the loved ones they left behind.

"I talked to some of them the other day," said Meyer, who checks in as often as he can. "They’re doing alright."

To be candid, Meyer didn't have much more to say. The quiet Marine is the antithesis of self-absorbed; his humility is genuine and palpable. But when asked what his Medal of Honor from President Obama could mean to the country, the man who risked his life to save others and bring home the fallen spoke up.

"I hope to try to help people see how much the Marines help people," he said.

You have certainly done that, Sgt. Meyer. At this hour, the eyes of a grateful nation are on a man who showed the world his mettle under the most trying of circumstances. Thank you for your service and sacrifice, brave Marine.


Note: Please click here to a visit a special U.S. Marine Corps website honoring the heroism of Sgt. Dakota Meyer.

Ten Years Gone

At Dover Air Force Base on Aug. 9, where President Barack Obama would soon arrive to meet privately with grieving relatives of 30 U.S. troops killed in an Afghanistan helicopter crash three days earlier, I thought of the private meeting President George W. Bush had with families of 9/11 victims on Sept. 14, 2001.

"I had just seen the debris of the towers. I knew it would be a miracle if anyone emerged," the former president wrote in Decision Points, his first book since leaving office. "Yet the families refused to give up hope. We prayed together and wept together."

When President Obama leaves office and presumably writes one or more books, I wonder if he will reveal what was going through his mind as he met with helicopter crash victims and saluted flag-draped caskets carrying the indistinguishable remains of 22 U.S. sailors, five soldiers, three airmen, and seven Afghan troops, which arrived together in an unprecedented series of dignified transfer ceremonies.

The day's solemn, emotionally devastating events were closed to the media. I was not in Dover, Del., as a columnist; I was there helping USO staff and volunteers comfort relatives as they witnessed the heartbreaking return of their loved ones to American soil. Out of respect for the privacy of these grieving families, I will not write about what I saw.

However, as someone who witnessed 8/9/11 up close, I believe it was one of the most important days for our country since 9/11/01. As we remember the tenth anniversary of the deadliest terrorist assault in U.S. history and guard against another attack, we must also guard against forgetting the men and women who protect our homeland from further bloodshed.

A photo taken during the Aug. 19 Rockford, Iowa, funeral of Special Operator Petty Officer 1st Class J.T. Tumilson, one of the 17 Navy SEALs killed in the helicopter crash, is one of the most iconic images of a nation at war since the famous photograph of New York firefighters raising the American flag at Ground Zero.

Lisa Pembleton's picture shows Tumilson's dog, Hawkeye, lying in front of the SEAL's flag-draped casket, refusing to leave its owner in the hours before his burial. The crushing image not only visualizes the far-reaching impact of a service member's death, even on an adored pet, but also reminds us that a U.S. military dog died in the tragic helicopter crash, which is the deadliest single incident for our troops during the entire war in Afghanistan.

A sentence uttered by a friend at the SEAL's memorial service, as reported by The Des Moines Register, also resonates as we reflect on the sacrifices made by our military since terrorists murdered thousands of Americans in New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.

"If J.T. had known he was going to be shot down when going to the aid of others, he would have went anyway," Boe Nankivel said.

While I spent several hours near President Obama and other dignitaries on Aug. 9, I felt most nervous while in the presence of uniformed troops who came from great distances to salute their fallen brothers. While these men and women don't win elections or take home paychecks comparable to actors, musicians, or sports figures, they are our nation's true celebrities.

During an encounter with the mother of Port Authority police officer George Howard three days after he died while trying to save innocent people inside the World Trade Center, she gave the fallen hero's badge to President Bush.

"I served 2,865 days as president after Arlene gave me that badge," the 43rd president wrote. "I kept it with me every one of them."

Because of the sacrifices of the men and women who keep us safe, we have the freedom to criticize any president. Yet in my mind, one thing is certain about President Obama. I don't believe he will ever forget what he saw three days after 30 Americans paid the ultimate price in Afghanistan.

Still, Aug. 9 in Dover was not about politics. It was about honoring heroes who died in defense of their countries. As we look back on 9/11/01, the moving events of 8/9/11 serve as a reminder of the incalculable sacrifices made since.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

Always and Forever

Images courtesy: Crissie Carpenter

As we salute 9/11 victims and their families as the tenth anniversary of the terrorist atrocity nears, it is important to also remember the enormous sacrifices of the troops and military families who answered that day's powerful call to service. Lance Cpl. Andrew Carpenter and his widow, Crissie, are two Americans who I firmly regard as post-9/11 heroes.

If you didn't get a chance to read the Carpenters' story, see this photo of their infant son, or watch a speech delivered at the National Press Club about their emotional saga, this week of remembrance might be a good time to become familiar.

After her husband was shot by an enemy sniper on Valentine's Day in Afghanistan and hospitalized in Germany, Crissie Carpenter had to say goodbye to the love of her life by phone from Tennessee while eight months pregnant. Less than a month after her husband's death and just over two weeks after a stirring memorial service in Tennessee, Crissie gave birth to Landon Paul Carpenter. A hospital nurse gave Landon a onesie that read "Born Free...'Cause My Daddy Fought For Me."

I'm bringing up this important story again for two reasons. The first is to point out that every American baby born since September 11, 2001, has entered a land of freedom, which didn't happen by accident. In the gripping days after 9/11, we all worried -- and still worry -- about a nuclear device being detonated by terrorists in an American city, causing chaos and an end to life as we know it. By bravely taking the fight to America's enemies over the past ten years, as the world witnessed when Navy SEALs killed Osama bin Laden, freedom has been preserved.

The second reason I wanted to remind everyone of Lance Cpl. Carpenter's ultimate sacrifice is to demonstrate the similarities between the way Columbia, Tennessee, united behind the Carpenter family and how the country came together after the 9/11 attacks.

The funeral procession I was a part of after the Marine's memorial service was one of the most patriotic, unifying events I've ever experienced. In the days following her husband's death up to this very moment, relatives, friends, and total strangers have asked Crissie what they can do to help her and Landon. "Landon's Fund," which anyone can contribute to, was quickly set up by Regions Bank in Tennessee, and will help the child as he grows up.

The love and support Crissie has been showered with as she raises an infant son amid the pain of sudden loss shows that the American spirit we all witnessed in the days after 9/11 is still alive. Even though the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq no longer fill our TV and computer screens on a daily basis, we must continue to unite behind families of our fallen troops, as well as families who watched in horror as their loved ones were murdered by terrorists on September 11, 2001.

"Our love grows...Always and Forever" is engraved on Lance Cpl. Andrew Carpenter's headstone. A decade after the worst terrorist attack in American history, our love for the men and women who protect us grows too.

A Loss to Bear

Images courtesy: Staff Sgt. Kim Pate

Upon learning that her husband had been killed in Afghanistan, Air Force Staff Sgt. Kim Pate needed to retrieve one treasured memento from her barracks in Kuwait before flying to Germany to meet her husband's flag-draped casket.

"The first thing I had to grab was a glow-in-the-dark Care Bear named Chisel," Staff Sgt. Pate told The Unknown Soldiers. "He's a wish bear — he glows in the dark, and he's supposed to protect me and keep me company whenever my husband's not there."

Kim, 26, is an explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) technician — just like her husband, Marine Gunnery Sgt. EJ Pate, who was 29 years old when he was killed. The pressure-packed job involves some of the most dangerous assignments in post-9/11 war zones, which are filled with deadly improvised explosive devices (IEDs) planted by terrorists.

Kim's heart was filled with anxiety after fellow troops informed her of EJ's tragic June 26 death in Afghanistan's volatile Helmand Province. Yet, arriving in Germany with Chisel, which got its name when Kim "chiseled away the ice and walls" from EJ's heart as they fell in love, brought an unexpected sense of relief to the grieving airman.

"Knowing I was with him on every step of the journey — the memorial in South Carolina, his last motorcycle ride, his burial at Arlington — it was a wonderful feeling," she explained. "I wish every (fallen hero's spouse) was lucky enough to be able to do that."

EJ and Kim married in the fall of 2006 after meeting about a year earlier. During their courtship and throughout their marriage, the airman was drawn to the Marine's ability to smile while doing a very tough job.

"He just had an infectious personality and was fun to be around, even if he was having a bad day," Kim said.

Kim, who was trained by EJ before her own overseas deployments, always kept in close contact with her husband as he faced danger during an incredible seven combat deployments.

"The other guys can tell their wives that everything's fine," she said. "But I know what he does."

Despite the risks, EJ loved his job, and even after losing her husband, Kim still loves hers. She attributes her positive outlook, even in the wake of incomprehensible tragedy, to EJ's undying optimism.

"He brought out the best in people and in any situation," Kim explained. "He made me a better person...a person that I will strive to continue to be for him."

The fellow Marines and EOD technicians who served with EJ feel the same way.

"Hearing the stories from other guys — he truly was one of the best," she said. "He was always ten steps ahead of whatever the problem was."

Despite their talent and expertise, the Pates knew that one or both of them could easily be killed on the battlefield. It's the nature of a job that only a handful of valiant Americans are capable of doing.

"It might be kind of an eerie feeling to know walking up on an IED that it was the last thing my husband did, and I could die doing the same thing," the brave airman said. "But I feel drawn over there. It's a hard thing to explain; we have a constant pull over there as it is, and it's kind of amplified now."

Before Kim goes to sleep at night in Kinston, N.C., she kisses her two stepchildren and looks at the wish bear that has accompanied her everywhere, including on her husband's final journey.

"No matter where I am, from Iraq to training sites, there's not a night I don't have him," she said.

While thinking back to their final conversation, Staff Sgt. Kim Pate said there will never be a night when the memory of Gunnery Sgt. EJ Pate isn't with her too.

"One of the last things I heard from him was that he was really tired and had a long day out," the Marine's widow said. "But he wanted me to know that he was thinking of me and carries me with him everywhere he goes."

"I never believed in soul mates until I met him," she concluded. "He was and will always be mine."

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