Setting on the small commuter jet leaving Louisville and headed toward a connection in Atlanta, I was fortunate to sit next to an active duty Command Sergeant Major. Setting two rows ahead of me was another gentleman and his wife, who the world knew as Mrs. Mohammed Ali. The Champ looked good for all his challenges and while I was not a big fan of his politics I did appreciate that he was a Louisville icon and was doing good things for those less fortunate through his charity work.
Sitting two rolls behind me was somebody else I knew, the husband of a co-worker who was on his way back to Afghanistan where he was in the middle of a fourth tour in combat. Three tours in Iraq, where I knew he had survived several near-misses with Improvised Explosive Devices (IED) and had been treated for post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and seemed to be fine. His posture and composure was that of a solid performer, a soldier and a leader. I hope my son has a staff sergeant like that in the Marines.
The sergeant major and I quickly figured out that we had a number of common friends still serving, and we shared experiences and friendships that spanned the nearly forty year time span and lifetimes. He had been to Iraq twice and as an infantry soldier and leader and told me that he had some of his best times and his worst times that looking back were only seconds or minutes long, but were framed in his mind. So here I was, with two soldiers, who between them had six years of combat, both in the business of being directly involved in the business of war, and both clearly proud of what they were doing.
But what I remember most was a story that the sergeant major told me, and one that I wanted to share with you.
One of his units was tracking down a high value individual and knew he was in a particular three-story house. Because there was a real danger he was going to get away, the on the ground commander, a 1LT, sent teams into the building to secure the individual. Sgt Martinez led a four or five man squad into the dark building and following the rules of engagement, shouted out that they were Americans. The ten or so insurgents were not to be persuaded to surrender peacefully, but reacted with a hail of gunfire.
Advancing up the stairs, twenty-three year old Martinez leading, began a running gun battle. Firing up the stairway, the return fire was deafening, and the young men pressed themselves into the outside wall, and continued to fire back up the darkened stairwell. Somewhere between the first and second floor, a grenade bounced off of Martinez chest and rolled on the floor. “Grenade” he shouted and the squad instinctively curled away from the impending blast. The grenade went off, and Martinez received shrapnel wounds too as did some of the squad, but the whole team continued pressing up the stairs returning fire.
A bullet hit Martinez and bounced into his neck. American engineering saved his life again, the neck protector worked, deflecting the round. Martinez and his team continued to move up and ultimately all eight insurgents were killed rather than give up.
So why tell a “war story” that I didn’t see? Because we need to be constantly reminded that the young man or woman we see in the airport in uniform may very well be on their way back to Afghanistan, for a fourth time. Their courage is beyond remarkable, and their dedication to what is being attempted in these lands lost in time have to be remembered.
The war may be off the front pages of America’s newspapers, but it is not off the front page of the families who wait, who still proudly display the flag on their house and who wear a blue star on their lapel. We owe them our respect, and our continued admiration and support.
The other point is that these teams of soldiers were all volunteers, and every one of them joined the military knowing that America was at war, and that they would undoubtedly be asked to serve in harm’s way.
So in the front was an American icon in a former heavyweight champ of the world, my thoughts were with a young man named Martinez, who earned the Silver Star that day, and to the young engineer Staff Sergeant on his way to Afghanistan sitting two rows behind me.
We have more soldiers in combat right now than we had two years ago during the “surge” and recently several fellow non-profit organizations ended their run and sent their clients to USA Cares. Times are changing, but one thing is not, just like those who go up darkened stairways without knowing, USA Cares will continue to be here for those who serve and for those who wait, it isn’t about “how long” we will be here, it is “how long are we needed?”.
Roger Stradley
San Dimas, CA
10 Sep 09
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