Upper GI George
by pessimist
Family 'thanks' Bush for death of son
THOMPSON -- In Geauga County, anger and frustration over the death of a young soldier inside Iraq has prompted one family to send a personal message to President Bush. Ken and Betty Landrus have put up a large sign outside their home near Thompson, Ohio that is sharply critical of the Bush administration.
They believe the president misled the country about the reasons for invading Iraq and that their son died for nothing. "Yes I do feel lied to because they kept saying there’s mass destruction and nobody’s found anything yet," father Ken Landrus said.Their son, Staff Sgt. Sean Landrus was killed near Fallujah in January. Sean Landrus also left behind a wife and three young children. His youngest daughter, Kennedy, was born just before Sean left to serve inside Iraq.
Thanks, Dumbya. Thanks a lot. Thanks a thousand - and counting.
It's no wonder you avoid the families of the slain, for reading these family comments, and the short bios of those who died for your lies, tears my heart out.
To Whom it May Concern
By Brooke M. Campbell
t r u t h o u t | Letter
Friday 03 September 2004
Kirksville, Missouri - A soldier from northeast Missouri was among eight killed April 29, 2004, in a car bombing in Iraq, the U.S. Department of Defense said Monday. Sergeant Ryan M. Campbell, 25, of Kirksville, was a member of the Army's 4th Battalion, 27th Field Artillery Regiment, 1st Armored Division. The soldiers were removing roadside bombs from a highway south of Baghdad.Campbell's mother, Mary Ann MacCombie of Kirksville, said the unit intercepted a station wagon crammed with 500 pounds of ammunition, and the driver detonated an explosive. Campbell was stationed in Germany before he was sent to Iraq. He originally had been expected to return to the United States in April, but his duty in Iraq was extended three months. "He's supposed to be home now," said MacCombie, recalling that her son called twice Wednesday, a day before he died. "His last words were, 'I'll be back in July.'"
MacCombie said Campbell was an avid outdoorsman and a talented drummer who tried to assemble a band during his time in Germany. He graduated from Truman State University in Kirksville and planned to attend graduate school after completing his military service.
Other soldiers killed in the attack were:
Staff Sergeant Esau G. Patterson Jr., 25, of Ridgeland, South Carolina;
Staff Sergeant Jeffrey F. Dayton, 27, of Caledonia, Mississippi;
Specialist James L. Beckstrand, 27, of Escondido, California;
Specialist Justin B. Schmidt, 23, of Bradenton, Florida;
Private First Class Ryan E. Reed, 20, of Colorado Springs, Colorado;
Private First Class Norman Darling, 29, of Middleboro, Massachusetts; and
Private First Class Jeremy Ricardo Ewing, 22, of Miami, Florida.
Sgt. Campbell requested that, if something happened to him, his family place this photo on his coffin.
To Whom it May Concern,I found out that my brother, Sergeant Ryan M. Campbell, was dead during a graduate seminar at Emory University on April 29, 2004. Immediately after a uniformed officer knocked at my mother's door to deliver the message that broke her heart, she called me on my cell phone. She could say nothing but "He's gone." I could say nothing but "No." Over and over again we chanted this refrain to each other over the phone as I made my way across the country to hold her as she wept. I had made the very same trip in February, cutting classes to spend my brother's two weeks' leave from Baghdad with him. Little did I know then that the next time I saw him would be at Arlington National Cemetery.
I last saw my loved one at the Kansas City airport, staring after me as I walked away. I could see April 29 written on his sad, sand-chapped and sunburned face. I could see that he desperately wanted to believe that if he died, it would be while "doing good," as you put it. He wanted us to be able to be proud of him.
During those days in February, my brother shared with me his fear, his disillusionment, and his anger. "We had all been led to believe that Iraq posed a serious threat to America as well as its surrounding nations," he said. "We invaded expecting to find weapons of mass destruction and a much more prepared and well-trained Republican Guard waiting for us. It is now a year later, and alas, no weapons of mass destruction or any other real threat, for that matter."
Ryan was scheduled to complete his one-year assignment to Iraq on April 25. But on April 11, he emailed me to let me know not to expect him in Atlanta for a May visit, because his tour of duty had been involuntarily extended. "Just do me one big favor, ok?" he wrote. "Don't vote for Bush. No. Just don't do it. I would not be happy with you."
Last night, I listened to George W. Bush's live, televised speech at the Republican National Convention. He spoke to me and my family when he announced, "I have met with parents and wives and husbands who have received a folded flag, and said a final goodbye to a soldier they loved. I am awed that so many have used those meetings to say that I am in their prayers and to offer encouragement to me. Where does strength like that come from? How can people so burdened with sorrow also feel such pride? It is because they know their loved one was last seen doing good. Because they know that liberty was precious to the one they lost. And in those military families, I have seen the character of a great nation: decent, and idealistic, and strong."
This is my reply: Mr. President, I know that you probably still "don't do body counts," so you may not know that almost one thousand U.S. troops have died doing what you told them they had to do to protect America. Ryan was Number 832. Liberty was, indeed, precious to the one I lost-- so precious that he would rather have gone to prison than back to Iraq in February. Like you, I don't know where the strength for "such pride" on the part of people "so burdened with sorrow" comes from; maybe I spent it all holding my mother as she wept.
Mr. President, you gave me and my mother a folded flag instead of the beautiful boy who called us "Moms" and "Brookster." But worse than that, you sold my little brother a bill of goods. Not only did you cheat him of a long meaningful life, but you cheated him of a meaningful death.
You are in my prayers, Mr. President, because I think that you need them more than anyone on the face of the planet. But you will never get my vote.So to whom it may concern: Don't vote for Bush. No. Just don't do it. I would not be happy with you.
Sincerely,
Brooke M. Campbell
Atlanta, GA
I am mad. Mad that despite all the news stories like this one, people still believe that usurping deserter in the White house is doing the right thing, not only in Iraq, but in everything he touches. The believe every word that he and his lying cabal utter, and yet how much of the evidence actually points toward those accusers?
And how can we continue to allow a deserter to conduct military affairs in this nation? You veterans had the most scathing things to say about Bill Clinton's draft dodging. Is not Bu$h worse, for he joined you and then cut out on you? How can you continue to take orders from someone who refused to follow them???
Bid cited to boost Bush in Guard
Jim Dyke, a spokesman for the Republican National Committee, dismissed McAuliffe's comments as "false," "reckless," and "silly." The White House made no such characterizations of the four pages of documents written by Killian, whom Bush described as a friend in his 1999 autobiography, A Charge to Keep.Dated during the controversial final 17 months of Bush's assignment to Ellington Air Force Base in Houston, the four pages begin with Killian's written order dated May 4, 1972, for Bush to report 10 days later for an annual flight physical required of all pilots. The Aug. 1, 1972, document removing Bush from flight status for "failure to perform to USAF/TexANG [US Air Force and Texas Air National Guard] standards" and failing to take the flight physical suggests that Bush did not comply with Killian's May order.
The August document also calls for the convening of a "flight review board" that would have assessed Bush's status. There is no record that such a board was appointed. In that memo, Killian also recommended that the unit he commanded, the 111th Fighter Interceptor Squadron, replace Bush as a pilot with someone from a waiting list of pilots who had served in Vietnam.
The Aug. 18, 1973, memo might draw the most attention from the White House. Another "Memo to File," it starts, "SUBJECT: CYA" -- a venerable military acronym for "cover your ass." General Staudt, it begins, "has obviously pressured [Colonel Bobby W.] Hodges more about Bush. I'm having trouble running interference and doing my job." He wrote that Lieutenant Colonel Harris "gave me a message today . . . regarding Bush's [annual officer efficiency report] and Staudt is pushing to sugar coat it." But, Killian wrote, "Bush wasn't here during the rating period," and he didn't have any "feedback" from the unit with whom Bush said he trained in Alabama. "I will not rate," Killian wrote.
In the CBS news magazine report, Robert Strong, a friend of Killian who ran the Texas Air National Guard administrative offices during the Vietnam era and who reviewed the documents for "60 Minutes," said he believed that Killian took his responsibilities as a pilot very seriously, but that in Bush's case, Killian found himself "between a rock and a hard place."
In trying to satisfy commands from a superior to give a favorable evaluation to a soldier who had underperformed but had powerful political connections, Strong said Killian faced an impossible situation.
An 'impossible situation' caused by an posing frat boy imposter in a flight suit! How well is this going to go down with those whose loved ones were sent to their deaths by this braggart coward?
Their faces, smiling or solemn, are all too familiar in our newspapers and on television. Their names sound a somber roll call — Smith, Falaniko, Ramos, Lee — a roster that seems to grow daily. The troops lost are sons and daughters from city streets and rural hamlets. They are teens who went from senior proms to boot camp and battle, and middle-aged family men who put aside retirement and grandchildren for the dangers of a war zone.The fallen are an American mosaic. The youngest was 18. The oldest, 59. Of those who have died, 97 percent were men; about two dozen were women. While more than 600 were white, others were black, Latino, Asian and American Indian. There were kids who had never fired a shot at an enemy, and veterans of Desert Storm, Bosnia, Kosovo — even Vietnam.
They hailed from the urban bustle of Chicago, New York and Houston, as well as the cornfields of Silvana, Wash., and the coal mine country of Varney, W.Va. — and from every state but Alaska. They represented U.S. territories, and more than three dozen were born in foreign countries, including Thailand, India and Poland.
While many had been naturalized, at least 10 died reaching for their vision of the American dream: to become U.S. citizens. Army Pfc. Diego Rincon, a native of Colombia, was among them. After he was killed in a suicide bombing, his father, Jorge, lobbied Congress, which passed legislation giving posthumous citizenship to his 19-year-old son and other foreign-born soldiers killed in battle. The Rincon house in Conyers, Ga., is filled with memories of Diego: His uniform is spread out on his bed, his framed citizenship papers are on the wall. Diego Rincon was cremated, but he has not been laid to rest. His family isn’t ready for the final goodbye. "One day when I’m old," his father said, "I’m going to bury him in Arlington. But not now. Not right now."
Jose Gutierrez grew up an orphan in Guatemala, crossed the border illegally, obtained a visa, graduated from high school and eventually became a Marine. At age 28, the lance corporal was buried in his native land, a U.S. flag on his casket. In a poem called "Letter to God," Gutierrez once wrote: "Thank you for what I have ... for my dreams that don’t die."
(The Iraq war also has claimed the lives of more than 120 foreign troops who were part of the U.S.- led coalition; about half were in the British military. About 135 Americans have died in anti- terrorism operations in Afghanistan, Pakistan and other countries.)
Although most — more than 700 — were in the Army, Americans who have died in the Iraq war wore the uniforms of every branch of service. Among them was the first Coast Guardsman to die in combat since Vietnam. About 80 percent were in the active-duty military, the remainder in Guard and Reserve units.
About 70 percent were killed in action, and there were more than 160 accidental deaths, many involving vehicles.Yet numbers are only part of the story. Those who died were as different as they were the same: There were homecoming kings and class presidents, Scout leaders and Little League coaches. A young man from a big-city housing project who put a hip-hop beat to Amazing Grace on the bus to church camp. A lawyer fascinated with tanks. An Army specialist nicknamed "Ketchup" who would sneak food to Iraqi children.
There was Trevor Spink, a 36-year-old staff sergeant on his third tour in Iraq. His steady, confident gaze was once the face on Marine recruitment posters. Now, his mother has decided, that portrait will adorn his tombstone.
There was Army pilot Aaron Weaver, 32, who had survived cancer and a rocket attack in the 1993 battle of Mogadishu, Somalia, recounted in Black Hawk Down. The Bronze Star recipient and father of a baby girl was so determined to go to Iraq, he secured special medical clearance so he could fly. "Nobody wants to leave their buddies behind," said his father, Mike Weaver. "Being an Army Ranger — it’s a close-knit family."
So many were so very young, men and women just beginning lives filled with promise.
Marine Lance Cpl. Aaron Austin, 21, proposed to fiancée Tiffany Frank by telephone from Iraq. They set a wedding date, Dec. 11. "We had the church reserved, the pastor reserved, the reception hall reserved," Tiffany said. "Now I can only dream about what we would have had."
Roger Rowe already had everything he wanted: a 34-year marriage to his childhood friend, four children and seven grandchildren who called him "Papa." Still, at 54, the Vietnam veteran had no hesitation about serving in Iraq as part of the Tennessee National Guard. "He said, ‘What a lifetime experience this will be to be able to help that country,’" remembered his widow, Shirley. "He was always an optimist."
Others saw the military as a steppingstone: a way to save money for college, buy a first home, broaden horizons — or build a career.
James Adamouski, a 29-year-old Army captain, already had served in Bosnia and Kosovo and had many accomplishments: He was a West Point graduate and former semiprofessional soccer player in Germany. He also was about to start Harvard Business School, and had his eye on politics. During a Memorial Day visit to the White House last year, his father, Frank Adamouski, spoke briefly with President Bush about what might have been. "I always knew I was going to have breakfast in the White House," he recalled saying. "But I always thought my son was going to be president when I did."
Army Pfc. Jesse Buryj had his own plans — to become a Canton, Ohio, police officer. He enlisted because he was too young to join the force. The 21-year-old newlywed died a hero, credited with saving fellow soldiers when he fired more than 400 rounds at a dump truck attempting to crash a checkpoint.
"I know he went out in a blaze of glory," said his mother, Peggy. "They say he showed no fear and gave no ground."
Some bitter over loss
Others expressed bitterness over the loss of loved ones in a war they consider unjustified. "It just rubbed salt in the wound to hear them talk about, well, maybe they didn’t have all the information, maybe the intelligence was faulty," said Oliva Smith, whose 41-year-old husband, Bruce, was killed when a missile brought down his helicopter.There is another void almost too great to fathom: More than 500 sons and daughters have been left without a father, and at least five boys and girls lost their mothers. About two dozen soldiers had wives who were pregnant, men like 23-year-old Michael Dooley — who had picked a name, Shea, from afar for his first child. His widow, Christine, now takes Shea to the mausoleum where Dooley rests, presses her daughter’s hand to her own lips and then to the wall of the crypt, telling her: "That’s the way we kiss Daddy."
These 1,000 men and women are home again, their war over. More than half had not seen their 30th birthday, according to an Associated Press analysis of Department of Defense statistics for those who have died since the war started March 19, 2003. The conflict in Iraq has claimed almost three times the number of Americans lost in the Persian Gulf War. And this time, the vast majority of U.S. deaths — all but 138 — came after major combat operations were declared over. "Mission Accomplished," read a banner on the aircraft carrier where President Bush spoke May 1, 2003.
Back home, there is another growing count: towns that lost future firefighters and police officers, churches left without Sunday school teachers, families where infants will never meet their dads. "It’s almost like losing a community," said Luis Pizzini, an educator in San Diego, Texas. Two of his former students have died in Iraq. Ruben Valdez, 21, and Jose Amancio Perez, 22, grew up on the same block. Now, the two men are buried a few feet apart.
What they share is that they will not see home again.
Families want their kids back home
Some didn’t get the chance to see children one last time
The flag-draped coffin of Sgt. Patrick McCaffrey of Tracy is carried from a plane at Sacramento International Airport on June 29. McCaffrey was killed June 22 in an ambush by insurgents near Balad, Iraq.
- ROBERT DURELL/LOS ANGELES TIMES
Some Central Valley mothers and fathers of soldiers have mixed feelings of patriotism and disillusionment over the Iraq war. With the number of dead U.S. soldiers passing 1,000 on Tuesday, they just want all the soldiers to come home.Ruth Lau of Livingston didn’t get the chance to see her daughter. Army Pfc. Karina Lau, 20, died Nov. 2, 2003, when enemy fire brought down the Chinook helicopter taking her to an airport for her flight home. Lau said it’s been hard to deal with the loss of her daughter, but it’s more difficult, she said, to think of the other mothers who have to deal with the same kind of loss. "It’s not fair for all those young people fighting over there," Lau said in Spanish. "There’s no reason for them to die over there."
She said her family is still proud of her daughter’s service, but has grown disillusioned with the war. Lau said grief and mourning have kept her from returning to work at a fruit cannery in Atwater, and she still reads letters her daughter sent from Iraq. She said parents of soldiers in Iraq should do their best to keep in touch with them. "They should pray a lot for them, because it’s ugly over there," Lau said.
Darlene Davey of Atwater said she can’t imagine what it would feel like to get news of her stepson’s death in Iraq. She said it was hard enough to hear he was injured while serving there. Marine Lance Cpl. Joshua Davey, 19, was wounded April 20 when the Humvee he was driving hit a land mine. His stepmother said he suffered a broken neck, bruised internal organs and had a finger amputated.
Davey said she supports the troops, but wants to see them leave Iraq as soon as possible. "We need to start putting some of our politics aside and we need to get our soldiers out of there," Davey said. "Our boys need to come home; a thousand is a thousand too many."
She said her son has recovered from his injuries and is scheduled to return to Iraq with his unit in February. She said she prays that U.S. forces are withdrawn from Iraq by then. "It just doesn’t seem like we’re doing what we were sent to do," Davey said. "It’s just not worth it; he’s too precious."
Lupe Duarte of Modesto feels the same way about her son, Army Spc. Matthew Duarte. She considers herself a very patriotic person and supports the troops, but has ambivalent feelings about the war. "What are we sacrificing our boys for? Their lives haven’t even begun," Duarte said. "I just wish that this war would end. We don’t belong there."
Matthew Duarte, 23, is at Fort Hood, Texas, pending a return to Iraq with his unit for a second tour of duty. She speaks to her son often and said he is reluctant about returning to the desert combat zone. "He’s just waiting for the ax to fall, because he doesn’t want to go back," Duarte said. "He said, ‘I didn’t think I would make it back the first time. This time, I don’t think I’ll come back.’"
Matthew’s father, David, said it saddens him to think what his son is facing, because he went through the same disillusionment fighting in the Vietnam War. He said he is disgusted every time he hears that the soldier death count in Iraq has grown. He said it reminds him of the countless friends he lost in Vietnam. "It doesn’t make sense to me," Duarte said of the U.S. military presence in Iraq. "I fail to see the rhyme or reason to do what we’re doing over there."
Midstate families of 2 slain servicemen question the cost
News that the U.S. military dead in Iraq had hit 1,000 was daunting for two Middle Tennessee women whose loved ones are among that number.Shirley Rowe of Bon Aqua lost her husband, Sgt. Roger D. Rowe, 1174th Transportation Company, Tennessee National Guard. He was killed by a sniper July 9, 2003, about 15 miles south of Baghdad. "I heard we had gotten to the 1,000 point, and it hit hard," she said. "I know we're over there to do a job, but at what cost?
"It's just so unfortunate. It just kills me for the real young ones that haven't gotten to live their lives. My heart goes out to all the families who have lost a loved one. They're in my prayers all the time. Not a night goes by that I don't pray for everybody over there."
Ruby Savage of Livingston lost her grandson, Marine Lance Cpl. Jeremiah E. Savage, 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment. He was killed near Fallujah on May 12, 2004. "I'll tell you how I feel. I'm mad, just plain mad," she said. "We're ready for them all to come home, and not in a box, either. I don't know how much higher it will go. I can't tell, but it's senseless. It hurts."
It has been demonstrated that married women are more likely to be registered Republicans, and married mothers are even more likely to be so. Assuming this is true, I address this question to you:
Are you going to vote for a man - one who refused to go to war himself - who is willing to kill your children to avoid admitting a lie?
Copyrighted source material contained in this article is presented under the provisions of Fair Use.
FAIR USE NOTICE
This article contains copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. I am making such material available in my efforts to advance understanding of democracy, economic, environmental, human rights, political, scientific, and social justice issues, among others. I believe this constitutes a 'fair use' of any such copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, the material in this article is distributed without profit for research and educational purposes.