'This Is My War'

Images courtesy: Pyeatt family

Scott and Cindy Pyeatt were sitting in a southwest Ohio restaurant on the night of Feb. 4, 2011, when they realized something was wrong.

"We were trying to make small talk, and we just couldn't keep it up," Cindy told The Unknown Soldiers.

Their son, Cpl. Lucas Pyeatt, was on his very first combat patrol in Afghanistan. The Marine's mother could sense that her youngest son was in grave danger.

"I knew he'd been killed," she said.

The Pyeatts went home and made a futile attempt at getting a good night's sleep. Their plan was to wake up early in the morning and get out of the house as soon as possible.

"If I leave, nobody can knock on the door," the terrified military mom thought to herself.

Scott was up first on that Saturday morning, and after getting dressed, he went downstairs to nervously watch the sunrise while waiting for his wife.

"About the third or fourth time I went (to the door), it was getting light out, and I thought 'maybe we're good to go,'" he recounted. "I don't think I sat back on the couch for a minute before the doorbell rang."

As Scott walked to the door and Cindy came down the stairs, Luke's extraordinary life flashed before their eyes, appearing even brighter than the just-risen sun.

Cindy fondly remembers her husband, a retired Air Force chief master sergeant who was stationed in England at the time of Luke's birth, showing his little boy the big fighter jets and quoting lines from "Top Gun."

"He was Maverick and Scott was Goose," she said. "They'd pretend they were flying the planes."

Young Luke was intellectually curious and intensely patriotic.

"You owe something to your country, and it is up to individuals to make a difference," his mother explained. "Very early on, it was ingrained in him."

He studied German and Russian, and in the run-up to his Afghanistan deployment, he began learning how to speak Pashto. Yet even while excelling academically, Luke yearned for an even bigger challenge. He wanted to be a Marine.

"He wanted us to sign in high school early, and I said no," Cindy explained. "I thought that was an adult decision."

Even though he was initially frustrated by his parents' efforts to protect him, Luke never lost sight of his ultimate goal.

"He wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone but himself," his dad said. "He said 'I want to do this, and I want to do it right.'"

Luke was contemplating college when a high school friend, Army Spc. Shawn Murphy, 24, was killed in Baghdad, Iraq, on Dec. 10, 2006. Soon after Cindy gave her son the devastating news, he told her he'd made a decision.

"I can't go to school, mom," Luke said. "This is my war, and this is my obligation."

Pyeatt brought the same selfless attitude to war-torn southern Afghanistan. He had been there only a few weeks when word got around that Marines were needed for a dangerous mission outside the wire of their base.

"This is my time," fellow 2nd Radio Battalion Marines quoted Luke as saying. "I'm going first since I'm the team leader."

Tragically, Cpl. Pyeatt's first combat mission would be his last. According to the Pentagon, the 24-year-old Marine was killed on Feb. 5, 2011, while conducting combat operations in Afghanistan's Helmand Province.

Luke's mom still wonders if they could have escaped the bad news by leaving their house before the military messenger arrived that morning. Still, the outpouring of love from their West Chester, Ohio, community, as well as their faith, comforts the Pyeatts.

"I was mad for a long time, but I don't feel angry anymore," the Gold Star mother said. "I know Luke isn't gone."

The night before my interview with the Marine's parents, Scott sat down to read a letter Cpl. Lucas Pyeatt wrote to his family, including his sister, Emily, in case the worst happened in Afghanistan. After reading his words, it became clear that one day, the family would be reunited.

"I was impressed because he said 'I can't wait to be together again, but there's no hurry," the Gold Star father said. "And that's Luke."

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One Year Later

Image courtesy: Courtney Helton Photography & Video

On Feb. 19, 2011, Lance Cpl. Andrew Carpenter, 27, died at a hospital in Germany after being shot by an enemy sniper in Afghanistan on Valentine's Day. The Marine left behind his wife, Crissie, and their unborn son, Landon.

Link: It Is What It Is

Image courtesy: Crissie Carpenter

On Feb. 28, Lance Cpl. Carpenter received a hero's welcome home in Columbia, Tenn., where his pregnant wife and many more loved ones laid the fallen Marine to rest. Those of us who had the honor of being in Columbia on that sad, chilly day will never forget what we witnessed. While the circumstances were tragic, the stirring day of remembrance embodied the very best of America.

Link: Through and Through

On Mar. 18, less than a month after his father's death, Landon Paul Carpenter was born into a world his father made the ultimate sacrifice to protect.

Link: Because My Daddy Fought for Me

Less than a month later, a stirring photograph taken by Marcia Truitt began making its way across the world after being posted on this blog with Crissie Carpenter's permission. More than any image I've seen during the past year, it sums up the sacrifices our heroes and their families are willing to make for our freedom.

Link: More Than Words

Image courtesy: Marcia Truitt/Inara Studios

For the past eleven months, under the most trying of circumstances, Crissie has raised Landon with tender loving care, with reminders of his father -- the hero -- all around.

Link: It Still Is What It Is

Images courtesy: Crissie Carpenter

Landon, along with all of our children, will grow up in a safer country because of the enormous sacrifices of selfless patriots like Lance Cpl. Andrew Carpenter. Yet as we remember and reflect one year later, let us also recognize that Crissie Carpenter, as a Gold Star military spouse, is an American hero as well. As our troops serve and sacrifice on the battlefield, we should also salute their families.

May God bless Landon Carpenter, his mom, and his dad, who looks down with pride on the loving family and grateful nation he left behind.

Watching Over Us

Images courtesy: Sandri family

Bob Sandri is a kind man. But when it comes to the death of his son, he doesn't mince words.

"He was killed by a vicious enemy," Sandri told The Unknown Soldiers.

It takes a particularly ruthless foe to fire rockets at a medical facility, which is what happened in Fallujah, Iraq, on March 20, 2004, according to the military. On that terrible day, Sgt. Matthew Sandri, 24, a combat medic, was killed alongside Lt. Col. Mark Taylor, 41, an Army surgeon and fellow 82nd Airborne Division paratrooper.

As he grew up playing Army men with his cousins, Matt "loved everybody."

"Just like his mother and his grandparents, Matt didn't have an enemy in the world," his dad said. "Had you met him, you would probably have liked him instantly."

Whenever he saw kids being picked on, Matt would stick up for them. He brought this same spirit to the military as a soldier serving in Afghanistan and Iraq, where terrorists and tyrants spent decades intimidating innocent civilians.

"Matt detested bullies," Bob said.

Matt was waiting to start jump school training at Georgia's Fort Benning when the 9/11 attacks stunned the nation. After graduation, the paratrooper quickly deployed to southern Afghanistan, where he would help set up a trauma center in the insurgent hotbed of Kandahar.

"We didn't know for sure that Matt (would deploy) so quick," Bob said. "But as an American, you realize somebody's gotta do it."

On the combat medic's first battlefield support mission in the summer of 2002, Matt and his fellow troops experienced a life-threatening situation that eventually became a hallmark of terrorist activity in Afghanistan and Iraq. They drove over an improvised explosive device.

"There was just this huge explosion under the vehicle," the soldier's father recalls his son explaining. "It wounded a couple of soldiers and banged up the translator."

The bravery Matt displayed during the harrowing incident endeared him to his unit. Yet whenever he called his parents, the soldier refused to brag about his battlefield accomplishments.

"He wanted to hear about what was going on at home ... what was going on with his buddies," Bob said.

After returning from Afghanistan, the soldier was back at North Carolina's Fort Bragg for only about six months before deploying to Iraq.

"It was Fallujah in 2003, and they saw more casualties than they wanted to," Bob said.

Sgt. Sandri, whose deployment was extended into the spring of 2004, was working in the same type of trauma center he helped set up in Afghanistan when insurgent rockets smashed into the building. Despite frantic efforts to revive him and Dr. Taylor, the soldiers, who were in Iraq to care for the wounded, died of their injuries.

The Sandris were coming home from church when they saw a military messenger waiting on their front porch in Shamokin, Pa. Nearly eight years after Bob stopped his car in the middle of the street, where the soldier delivered the dreadful news, that tragic day often still feels like "seconds ago" to Bob, Annette, and Matt's three siblings.

"You wake up in the morning, and it's the first thing you think about," the Gold Star father said. "At night, it's the last thing you think about before you go to bed."

Since thousands of supporters filled a huge auditorium and lined Pennsylvania streets, there have been many more honors for the Sandri family. Responding to a letter from Matt's youngest sister, Lydia, President George W. Bush quietly invited the family to an event in New York and then the White House just before leaving office in January 2009.

While Bob deeply appreciated the president's kindness, one honor stands above the rest. In 2008, the Taylor/Sandri Medical Training Center, which the 82nd Airborne Division named in honor of the fallen heroes, opened at Fort Bragg.

"That's very special to me," Bob said.

Since Sept. 11, 2001, more than 6,000 American troops have died in Afghanistan and Iraq. Sgt. Matthew Sandri served with honor in both countries. As his father goes to sleep every night seeing his oldest son's face, he believes the fallen watch over the nation they died to protect.

"I didn't lose Matt," he said. "I know where Matt is."

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A Box of Flowers

Images courtesy: Sheyanne Baker

Sheyanne Baker was sitting down to dinner with her husband when she heard someone at the door. With a daughter deployed to Afghanistan and a son in Iraq at the time, knocks on the door made both their hearts jump. Her husband ran to the door to see who was there.

To their relief, it was not a military messenger carrying bad news. It was a delivery man carrying a box.

"They were flowers," Sheyanne told The Unknown Soldiers. "I said, 'Honey, you shouldn't have' (to my husband). He said, 'Read the card.'"

A few months later, just before this past Christmas, there was another knock on the door of their Shelton, Wash., home. This time, Sheyanne was at work. The Walmart employee was about to take her lunch break when a co-worker asked her to come to the store manager's office.

When Sheyanne arrived, the door was closed, prompting her to knock.

"As one of the managers opened the door, I saw the two servicemen," the mother painfully recounted. "'Oh my God, which one?' I said. Then they had me take a seat and told me who it was."

It was Sheyanne's oldest daughter, Spc. Mikayla Bragg, who was just a few days away from leaving Afghanistan. According to the Pentagon, the 21-year-old soldier died in Khowst Province on Dec. 21, 2011. Her mother said that as of Feb. 2, an Army investigation into Mikayla's death was still in progress, although she has been told that her daughter — a qualified sharpshooter — died in a guard tower.

Sheyanne last spoke to her daughter on Dec. 19, two days before her death. Mikayla said that while the previous day had actually been fun, she was looking forward to coming home soon.

"I'd always tell her I love her and to be safe," the grieving mom said. "Her last words to me were 'I love you too and I always am.'"

In the middle of a grief-induced blur, Sheyanne found herself on a six-hour flight from the Pacific Northwest to Dover, Del., where the soldier's loved ones, including her father, Steve Bragg, welcomed Mikayla home. The flag-draped casket carrying the remains of Spc. Bragg would be escorted back to Washington state by her half-brother, Sgt. Allen Davids, 26, who returned from Iraq shortly before Mikayla's death in Afghanistan. He was driving home from his base to surprise his family for Christmas when he got the tragic news.

"I don't know how he held it together, but he said, 'Nobody else is going to bring home my sister,'" Sheyanne recalled.

Instead of a celebration under the gold star on top of the Christmas tree, Sheyanne was forced to adjust to life as a Gold Star mother. While she called the holidays "somber," it was during the painful season when she resolved that her daughter would always be remembered.

"I set up a table with her pictures on it and a candle," Sheyanne said.

As the candle's light flickered, the grieving mother thought of how Mikayla appreciated the "little things in life," such as trips to the store with her mom when she was a child. Sheyanne later heard stories that summed up, in her mind, how her daughter lived.

"At one of the services we had, a guy stood up and said he didn't know her, but he remembered seeing her walk through the halls of their high school," she said. "There was a girl sitting there crying, and Mikayla ... sat there with her and asked what she could do to make it better."

Spc. Mikayla Bragg flew halfway around the world to help make things better in Afghanistan. She missed her family, including her sister, Kandyce, 17, with whom she shared a very close bond. And she always looked forward to getting care packages from her mom.

A few months earlier, when Sheyanne's eyes began scanning through the card that came with her flowers, they welled up with tears when she quickly realized that her daughter, even in the middle of a deployment to Afghanistan, had taken the time to send a care package home.

"Thanks for being my mom," the card read.

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'Just Follow Me'

Images courtesy: Jarboe family

Soldiers from the Army's 4th Squadron, 4th Cavalry Regiment had spent several hours securing a perilous southern Afghanistan village on Apr. 10, 2011, when Sgt. Jamie Jarboe relayed an order to leave. The day's mission was accomplished, and it was time to head back to base.

"Just follow me," Sgt. Jarboe said.

The soldier recounted what happened next.

"I turned to my right, and before I put my foot on the ground, I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes," Jarboe told The Unknown Soldiers. "The scariest part was when I realized what happened."

An enemy sniper had shot Jamie just as he was leading the Pale Riders, as his unit is known, out of the area.

"The blood was soaking my clothes, and at this point I was like, 'Holy crap, I'm really hurt,'" the 27-year-old warrior said. "I remember looking at my hand, and it wouldn't even move, and that's when I started freaking out."

As he lay in the blood-soaked mud of Afghanistan, unable to take cover as a firefight erupted all around him, Jarboe thought of the woman he had just married on Valentine's Day and the two children at home who needed him. "If I'm going to succumb to these wounds," Jamie thought, "then it'll be on my own terms."

"I'm not dying out here," the Frankfort, Ind., soldier resolved. "I'm going to die someplace like America."

After passing out, Jarboe later woke up at the first of many hospitals he would visit in the United States.

"I made it," he thought. "I'm here."

Despite his iron will, it is often difficult for Jarboe to speak, and it's even harder for him to come to grips with the fact that he's paralyzed from the chest down. But whenever he needed to pause for a quick breather during our phone conversation, Melissa Jarboe, 32, spoke up to convey unconditional, unwavering support for her husband.

"I have an acceptance of a path that we're all chosen for," Melissa said. "We talked about it before he left."

Melissa demonstrates her faith even during the toughest moments, such as the time when one of her daughters asked who shot Jamie.

"I said, 'I don't know, but I want you to pray for him, even if he's the enemy,'" she recalled.

While God is a source of comfort, nothing could have prepared Melissa for seeing her husband in the hospital.

"The first time I got to see Jamie, I literally went into shock," she said. "He was trying to scream, but being hooked up to so many machines, he couldn't talk."

Having already deployed to Iraq, Jamie knew the risks of war. What frustrated him about Afghanistan, however, was rarely being able to see the enemy.

"You're always getting shot at from really close range," he said. "But because of the buildings, trees and farmland, it's hard to tell where it's coming from."

As Jamie lay in a Colorado hospital bed awaiting a transfer back to Maryland, where he would have surgery the next day at Johns Hopkins University, the wounded soldier and his wife repeatedly cited the courage of the children as a constant source of renewable strength.

"Both girls forfeited their Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas and spent (the holidays) in the hospital with us," Melissa said. "Never once have they complained."

Jamie and Melissa never thought their first year of marriage would take place mostly inside hospital rooms. But ever since Sgt. Jarboe bravely told his fellow soldiers to "just follow me," support has poured into their lives via thousands of cards, emails and Facebook messages.

"It's all been very surprising to me," the grateful wounded warrior said in a soft, quiet voice.

Jamie and Melissa both asked several questions about what was going on in my life, as hearing about the day-to-day experiences of others helps them feel connected to the outside world. Someday soon, they hope their lives will regain some sense of normalcy.

"My goal is to be done with the hospitals," Jamie said. "I want to do what a father does and be what a husband's supposed to be."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Uncle Nick

Images courtesy: Olivia Hoffman

Only days after her brother lost his legs in Afghanistan, Olivia Hoffman learned that she and her husband were expecting their second child. Already overwhelmed with emotion as her big brother fought for his life, Olivia asked God for strength.

"I cried many nights following that wondering if this baby would ever get to meet (his or her) Uncle Nick," Olivia said in an email to The Unknown Soldiers. Her account of the months since Army 1st Lt. Nick Vogt was nearly killed in a Kandahar province terrorist attack on Nov. 12, 2011, is among the most poignant pieces of writing one will ever encounter.

"Although he only got to meet my other daughter in the hospital when she was born (he deployed two days later) he would always mail her stuff and Skype with us," she continued. "After his brain surgery, his memory is a little rocky, and he hadn't remembered that I had a daughter, but he got to see her through the door at Christmas and he by far gave her the biggest smile."

First Lt. Vogt has undergone countless surgeries since his life was saved by soldiers on the battlefield and doctors in Afghanistan, Germany, and the United States. The amount of blood needed to keep the Army Ranger alive, according to family members, is among the most ever given to a wounded service member.

"His biggest hurdle right now is getting rid of the ventilator," Olivia wrote on Jan. 13.

As I initially worked on this column, Olivia asked me to pause after Nick's condition suddenly deteriorated. According to doctors, Nick almost died on the operating table during surgery on one of his lungs. Even amid a frightening setback, the Vogt family, friends, and thousands of supporters on the "Nick Vogt Family" Facebook page simultaneously dropped to their knees in prayer.

About 48 hours later, their prayers were answered.

"Nick has been very stable these last two days, and doctors are optimistic the surgery was a success in repairing the lung," Olivia wrote.

Nick, who turned 24 in the hospital on Dec. 13, 2011, is the oldest of five siblings. As their brother fights for his life, Olivia, 22, cares for her two younger sisters and brother in Crestline, Ohio, while her parents spend countless hours at Nick's Bethesda, Md., bedside.

"They are up at 6 every morning walking to the hospital and don't leave until around 8 (p.m.)," she explained. "They put on such strong faces for Nick. We always tease mom because she is such a 'crier' and very emotional, but her and Dad have really been Nick's rock throughout this whole ordeal."

The community is not only rallying around Nick because he is a wounded warrior. From relatives to folks who barely know Nick, everyone I've corresponded with says he is a genuinely splendid person.

"Nobody has ever not liked him," Olivia said. "He's also one of the most humble human beings I know."

Even while dealing with unimaginable pain in the hospital, Nick's warm personality brightens the smiles of his caregivers.

"Mom just shared a funny story with me," his sister wrote. "The other day there were four nurses working around him, and one was very cute.

"Nick woke up and mouthed 'you're beautiful,' then realizing he didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, he mouthed the same to the other nurses," Olivia continued. "That's totally Nick!"

A decision this selfless patriot made earlier in life is also "totally Nick." After being accepted to medical school following his West Point graduation, Vogt chose to first attend Army Ranger School. He wanted to deploy as quickly as possible.

"I want to be a warrior in order to take care of warriors," Olivia quoted her brother as saying.

Even though doctors now take care of him, 1st Lt. Nick Vogt will always be a warrior. And as his next niece or nephew grows up, the child will want to be just like Uncle Nick.

"Despite being stuck in the ICU for two months and still not being able to talk, he will mouth the words 'thank you' to his nurses," Olivia said.

Let's all join together in mouthing those words right back.

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Fathers and Sons

Image courtesy: U.S. Air Force/Roland Balik

Almost every American sports fan has heard of Hickory, Ind., which was immortalized in the 1986 film "Hoosiers." Yet many who recite the movie's unforgettable lines think Hickory actually exists. It doesn't, although some real-life towns come close.

The northern Indiana town of Hamlet is about 100 miles from New Richmond, where most of "Hoosiers" was filmed. Like the fictional community that Hickory High unites on its way to an improbable men's basketball state championship, Hamlet is tiny, with just 300 households full of fathers and sons who love Indiana sports.

Spc. Robert Tauteris III just returned to the Hoosier State from Afghanistan, where he was serving with the 713th Engineer Company of the Indiana National Guard. Instead of a welcome home celebration, though, the 22-year-old soldier came back to the United States for a Jan. 8 dignified transfer ceremony.

The soldier escorted the flag-draped casket carrying his father, Spc. Robert Tauteris Jr., home from Afghanistan. On Jan. 6, alongside Staff Sgt. Jonathan Metzger, 32, Spc. Christopher Patterson, 20, and Spc. Brian Leonhardt, 21, the elder Tauteris, 44, was killed by an improvised explosive device planted in the volatile Kandahar Province, according to the Pentagon.

Surrounded by his family, the grieving son spoke to reporters on Jan. 11. Quotes from the news conference are provided by WSBT-TV reporter Clifton French, an Iraq war veteran.

"It was an honor being able to escort my father and the other fallen soldiers home from Afghanistan," Tauteris said. "It's something I'll never forget, and I'm more honored to do that than I have been to do many things in my life."

Long before the father and son served together in Afghanistan, the younger Robert and his brother, Matthew, looked up to their dad.

"He stood up as our boy scout leader from the time we were very young to being too old to be in boy scouts," the soldier said.

Gen. Martin Dempsey, Chairman of the Joints Chiefs of Staff, stood and saluted in the darkness of Delaware's Dover Air Force Base as fellow troops carried each flag-draped casket onto the soil of the nation they died for. Maj. Gen. Martin Umbarger, adjutant general of the Indiana National Guard, called on Americans to recognize the enormous sacrifices still being made in Afghanistan.

"We have no more solemn obligation than rendering the proper respect, honor, and tribute to these faithful warriors and to provide the fullest possible support to their families during this difficult time," Maj. Gen. Umbarger said.

Tauteris reminded reporters that while his dad was a dedicated soldier after enlisting at age 40, he was a father, first and foremost.

"I can't stress enough how much he cared about me and my brother," the soldier said. "It was the most important thing to him; it was like his meaning in life was to be a father."

America's post-9/11 conflicts have touched many fathers and sons. In May 2010, Chief Warrant Officer Michael McHugh boarded a plane in Iraq, where he was deployed, to meet the flag-draped casket of his father, Col. John McHugh, 46, who had been killed alongside four fellow troops in Afghanistan.

Just days after Col. McHugh's death, the Kansas City Royals honored the fallen hero by asking his grieving son to throw out the first pitch before a home game.

"I lost my best friend," Chief Warrant Officer McHugh wrote to the Unknown Soldiers in 2010. "The first pitch at Kauffman Stadium was such an honor, and we're grateful to the Royals for doing that for our family."

Like Michael McHugh, Robert Tauteris III is an American soldier — but also a son who lost his dad.

"He is a hero," Spc. Tauteris III said of his father. "I think what made him who he is ... is how much he cared about his children and his family."

One of the most touching moments in "Hoosiers" comes when Hickory's assistant coach, played by Dennis Hopper, is thrust into leading the team after the head coach, played by Gene Hackman, is ejected. After the play he drew up wins the game in dramatic fashion, he is approached by a player who is also his son.

"You did good, pop," he said. "You did real good."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Image courtesy: Sgt. John Crosby

Evil Does Exist

Image courtesy: Sgt. Laura Bonano

One of the most troubling aspects of the decline in America's interest in the war our troops are fighting overseas is the unwillingness for certain segments of American society -- namely some members of the national media -- to acknowledge that every day on the battlefield, our forces are confronting evil men.

A stark reminder was offered Thursday by a group of cowardly Taliban terrorists in Kandahar, Afghanistan. According to the BBC, at least seven civilians were killed when a suicide bomber blew up his car near the crucial southern city's airport. According to Afghan officials cited in the article, two victims of the terrorist attack were children.

There is nothing more despicable and horrifying than the murder of a child. The Taliban and al Qaeda don't give a second thought to butchering even the most innocent people on earth.

A day earlier, dozens of Afghans and also an unidentified number of coalition troops were killed and wounded when a terrorist blew himself up in a busy Helmand province marketplace. A young Afghan victim is pictured above. Gen. John R. Allen, the tough-as-nails Marine who commands the International Security Assistance Force in Afghanistan, immediately condemned the disgraceful attack.

"This latest act of violence further confirms that the insurgency has declared outright war on the people of Afghanistan and will stop at nothing to continue to use terrorism and intimidation to advance their own malign and selfish ends," Gen. Allen said. "ISAF will continue to partner with the Afghan National Security Forces to eliminate this scourge and hold the perpetrators accountable."

Every American should share in the general's outrage about the Taliban's assault on freedom and innocent life. I hope every terrorist responsible for helping plan these attacks is hunted down, captured, or killed.

File image courtesy: Lance Cpl. Robert Carrasco

On Thursday, six U.S. Marines were reportedly killed when a CH-53 Sea Stallion helicopter like the one pictured above crashed in Helmand province. The Unknown Soldiers will continue to follow this tragic story as we extend our deepest thoughts and prayers to the families of these fallen Marines.

On Sunday, also in Helmand province, two Marines were killed in action while conducting combat operations against the Taliban.

Cpl. Jon-Luke Bateman, 22, Tulsa, Oklahoma
Lance Cpl. Kenneth Cochran, 20, Wilder, Idaho

It is a tragedy that Cpl. Bateman, who is pictured below on the left, and Lance Cpl. Cochran, right, only lived 42 years between them. But America is extremely fortunate to blessed with heroes like these. They understood -- far better than you or me -- that there is a serious threat to our way of life. But unlike 99% of our population, they volunteered to do something about it.

At this hour in Oklahoma, Idaho, and around the country, families and friends are saying goodbye to some of the best citizens our country has to offer. At this hour in Afghanistan, their brothers and sisters in arms continue the fight against men who intentionally slaughter children in a hopeless effort to advance their corrupt, bankrupt ideology of hate.

Real evil does exist. But fortunately for America and the world, real heroes exist too.

Images courtesy: Facebook/U.S. Marine Corps

The Mayor of Bordentown

Images courtesy: Moore family

In cities and towns across America, millions of little children dream of becoming firefighters, soldiers or leaders. In Bordentown, N.J., one little boy became all three.

"We lived about a half a block from a firehouse," Amy Moore told The Unknown Soldiers. "Ben would always go to where the city workers were."

Her son, future Army Spc. Benjamin Moore, felt an instant connection to those who put out fires. The little boy wanted to learn more about his heroes and their families.

"He knew everything about everyone," she said.

On Sept. 11, 2001, as an anguished Mayor Rudy Giuliani said the number of casualties in New York would be "more than any of us can bear," Ben watched emergency workers risk everything to save the innocent. Just 65 miles from the epicenter of the worst terrorist attack in U.S. history, Ben, 14, resolved to become a firefighter.

"He said, 'Mom, I want to be respected,'" Amy recalled. "'I want to wear the uniform, and I want people to look up to me.'"

On his 16th birthday, still coping with an impairment that affected his vision since early childhood, Ben signed up to train as a volunteer firefighter. Two years later, he also became an emergency medical technician.

As a young firefighter and EMT, Ben quietly displayed compassionate, gallant qualities.

"A little baby died in his arms after he pulled the baby out of a car," Amy said. "I don't know why he never told us; he was just a humble man."

While lending a hand to his fellow citizens was fulfilling, Ben thought he could do even more. As he struggled to decide between becoming a police officer and going to college, his father, recognizing his son's dedication to duty, suggested a military career.

"My husband and I don't regret that at all," she said. "It's something (Ben) wanted to do."

When the Army raised concerns about Moore's vision and ordered further testing, Ben could have easily moved on.

"He had to go to the recruiting office a few times and really fight for it," Amy said.

After finally passing his vision tests, Ben left for boot camp, and came back "a totally different man than when he left," according to the soldier's mom. A year later, in April 2010, the mature, battle-ready soldier would deploy to Afghanistan. But first, his older brother, Patrick, had a favor to ask.

"Patrick proposed to his now-wife and asked Ben to be his best man," she said. "Ben was ecstatic."

On Jan. 12, 2011, with roughly 60 combat patrols under his belt thus far during the deployment, Ben asked a soldier to give him a Bible before returning to the battlefield to sweep for roadside bombs.

"We think Ben had a premonition," his mother said.

Later that day, Spc. Moore, 23, was killed by an enemy improvised explosive device in Ghazni province. He died alongside Staff Sgt. Omar Aceves, 30, and Cpl. Jarrid King, 20.

As the Moores brought Ben's flag-draped casket to his hometown from Delaware's Dover Air Force Base, the ambulance he once drove, along with a Bordentown city fire truck, followed closely behind. On bridges, firefighters stood atop their trucks to salute one of their own.

"Every single overpass on I-295 had an American flag," Ben's mom recalled.

When Ben's personal effects were returned to his loved ones, they were stunned to find a notebook containing a handwritten speech that he planned to deliver at his brother's wedding. Ben saved a typed version to his laptop on Jan. 10, just two days before his death.

As wedding guests wept, Patrick, 28, read his younger brother's toast.

"Remember to always live, laugh, love, and have no regrets ... never look back at the hard times," Ben wrote. "Always make the best of life like you do now. Cheers."

Instead of dreaming about becoming firefighters, soldiers, or leaders, little children in Bordentown now strive to be like Spc. Benjamin Moore. After all, Ben is now the city's honorary mayor.

"His death has affected many lives, and you could tell by the outpouring," Ben's mother said. "It helped us, but it also helped them to be able to have a hero."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Marine's Best Friend

Image courtesy: Cpl. Reece Lodder

I'm not sure what Marines deployed to Afghanistan would consider their best friend -- a dog or a good night's sleep.

The above photograph was taken last week by Cpl. Reece Lodder, who The Unknown Soldiers profiled just before he left for Afghanistan. Needless to say, the Marine combat correspondent is doing fine work during a tough deployment.

According to Cpl. Lodder's caption, the dog in the photo, Blue, detects improvised explosive devices. Blue is protecting his handler, Marine Lance Cpl. Jarrett Hatley, 21, of Millingport, North Carolina, as he takes a quick nap (covered by a Washington Redskins blanket) after helping Afghan National Army soldiers clear compounds in the central Helmand River Valley, a volatile area rife with threats from insurgents and terrorists.

The other Marine resting in the photo is Lance Cpl. Matthew Scofield, 19, of Syracuse, New York. Both Marines are assigned to 3rd Platoon, Lima Company, 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment.

I can't imagine how difficult it must be to get some sleep -- even for a few hours -- while deployed to a war zone. Having spoken with Lodder, I'm sure he hopes this photo reminds people what thousands of America's brave men and women in uniform serving in Afghanistan are sacrificing on a daily basis for our freedom and security.

To Cpl. Lodder, Lance Cpls. Hatley and Scofield, all your fellow Marines, and of course, Blue the dog: thank you for your service and stay safe!