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Authors: Michael Pitre

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Fives and Twenty-Fives (41 page)

BOOK: Fives and Twenty-Fives
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Command Investigation, Enclosure
2
:

Transcription of interview with Corporal Walter Zahn

IO: Did you see the missile impact the helicopter?

Cpl Zahn: Yes, sir.

IO: What were you doing at the time?

Cpl Zahn: I was breaking up a fight, sir.

IO: Who was fighting?

Cpl Zahn: Our terp and the lieutenant, sir.

IO: Why?

Cpl Zahn: Sir, all due respect . . . (inaudible) . . . They had a disagreement about a traffic accident, sir.

IO: What happened after you witnessed the helicopter crash?

Cpl Zahn: Well, they stopped arguing. All four of us were stunned for a second, watching it go down. Then the lieutenant grabbed me by the flak jacket and pointed to this bare patch of desert off the side of the highway. He told me to take a few Marines over there and set security. Like we would need it for a landing zone.

IO: And did you?

Cpl Zahn: Yes, sir. I did. I went running out there with Sergeant Gomez and a few others. The next time I saw the lieutenant he was running over with Doc Pleasant, and the Huey was landing.

IO: And you boarded the helicopter?

Cpl Zahn: Yes, sir. The lieutenant, the terp, Doc Pleasant, Sergeant Gomez, and myself.

 

 

Command Investigation, Enclosure 3:

Transcription of interview with “Dodge,” coalition-employed local national

IO: Why did Lieutenant Donovan take you?

“Dodge”: Did you ask him, man?

IO: Yes, but I’d like to hear your recollection.

“Dodge”: He said he might need me because the helicopter wreck was in this sort of neighborhood. Like in a garden of a big house. He said he might need me to talk to the family in the house.

IO: When you reached the site of the crash, did you talk to the occupants?

“Dodge”: Yes.

IO: What did you tell them?

“Dodge”: I told them to run.

IO: With the house emptied, what further tasking did you receive?

“Dodge”: They gave me a gun.

IO: And did you fire the weapon?

“Dodge”: (inaudible)

IO: I didn’t hear you. Could you say that again?

“Dodge”: Yes. I fired the weapon.

 

Command Investigation, Enclosure 4:

Transcription of interview with Hospitalman Lester Pleasant

IO: Where were you when Sergeant Gomez was hit?

HM Pleasant: She was standing up, returning fire over the wall. I was on the ground with the lieutenant, trying to work on the wound to his face while he talked on the radio.

IO: Again, where were you?

HM Pleasant: Just underneath her, sir. Like I say, I felt her weight on me, is all. She just slumped over and fell onto my back. There was so much fire, so many rounds going by and cracking against that wall, I didn’t hear the shot that got to her. I thought she’d lost her footing and slipped. So, I asked if she was okay. But then I felt her blood on my neck. You know? Running down into my flak jacket.

IO: What did you do?

HM Pleasant: After I knew she was hit?

IO: Yes.

HM Pleasant: I set her down next to the lieutenant. I saw that she’d taken a round to the head, so I kept the helmet on her and started compressions. I didn’t look up, sir. Just kept up with the compressions, trying to bring her around. Didn’t hear the fire taper off. Didn’t hear the helicopter land, either. Didn’t hear nothing until the flight medic pulled me off her.

 

Command Investigation, Enclosure
5
:

Personnel Casualty Report, case of Sergeant Michelle Gomez

Immediate to Commandant Marine Corps, Washington, DC

Info others as appropriate

Classified

1
. Sgt/Michelle/Luz/Gomez/-

2
. USMC, active duty combat injury

3
. Gunshot wound to the head

4
.
1815
/Ramadi, Iraq

5
. Penetration of the skull by .
762
caliber rifle round resulting in the loss of up to
40
% of patient’s brain matter. Immediate aid, rendered by combat medical personnel on-site, sustained respiration and circulation until patient could be evacuated to field resuscitation unit. Stabilization at surgical shock trauma hospital followed, with follow-on evacuation to Germany and CONUS. Patient retains very little cognitive function and voluntary muscle control. Will require lifelong care and full disability.

6
. Prior to deployment, said named Marine requested official notification go to next of kin, Denise Gomez, sister, Dallas, Texas.

 

Command Investigation, Enclosure
6
:

Bronze Star Medal, with Combat Distinguishing Device, case of Second Lieutenant Donovan

For heroism in combat during Operation Iraqi Freedom. While leading a combat logistics patrol through Ramadi, Lieutenant Donovan and the Marines under his command observed an enemy surface-to-air missile attack on a coalition helicopter engaged in airborne over-watch of his convoy’s position near the Euphrates River Bridge. Fatally damaged, the helicopter crashed into a nearby, residential section of the city. Recognizing that the quick reaction force dispatched from Hurricane Point would be at least an hour away, Lieutenant Donovan knew that his platoon was the only coalition unit in a position to affect rescue of the downed pilots. Without hesitation, Lieutenant Donovan radioed the second helicopter in the over-watch flight and created a field expedient landing zone. When the surviving helicopter of the Profane Two-Four flight landed, Lieutenant Donovan coordinated with the pilots and crew chief, volunteering to insert on the crash site with a small team in order to mount a last-ditch defense, holding the crash site long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Without waiting for approval from higher command, Lieutenant Donovan boarded the UH-1 Huey with two other Marines, a Navy corpsman, and an Iraqi-national interpreter. Lieutenant Donovan surveyed the wreckage of the downed helicopter from the air and inserted as close to the crash site as the Huey could safely land. His ad hoc fire team encountered organized enemy opposition at once as they moved to secure the aircraft wreckage and pilots. After fighting their way to the crash site through coordinated small-arms fire, Lieutenant Donovan and his Marines set security while their corpsman and their Iraqi interpreter extracted the pilots from the helicopter wreckage. Finding that both pilots had died on impact, Lieutenant Donovan deployed his team on the courtyard walls of the home where the wrecked helicopter had come to rest and committed to defend the helicopter wreckage and the remains of his fellow Marines at all costs. Over the next two hours, Lieutenant Donovan led his Marines in a gallant defense of the crash site. While a sustained enemy assault materialized on all sides, Lieutenant Donovan and his Marines ably held their position even as their ammunition began to run low. The enemy, sensing a chance to kill or capture a small, isolated group of Americans, committed all his resources to the attack. Hasty barricades of burning tires and wrecked cars, as well as ambushes and improvised explosive devices, blocked the Marines fighting through the city to relieve him. Lieutenant Donovan’s leadership and courage under fire enabled his Marines to hold the crash site. He directed numerous strafing runs against enemy positions, and though wounded by bullet fragments from an enemy sniper round impacting near him, he remained actively engaged in the defense of the site until reinforcements arrived. Lieutenant Donovan’s courage, initiative, perseverance, and total dedication to duty reflected a great credit upon himself, the Marine Corps, and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.

You are hereby detached for terminal leave for a period of ­twenty-one (21) days
. You are directed and required to remain in contact with your parent command until that time, and a hard copy of
your DD214 will be sent to your home of
record in Birmingham, Alabama. Report to Personnel Administration Center, Camp Pendleton, California, no later than 2359, 30 October,
for processing.

A Gentleman Stands

Denise Gomez has a room in the back of her small house with a special bed, and equipment to make sure her sister doesn’t choke.

“The VA sends a physical therapist over once a week,” Denise tells me. “Michelle is a tough girl, but you already know that. She’s making good progress, too. Real good progress.” Denise touches the hair on her sister’s forehead. “I can tell she’s real glad to see you. She brightened right up the minute you walked through the door. Just so happy to see her old lieutenant. Isn’t that right, Sis?”

I smile and nod. “I’m really glad to see her, too. Both of you. You’ve been great hosts.”

I arrived in the midmorning after driving most of the night and catching a few hours of sleep in my car. Denise greeted me with a cup of coffee and a hug. I was bracing myself for some level of blame or hatred, but it was nothing like that. This woman is all love. The hospitality didn’t ebb as we walked back to Michelle’s room. She even spared me the requisite speech about Michelle’s condition, and the admonitions to prepare myself.

The first thing I noticed was Michelle’s hair. I’d never seen it out of its tight bun, and the length of it shocked me.

Denise laughed. “Bet you never knew she was so girlie.”

I noticed the tattoos on Michelle’s forearms, next. The songbirds and the snakes chasing after them had withered and faded with her atrophied arms and no longer seemed to belong to her.

After a couple of hours, it felt as though I’d submerged myself into the quiet of this house. We sit and talk while Denise paints Michelle’s fingernails and rubs her feet. It seems, at times, like she’s looking at me and managing to focus. The spark of recognition I’d allowed myself to hope for, that never comes. But neither does the shadow of pain and despair that I’d feared. She moans from time to time when she wants her position shifted, and when Denise turns her, Michelle’s long, black hair falls away to reveal a dent in her forehead where the skull is missing.

“I should be going,” I finally say to Denise as the sun sets. “Long drive.”

“Well, it was so nice to have you!” she says, getting up to hug me. With her arms wrapped around my neck she whispers, “You are always so welcome here. You know that, right?”

“I know,” I try to say, but swallow the words when I realize I can’t speak without embarrassing both of us.

When Denise releases me, I walk to Gomez’s bed and take her hand. She doesn’t move. “Sergeant,” I say, with as level a voice as I can manage, before I turn to leave.

I drive around the corner, and about a mile down the road, before I put the car in park and let myself go. I want no possibility of Denise Gomez seeing me do this. Though I have no right, I rest my head on the steering wheel for what must be an hour. It’s fully dark by the time I manage to compose myself.

 

They gave me a medal for valor.

Major Leighton pinned it on my chest when the company returned home to Camp Pendleton. After the ceremony in his office, Major Leighton gave me the floor and asked that I make some brief remarks. I thanked everyone for being there. I thanked my fellow lieutenants Cobb and Wong for their support through the long deployment. I thanked the major for his faith in me. I didn’t say a word about Gomez, and neither did anyone else.

My separation orders were processed a week later, so soon after the battalion arrived home that I didn’t even bother to retrieve my things from the storage unit where they’d spent the better part of a year. I just filled out the paperwork to have the boxes shipped directly to my home of record in Birmingham and accepted the invitation to sleep on Cobb’s floor.

Things changed with Cobb, Wong, and the rest the lieutenants after Ramadi. They were different around me. Deferent almost, which I never understood. Cobb, in particular. Or maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was me. Maybe I was different.

I felt like it would’ve been rude to decline Cobb’s offer. For a week, we stayed up late, watched movies and bad television, and didn’t say much to each other. We didn’t become friends and knew we never would, but I could hardly remember what I disliked about the guy.

On my last night of active duty, Cobb drove me to the San Diego airport to catch my flight home to Alabama. I had no plans for my month of terminal leave, beyond an uninterrupted week of sleep on my sister’s couch.

As I stepped from Cobb’s jeep with a duffel over my shoulder, he reached over to shake my hand and wish me well. “Glad you were around. Good luck, Pete.”

Unprepared for his sincerity, I muttered something incoherent before recovering my wits and offering a curt “Thanks. You, too.”

A flood of nostalgia swallowed me up as his taillights passed out of sight, and I realized with a start that my last true moments as a Marine had slipped away. I was alone, quite suddenly, with just the stories. The truth had driven off with Cobb.

BOOK: Fives and Twenty-Fives
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