The Other Fellow First

Images courtesy: Douglas J. Green Memorial Foundation

While working as a summer camp counselor, future U.S. Army Spc. Douglas Green discovered a motto that would guide the rest of his life.

"It was 'the other fellow first,'" Spc. Green's mother, Suni Erlanger, told The Unknown Soldiers.

As a young boy growing up in the northern Virginia suburbs, Doug played with toy Army men but also displayed a level of maturity that went far beyond his years.

"He was my hero way before he enlisted in the Army," Doug's mom said. "He was that boy in school who was against bullying, even when it was tolerated."

On Sept. 11, 2001, Doug, who was only 13, made clear that America's new war wouldn't be someone else's fight.

"He wanted to get al Qaida for what they did to us," Suni said. "I knew something changed in Doug that day."

Doug spent his high school years doing everything from playing football to singing and dancing in school musicals. He also kept in touch with an Army recruiter, even though his parents worried deeply about the risks of serving in a post-9/11 world.

"He didn't have to go in," Doug's mother said. "He had a very sheltered life."

Doug volunteered on his 18th birthday and deployed to Iraq two years later.

"When his Sergeant asked who would want to go out on special missions, Doug's hand was always going up first," Suni said.

After returning to Alaska's Fort Wainwright before an upcoming Afghanistan deployment, Doug joined the local Big Brothers Big Sisters program, where he served as a young boy's mentor.

"He could have done anything ... screwed around, hung out in bars," his mom said. "(His charity work) just amazed me, it really did."

Before deploying, Doug went back to his hometown of Sterling, Va., where he reconnected with Alicia Swanstrom, who he originally met in school. The pair became inseparable, with Doug resolving to ask for her hand in marriage once he returned from Afghanistan.

"I knew he was serious about her," Suni said.

Doug deployed to a remote southern Afghanistan outpost and spent most of 2011 on daring night patrols, which often resulted in tense firefights with Taliban and al Qaida insurgents.

"They let him (come home) for a two-week leave," his mother said. "You could see in his eyes that he'd seen a lot of bloodshed."

With just weeks remaining in his deployment, Doug, who was Jewish, asked his mom to send a Star of David that he could wear around his neck.

"He thought that was going to protect him," Suni said.

The crushing loss of a fellow soldier, Spc. Brandon Mullins, 21, reinforced Doug's belief that his own death could soon be at hand. While Suni said her son would have been allowed to stay behind from his final combat patrols, Doug went anyway.

On Aug. 28, 2011, Spc. Green, 23, was killed when terrorists attacked his unit with small arms fire and roadside bombs, according to the Pentagon.

"He would always assure his other soldiers that everybody would be OK," the fallen soldier's mother said. "He just didn't care about himself."

Two weeks before his death, Doug mailed a heartfelt letter to his loved ones.

"If I could leave you with any words of wisdom it would be two things that I have always tried to live my life by," he wrote. "Make sure you always put yourself in the position of anyone you ever have contact with. You will never truly know a man or woman until you try to see things from their perspective.

"Secondly, never pass judgment or put anger on someone too quickly or harshly," Doug continued. "Because I guarantee you that person is fighting a battle that you know nothing about."

Doug is buried in Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery, where a toy Army figure and other mementos left by his girlfriend, Alicia, decorated his white headstone during my Dec. 25, 2012, visit.

"I will always love and cherish all of the time I was given on this earth and am thankful for this life and everyone in it," Doug wrote in his final letter.

Indeed, Spc. Douglas Green always put the other fellow first.

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Note: The Douglas J. Green Memorial Foundation has been established to help U.S. troops and veterans. Please click here to learn more about the organization and its mission.

The Mountain

Images courtesy: Capt. Adam Brochetti

As U.S. Marine Capt. Adam Brochetti led a New Year's Eve patrol into one of the most dangerous areas of Afghanistan, he thought of his uncle's last stand on a mountain in Vietnam.

"Moving up to Sangin on that evening, I thought about my uncle, his last moments, and his responsibilities," Capt. Brochetti told The Unknown Soldiers.

Pfc. Frank Brochetti, 20, was posthumously awarded the Silver Star for his heroic actions on April 8, 1972, atop the Nui Ba Den (Black Virgin Mountain) in Vietnam's Tay Ninh Province.

"Although wounded, he still directed fire on the attacking enemy forces until he succeeded in reaching the fighting position," Pfc. Brochetti's award citation reads.

More than 38 years later, the young U.S. Army soldier's gallantry inspired his nervous, courageous nephew as he led Marines to battle in Afghanistan's Helmand Province.

"This could be it, but let's do it," Adam said to himself on Dec. 31, 2010, not knowing if he and his fellow Marines would live to see 2011.

The grandson of a Marine who served in World War II, Adam had grown up hearing stories of his fallen uncle's bravery.

"My whole life, it was a very big deal," Adam said. "You walk into my grandparents' house and there's a shrine with the flag, his picture and his Purple Heart."

While he spent years looking at photos, studying maps and reading letters, it wasn't until he graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy and deployed to Afghanistan that he began to truly understand the sacrifices of people like his uncle.

"Once I became a Marine, it hit me, knowing the kind of Marines I've led," Adam said.

Adam first deployed to Afghanistan in November 2008 with an infantry unit, and after getting a unique opportunity to attend U.S. Army Ranger School upon his return, went back to war in November 2010 with the 2nd Marine Reconnaissance Battalion. As a platoon commander, nothing was more important to Adam than keeping his Marines safe.

"Every decision I made, I made it thinking 'this young Marine, he'll be somebody's uncle someday,'" Adam said. "It's a huge burden of responsibility."

As New Year's Day 2011 dawned over southern Afghanistan's treacherous terrain, Adam and his fellow Marines had survived yet another tense encounter with the enemy. When the entire platoon came home that summer, Adam knew he would have made his uncle proud.

"My biggest accomplishment to date was that I brought them all back," he said. "The biggest compliment was coming back and having my Marines thank me."

Now 29, married and raising a family, Adam is focused on guiding Marines who've made extraordinary sacrifices since 9/11. As Company Commander for wounded, ill and injured Marines at the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, Adam spends his days helping heroes who've endured immense pain and suffering.

"These were young, strapping studs who commanded respect from the Marines around them," Adam said from Bethesda, Md. "Now some are missing limbs and their entire lives have changed."

Citing post-traumatic stress and suicide as serious problems that continue to grip the military community, Adam is calling on cities and towns across America to embrace wounded warriors and all veterans returning from difficult assignments overseas.

"(Local leaders) need to understand who their vets are and welcome them back with open arms," the Marine said. "Make an attempt to meet their families and help them transition back to society."

Later this year, thanks to his grandparents and a Challenge Grant from the Travis Manion Foundation, Adam will travel with relatives to Vietnam to honor Pfc. Frank Brochetti.

"I want to pay respects to my uncle and give (my grandparents) some closure by walking around that hallowed ground," Adam said.

As he stands atop the mountain where his uncle and many more American heroes made the ultimate sacrifice, Capt. Adam Brochetti will give thanks for the valor of a previous generation, as well as his own.

"They're brave, they're courageous, and they'll go to hell and back for you," he said. "That inspired me not only to be a Marine and serve our country, but because when I look at my guys, I see my uncle."

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Note: To see the weekly "Unknown Soldiers" column in your local newspaper, please click here.

Closer to Home

Images courtesy: Jennifer Clarke

Jennifer Clarke was busy managing a Michigan grocery store when she got a phone call from her husband. He told her she needed to come home from work.

"I said 'I can't leave, I'm in charge of the store,'" Jennifer told The Unknown Soldiers. "Then I remember plain as day, my husband said 'Jennifer, there are two men here in military uniforms.'"

Jennifer's heart dropped as she let go of the phone and ran out the door. Her son, Pfc. Shane Cantu, was in Afghanistan, and all that the military mom wanted was for him to come home alive.

"Please, let my son only be injured," the tearful mother said as she drove home in a panic.

When she walked into her Corunna, Mich., home, a young soldier tried to maintain his composure while delivering an official casualty notification from the U.S. Army.

"Not my boy," Jennifer replied. "He's coming home, right?"

"No ma'am," the solemn soldier replied. "He was killed in action in Afghanistan on Aug. 28, 2012."

Jennifer, hoping she would soon wake from a nightmare, collapsed on the floor.

"You just don't think things like this will hit close to your community," she said.

According to the Department of Defense, Pfc. Cantu, 20, died after he was wounded by shrapnel in eastern Afghanistan. He was serving with the Army's 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team, based in Vicenza, Italy.

As the grieving mother reflected less than five months after her only son's death, Jennifer spoke of the last time she corresponded with Shane, who knew his young life was in peril.

"It's getting crazy over here, mom," the soldier said. "I can't promise you I'll be home."

Those difficult words will always be with Jennifer, who knows her son's last days were filled with anguish. On Aug. 15, less than two weeks before Shane's death, his close friend and fellow soldier, Pfc. Andrew Keller, 22, was killed by enemy small arms fire, according to the Pentagon. Shane, who wrote a stirring eulogy in Afghanistan that his mom would later deliver to Pfc. Keller's family, blamed himself.

"I told him you have to stay strong," Jennifer said.

Shane, a former high school football star, joined the Army to better his country. But as he told his mother after boot camp, he also wanted to better himself.

"He hugged me, told me he loved me, and said 'mom, this was the best thing I ever could have done for myself,'" Jennifer said.

The soldier's mother said that Shane, who was known for his smile and sense of humor, wanted to serve in Afghanistan so badly that he broke down and cried after a prior deployment was cancelled.

"I didn't join the Army to sit back and watch," Shane said. "I joined to be a leader."

Instead of waiting for a future opportunity, Shane pleaded his case to an Army officer. The First Lieutenant, who immediately saw the young soldier's potential, would later tell Jennifer how much Shane impressed him.

"It's men like him that make our country strong," the officer said.

When Shane eventually left for Afghanistan in July 2012, Jennifer, like any caring mother, was deeply concerned.

"I was heartbroken, but I knew that's where he needed to be," she said. "As his mother, I stood behind him and I stood proud."

Jennifer will always stand behind her son, who hoped to become a U.S. marshal when his military career concluded. To honor Shane's memory, Jennifer has set up a scholarship fund through the Shiawassee Community Foundation to assist students pursuing law enforcement careers.

Pfc. Shane Cantu was nine years old when America was attacked on Sept. 11, 2001. Yet while growing from boy to man, he developed a devotion to family and freedom that's inspired Americans across all walks of life.

"I get notes saying, 'Thank you for your sacrifices,'" the fallen hero's mom said. "I walk into stores and people hug me and say 'God bless your family.'"

On Sept. 6, Jennifer Clarke watched in awe as hundreds lined Michigan streets to honor the arrival of Shane's flag-draped casket. While her son didn't come home alive, Shane's proud mother realized that his selfless spirit most certainly did.

"This is for my boy," she said.

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The Youngest Soldier

Images courtesy: Sgt. 1st Class Mark Bell

Khalil Quarles loves the U.S. military. Not only does the 10-year-old boy idolize those who serve, but has dreamt for years about putting on his country's uniform.

"He has Army figurines and talks about the Army all the time," U.S. Army Maj. Norland James told The Unknown Soldiers from Kuwait on Dec. 21. "He would love it if he could have a picture from an Army soldier or become an Army soldier himself."

Tragically, a terrible disease stands between Khalil and his dreams. The young boy, who lives in Baltimore, is suffering from terminal cancer. So when Maj. James heard about Khalil through a friend who works as a hospice nurse, the deployed soldier decided to act.

"We wanted to make his dreams come true," James said.

The 37-year-old soldier, who is serving in Kuwait as chief of medical logistics operations, has devoted the last 13 years of his life to the Army. The Albany, Ga., native, who has also been to Afghanistan twice, just spent another holiday season apart from his family and friends.

Amid the continuing sacrifices of military service, James remains intensely appreciative of civilians who support the men and women of the armed forces. When presented with a chance to brighten what could be Khalil's last holiday season, the soldier knew it was his opportunity to give back.

"It's one thing to say 'thank you' with words, but it's another thing to say 'thank you' with actions coming behind it," James said.

Six days before Christmas, a nurse told Khalil that someone special was waiting to talk to him on Skype.

"He was like 'wow, I can't believe it, I'm talking to an Army soldier in Kuwait who's deployed,'" James said.

The soldier will never forget the boy's reaction.

"Just seeing the look in his eyes ... you can't describe it," James said. "It was amazing and it made me smile."

As the soldier and young boy spoke face-to-face while separated by thousands of miles, Khalil could temporarily forget about his dreadful illness. For about ten minutes, Khalil's wish of speaking to a real-life soldier was finally realized. Unbeknownst to the elated child, though, an even bigger dream was about to be fulfilled.

"When I told him I have a couple of my friends waiting outside for (him), he had a look of amazement," James said.

As Khalil, who walks with crutches, made his way to the front of his family's home to see what James was talking about, the soldier sat at a computer station in Kuwait, eagerly awaiting what he knew was coming next. About 40 U.S. Army Reserve soldiers from Maryland's Fort Meade, along with neighbors and camera crews, were waiting to greet Khalil.

"To see him step out on the front stairs ... all those people," James said. "It gave me joy to see the happiness on his face."

As soldiers and supporters clapped and cried, Khalil was asked to raise his right hand after the singing of the National Anthem. The young boy, who never thought he'd have the chance to meet a soldier, let alone become one, then took the U.S. Armed Forces Oath of Enlistment. Khalil is now an honorary soldier in the U.S. Army Reserve.

"It meant a lot to us and definitely other people who had a part in making this happen," James said.

Early this year, James will come home after completing another overseas deployment. Given the soldier's extraordinary efforts to bring happiness to a sick boy and his loved ones, it wasn't surprising to hear what he plans to do upon returning to American soil.

"I'm hoping to actually meet Khalil and his family," the soldier said.

Every day, the men and women of the U.S. military and their families serve, sacrifice, and sometimes suffer while defending our freedom and security. Maj. Norland James has spent 13 years protecting those ideals. Thanks to this compassionate soldier and his fellow troops, it is an honor to introduce you to the newest member of America's remarkable military community.

His name is Khalil Quarles.

COPYRIGHT 2013 CREATORS.COM

Christmas at Arlington

There's no place like Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery, especially on Christmas morning.

Visiting the hallowed ground, where many heroes of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are laid to rest, is an experience filled with heartbreak. But because of the enormous accomplishments of the brave men and women buried there, Section 60 is also one of the most authentic, inspiring places that any American could visit.

After a Christmas Eve mixture of light snow, sleet and rain, Dec. 25 was a glorious morning in the nation's capital. The winter sun, more forgiving than the brutal desert heat many of our heroes have endured in Afghanistan and Iraq, glistened off the magnificent white headstones that mark this young generation's devotion to freedom.

Amid the majestic setting, however, is the aforementioned sadness. Soon after arriving at Section 60, I saw a little boy standing with a woman, presumably his mother, at the grave of a fallen hero.

"Hi, papa," the child said.

While paying my respects to warriors who made the ultimate sacrifice, including several whose stories have appeared in this column, I looked over again at the young boy and his mom.

Before they left the cemetery, the boy threw his arms around the headstone in front of him. He then unleashed a bear hug that would have undoubtedly made his papa smile.

"Goodbye," the child said before he and his mom slowly walked away.

Whenever I visit Section 60, there are always more graves than my previous trip. It's a tragic, pointed reminder that the conflict launched after Sept. 11, 2001, continues to this very day.

Not far from the last row of the newest temporary grave markers was a young woman, probably in her 20s, sitting in silence on a blanket. She was staring at the name of someone she clearly cared about, probably thinking about what was and what could have been. In her hand was a letter, which she clutched and held close to heart.

When I walked by, I put my hand on her shoulder and told her I was sorry for her loss. She looked up at me and acknowledged my presence, albeit without a spoken word. This was Christmas morning, and she was spending a precious moment with someone she loved. It was time for me to go, but like the little boy and his mom, it was impossible to forget her face.

A few minutes later, I encountered the grave of U.S. Marine Staff Sgt. Vincent Bell. Affixed to the fallen hero's headstone were three pictures: two of the Marine in uniform and one showing him dressed up in a nice suit. Atop his headstone were three rocks, along with a coin, bracelet and gold cross.

On Christmas night, I typed Staff Sgt. Bell's name into my search bar and learned that the 28-year-old Marine served four tours of duty in Iraq before being killed in southern Afghanistan on Nov. 30, 2011, while conducting combat operations. A tough, seasoned warrior from Detroit, Bell repeatedly risked his life for his country and did so with bravery and honor.

How could these young men and women be so extraordinary? How could they volunteer, over and over again, for such dangerous duty? How could their loved ones cope with such profound, overwhelming grief? These are questions that every American, not just those who visit Arlington National Cemetery, should still be pondering.

The American heroes buried in Section 60, and throughout Arlington, are not fictional characters from books and movies. They are husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. They sacrifice lifetimes alongside loved ones like the young woman on the blanket and the little boy who hugged his papa's headstone. And they do it to protect us.

Just as I was leaving Arlington to spend the rest of Christmas Day with my family, a privilege I no longer take for granted, I almost stepped on a gold star. Visitors had hung several decorations on a nearby tree, and the ornament probably blew off during the previous day's bad weather.

Written on the gold star was a simple, perfect message to the heroes of Section 60 and their families: "Thank you."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Life As We Know It

Image courtesy: U.S. Air Force/Greg Davis

It's easy to forget that thousands of Americans are still at war.

Whether we're immersed in our families, jobs, hobbies, televisions, computers or smart phones, there are plenty of ways to avoid thinking about a faraway place called Afghanistan. The one percent of our population that volunteers to protect us, however, doesn't have that luxury.

Two North Dakota families are experiencing incomprehensible devastation after a Dec. 3 terrorist attack in Afghanistan's Helmand Province. According to the Department of Defense, two North Dakota National Guardsmen died that day when "enemy forces attacked their unit with an improvised explosive device."

The fallen soldiers' names are Sgt. 1st Class Darren Linde, 41, of Devils Lake, N.D., and Spc. Tyler Orgaard, 20, of Bismarck, N.D.

As I read the casualty notice on my iPhone, I thought about the agony that has been described to me by moms, dads, wives, husbands and siblings who've lost loved ones in Afghanistan or Iraq. To this day, casualty assistance officers are still knocking on the doors of military families that will never be the same.

Instead of hugging and kissing their families at a homecoming ceremony, Sgt. 1st Class Linde and Spc. Orgaard returned to American soil inside flag-draped caskets. Fellow soldiers saluted and bowed their heads during the Dec. 5 dignified transfer ceremony at Delaware's Dover Air Force Base.

During the holiday season, the Linde and Orgaard families are forced to endure the first painful weeks of an unimaginably difficult journey. As we grieve alongside the loved ones of the brave adults and precious children murdered in the tragic Connecticut elementary school massacre, let's also keep these military families, as well as loved ones of all our nation's fallen heroes, in our thoughts and prayers.

According to the North Dakota National Guard, a third soldier, Spc. Ian Placek, 23, was wounded in the Dec. 3 attack. Like thousands of fellow wounded warriors, Spc. Placek, his family and his caregivers have earned our utmost respect, appreciation, and gratitude. As Americans, we have no greater obligation than caring for the valiant men and women who fought for us.

The war in Afghanistan is happening right now. It didn't end when Navy SEALs killed Osama bin Laden or after any of the last three presidential elections. Every day, brave troops like Linde, Orgaard and Placek are patrolling through rugged, dangerous terrain, constantly threatened by enemy snipers and roadside bombs.

I recently went to see the movie "Lincoln" at a local theater. During the film, I was struck most by a scene in which the 16th president, played by Daniel Day-Lewis, rides on horseback through a Civil War battlefield while looking in anguish at countless fallen warriors. Then, to pay tribute, Lincoln removes his iconic hat.

The 19th century was obviously a much different time. But I believe 21st century America would be a better place if we all followed President Abraham Lincoln's example. We must do more to honor the extraordinary men and women who volunteer to risk their lives on post-9/11 battlefields.

Perhaps some of Lincoln's most famous words, uttered on the bloody Civil War battlefield of Gettysburg, can help reawaken our nation to the sacrifices of its heroes.

"It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion," Lincoln said on Nov. 19, 1863. "That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth."

As Lincoln's words inspire us, so should the words of Adrienne Linde, wife of fallen Sgt. 1st Class Darren Linde and mother of their four children.

"Darren gave his life so that others could pass through safely," a statement from the grieving widow said.

As the war in Afghanistan enters its 12th year, let's renew our commitment to honoring America's brave men and women in uniform. Without them, life as we know it would perish.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Images courtesy: North Dakota National Guard

Seek On

Images courtesy: Sgt. Jason Cartwright

Five months into a second stint searching for deadly roadside bombs in Afghanistan, Sgt. Jason Cartwright knows every step he takes with his trusted military working dog, Isaac, could be their last.

"There's no time to be afraid now," Sgt. Cartwright wrote to The Unknown Soldiers from Afghanistan on Dec. 8. "I pat Isaac on the chest and say 'seek on.'"

Since initially making contact with the senior Army dog handler and trainer in 2011, I have marveled at the selfless courage displayed by this married father from Alabama. Based at Missouri's Fort Leonard Wood, Cartwright willingly spends months at a time hunting for improvised explosive devices that kill and maim U.S. troops and Afghan civilians.

"As Isaac and I come to almost half of our tour, we'll still have done our job with finding three caches consisting of six jugs of homemade explosives, three jars of explosive material and two directional charges with eight pressure plates," the soldier wrote.

Isaac is a brave black Lab that looks like he's smiling in every picture the dog's handler sends me from the war zone. The fearless 4-year-old dog, which helped find 28 roadside bombs during a previous deployment that ended in 2011, has found lethal devices buried by terrorists near roads, hospitals and schools.

"Isaac and I search for over 18 hours — 800 meters of routes and compounds to only get everybody back on that chopper to leave once the mission is complete," Cartwright wrote. "That is exactly what we have done together out front taking point with all the troops behind us."

Serving with the Engineer Canine Company of the Army's 5th Engineer Battalion, Jason and Isaac have endured countless missions, including many that have came close to resulting in serious injury or death. But as soon as the inseparable pair returns to base, the two soldiers sit together to enjoy temporary moments of solitude and peace.

"Once the mission was complete, Isaac and I waited out in the open land of Afghanistan under the stars and half-lit moon," Cartwright wrote about a recent assignment.

Given his two tours in Afghanistan and previous deployment to Iraq, fellow soldiers in the war zone rely on Sgt. Cartwright's experience and leadership.

"I understand that I must teach them the way," the soldier wrote. "I train these handlers day and night so that they will be ready to face anything that gets put in their way."

Cartwright has already missed his wife and young son's birthdays, not to mention Thanksgiving, during this deployment. With frigid air and relentless assaults by American troops forcing al-Qaida and the Taliban into hiding during the winter months, Cartwright hopes to have a relatively nice, quiet Christmas on base with his beloved dog.

"The missions have slowed down since winter has come and fighting season is over," he wrote. "Yet Isaac and I are still out and away from our family and friends during the holidays."

It is a privilege to live in a free country. But as we enjoy the company of friends and family during this special time of year, I hope we'll keep in mind that brave men, women and dogs are still scouring the post-9/11 battlefields of a primitive land. I think about Jason and Isaac often, wondering what they are doing and praying they are safe.

"It is a serious and dangerous job that we do, but I've got full confidence in Isaac and the troops who have my back," Cartwright wrote.

When the air grows warmer and the enemy returns to the battlefield, Jason and Isaac will be ready once again.

"As I hear the chopper from the distance, I know it's time to begin," he wrote.

Sgt. Jason Cartwright can't wait to see his wife and child again. But unlike the 99 percent of us who don't serve in uniform, this 28-year-old American soldier ranks his personal wishes second. Whenever danger lurks beneath the dirt road ahead, Jason and Isaac always seek on. To them, nothing is more important than uncovering the next bomb.

"If I one day I shall fall, I won't regret it," the soldier wrote. "(That's) because we try to find them all."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Defender of Justice

Images courtesy: Manoukian family

Capt. Matt Manoukian could have done anything he wanted in life. Not only was he the son of two California judges, he was tough, good-looking and brilliant.

"He took care of business," his father, Judge Socrates Peter Manoukian of the Santa Clara County Superior Court, told The Unknown Soldiers.

Ever since age 7, Matt dreamed of becoming a United States Marine. He believed the Marine Corps gave him a unique chance to help protect equality and justice, which he watched his parents preserve throughout his childhood.

Matt's plans took on a sense of urgency on Sept. 11, 2001. While the high school football standout was ready to enlist the next day, an injury and a major health scare forced Matt to put his dreams on hold.

"He had two surgeries ... the first was for a knee injury," his dad said. "Then, that summer he found out he had a tumor in his spinal cord."

Matt pursued his bachelor's degree at the University of Arizona while recovering from both operations. He studied political science and rebuilt his strength, but never wavered from his ultimate goal.

"He was a good example of 'if you work hard enough, you'll get what you want,'" Matt's father said.

Matt joined the Marine Corps in 2006, and after more than a year of training, deployed to Iraq's Al Anbar Province. But even as a young Lieutenant, Matt understood that physical preparation was only one aspect of a combat deployment.

"I told him a big part of being a Marine was understanding the culture," Matt's dad said. "But he already knew that."

Matt treated Iraqi civilians with respect and began studying their language while leading his platoon on dangerous missions. He was compassionate, but also fierce and genuinely heroic.

"He had an IED (improvised explosive device) go off near him and knock him out ... it knocked everybody out," his father said.

As a fellow Marine lay bleeding, Matt refused to leave him behind.

"He put a tourniquet on this guy's leg and saved his life," Matt's dad said.

While Matt earned medals throughout his military career, he was reluctant to discuss any personal achievements. What did fill him with pride, however, was seeing clear signs of progress when he returned to Iraq a second time. Just like during his first deployment, Matt immersed himself in the local culture.

"He did that in Iraq ... he learned how to speak Arabic," Matt's dad said. "And then when he went to Afghanistan, he started doing the same thing."

Matt didn't tell his parents much about his first combat tour in Afghanistan. But when he got the opportunity to return there in 2012, he was grateful. As it would be Matt's last deployment before he traded military life for law school, the Marine wanted to use his good relationship with Afghans to help them develop a strong legal system.

"He said he wanted to finish the business, just like he did in Iraq," Matt's father said.

On Aug. 4, Matt spoke enthusiastically to the San Diego Union-Tribune about his Special Operations unit's progress in building the Afghan police force.

"You see kids running around now trying to play ALP (Afghan Local Police)," Matt told the newspaper. "So it's catching on."

Six days later, Capt. Manoukian, 29, and two fellow Marines were shot and killed by an Afghan police officer who attacked their compound.

"You always worry, and one night the Marines came to the door and told us," Matt's father said. "We miss him, and the Marines who got killed with him were also tough guys."

Matt's murder is an outrage, but his legacy endures. For the first time in the Judicial Branch of California's history, someone outside the legal profession is being honored with the Stanley Mosk Defender of Justice Award. Matt is being recognized "for his sacrifice to the cause of justice."

Almost every father is proud of his son, but it's difficult to find a prouder dad than Judge Socrates Peter Manoukian.

"He was kind to people and took care of strangers he didn't know," Matt's father said. "It was a grace and honor to have him in the family, and we miss him terribly."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Someday

Images courtesy: Karlyn Deveau

For Karlyn Deveau, Dec. 8, 2012, wasn't just another date on the calendar. It was the day she would marry her fiance, who would finally be home from Afghanistan.

"He was helping plan everything from over there," Karlyn told The Unknown Soldiers. "He was so excited about it."

As a Navy SEAL, Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 2nd Class David Warsen was often in harm's way. But when night fell in Afghanistan, the SEAL would always make time for a Skype call with Karlyn, who had usually wrapped up her night shift as a labor and delivery nurse in San Diego.

"There were maybe only three days I didn't talk to him during the entire deployment," Karlyn said. "We always found a way."

Karlyn and David found each other through an unlikely series of meetings in San Diego. After two chance encounters, David left for several months of training in Virginia. But in July 2011, once again in downtown San Diego, the future couple met a third time.

"We both knew at this point that we needed to hang out since we kept randomly running into each other," Karlyn, 26, wrote. "We went on our first date the following week and the rest is history."

Karlyn knew SEALs are some of the world's toughest men, yet was immediately struck by the genuine warmth of David's heart.

"He just loved everyone and made you feel so important," she said. "He had so much love and passion about life."

When David and Karlyn decided to get married, they understood the challenges they would later face. Like thousands of military couples, they would spend many months apart during an overseas deployment. But David always managed to stay positive, even when Karlyn could tell he wanted to come home.

"Every time we talked, he tried to be in a cheerful mood," the SEAL's fiancee said.

Almost every night, Karlyn would keep her computer screen close as she fell asleep while looking into her future husband's eyes.

"It was just so peaceful knowing that if I woke up, I could see him," she wrote about their Skype calls. "I always dreaded when I would hear his alarm going off, which sounded like a dog barking, because I knew it was time for him to head out."

Karlyn and David spoke for about an hour in the early morning hours of Aug. 16 before the SEAL left for a mission. They were supposed to talk again later that day, but the Skype call never came.

"I was freaking out a little bit," Karlyn said. "Then I found an article that said there was a helicopter crash in Afghanistan."

It can't be him, Karlyn thought. But when she learned two Navy SEALs were killed in the crash, the worried fiancee grew terrified.

"I got that sick feeling that it could be him," she said. "But I didn't want to believe it."

Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 2nd Class Warsen, 27, died in the Aug. 16 helicopter crash near Kandahar, Afghanistan, along with six fellow Americans.

"It's hard to talk about things because in my mind I don't feel like this situation is real," Karlyn said on Nov. 20. "I feel like he's going to come back."

The fallen SEAL's fiancee, who spoke in a quiet, dignified tone throughout our phone conversation, then paused.

"It's so hard to know he's not coming back," she said.

David also leaves behind his parents, brothers and grandparents.

"I'm glad that we're all together to be there for each other," Karlyn said. "It's nice, but it's hard."

David's obituary, printed in the Grand Rapids Press, contains a quote that sums up the courage of a Michigan native who refused to quit.

"Failure to David was never an option," the obituary reads.

While Dec. 8 will be filled with tears of sadness instead of joy, Karlyn and David's romance is the opposite of failure. Karlyn's road ahead is difficult, but David's love will always be inside the heart of the woman he longed to call his wife.

"I just want him to be honored like the kind person he was," Karlyn said. "I wish the whole world could have met him."

Someday, David and Karlyn will meet again.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Love Is Alive

Images courtesy: Facebook

Cpl. Todd Love's life changed in a matter of seconds.

"I don't remember an explosion," Cpl. Love, 22, told The Unknown Soldiers. "One second I'm in Afghanistan and another second I'm in Germany."

The Marine was walking in a field between two suspected enemy compounds on Oct. 25, 2010, when everything went blank.

"When I woke up in Germany, the first thing I recognized was that I wasn't in Afghanistan anymore," he said. "Then realized I stepped on an IED."

Had a British helicopter not arrived about 90 minutes after the improvised explosive device detonated, Love may have died face down in that wretched, blood-soaked field.

"It took them five minutes to find me, and when they did, my legs were already gone and my left hand was really damaged," the Marine said.

Love slipped in and out of consciousness as he was rushed to Bethesda, Md., for a series of crucial surgeries. His hand was later amputated. But even as he came to grips with his severe injuries, the brave Marine, who grew up near Marietta, Ga., never questioned his decision to follow in his father's and grandfather's footsteps by volunteering to serve.

"I was working at an Italian restaurant and wanted to do something more meaningful," Love, who joined the Marine Corps at age 18, said.

By the time he was injured, Love had already witnessed more violence than most of us will in our lifetimes.

"I've been in so many firefights ... probably close to 40," he said. "I couldn't even possibly tell you how many times I've been shot at."

Going to bed was almost always a challenge for Love during his deployment, as the young Marine's mind was filled with searing images of innocent Afghans being murdered and maimed by al-Qaida and the Taliban.

"I used to go to sleep every night with a knot in my stomach ... thinking I could die tomorrow or I may not see my family again," Love said. "Going to sleep like that every night for months is not a good way to live."

The day Love lost his legs started like any other. The young Marine was leading his platoon from point A to point B while "not taking any unnecessary risks," knowing that a firefight could erupt at any moment.

For those 90 harrowing minutes, Love lay defenseless amid gunfire from the subsequent ambush and explosive residue from the IED blast that shattered his hand and legs. While thankful that he can't remember his time in the shadow of the death, Love thinks he knows why he made it out alive.

"I probably had thousands of people praying for me, even if it's someone saying 'God, please protect our troops in Afghanistan,'" he said. "That's probably how I survived."

Most 22-year-olds are just starting to figure out their path in life. While the triple amputee knows the road ahead is filled with enormous challenges, he is determined to make the most of what he sees as borrowed time.

"I know God does things for a reason ... He's been kind of showing me that," the Marine said. "I figure if I keep toughing it out -- if I believe I'll keep getting stronger -- I (will)."

Love's courage has inspired an actor who famously portrayed a wounded warrior on screen. Gary Sinise, who has made supporting our troops a personal crusade, played a Nov. 3 benefit concert with his "Lt. Dan Band" to raise funds for state-of-the-art "smart homes" being built for Love and another wounded hero, Army Sgt. 1st Class Michael Schlitz.

The Alpharetta, Ga., charity concert, held by the Gary Sinise Foundation and Tunnel to Towers Foundation, meant the world to Love and his family.

"All the love I'm being shown from my hometown, it gives me hope not just in life but for our country," the Marine said.

Just moments after he realized his legs were gone, Cpl. Todd Love understood that life is truly a gift. Hopefully, his story will remind us to approach our lives with the same sense of gratitude.

"I was kind of overwhelmed with happiness because I realized I was going to see my family," Love continued. "I knew I was alive."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM