THE COST OF WAR: HONOR BRACELETS

This month marks the end of an era where the United States, its Allies and Partners are no longer engaged in Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) and Iraqi Freedom Freedom (OIF) since the shock of the 9/11 terrorists attacks. Two conflicts after 13 years have left their mark on the veterans who served and the millions of Afghans and Iraqis that endured the trauma of war. While the mission in Afghanistan transitions to an “Advise and Assist” mission and the nation is now engaged in Operation Inherent Resolve against the Deash extremists in Iraq and Syria, for me this marks a personal transition point.

My experience is not unique. I have only served on two combat deployments, once each in Iraq and Afghanistan, while many others served 3, 4, 5 or more deployments in both locations. Like others, I have lost a family member and many more friends. Additionally, I have known good Iraqis who are now either living in danger or are dead after Deash elements swept through Iraq. The hardest part is examining the past 13 years and remembering the sacrifice of the fallen. Up to this point, I have only worn one honor bracelet knowing someday that I would get a more permanent one with the names of the others I’ve known lost. This is because I feared that day when these wars were over and I would have to confront the reality of the cost of war. For me, the cost of OEF and OIF is 12 that I personally knew:

· Specialist Joseph Lister, US Army — November 20, 2004 (OIF)

· Staff Sergeant Edward W. Carmen, US Army — April 7, 2004 (OIF)

· Captain Humayun Khan, US Army — June 8, 2004 (OIF)

· Sergeant Anthony Kalladeen, US Army– August 8, 2005 (OIF)

· Captain Robert Bager, US Army — September 21, 2005 (Germany/Accident)

· Captain Jason West, US Army– July 24, 2006 (OIF)

· Specialist Vincente Pomante, US Army– December 6, 2006 (OIF)

· Captain Travis Patriquin, US Army– December 6, 2006 (OIF)

· Major Megan McClung, US Marine Corps– December 6, 2006 (OIF)

· Captain Rowdy Inman, US Army– December 26, 2007 (OIF)

· Captain Brian Bunting, US Army– February 24, 2009 (OEF)

· Major Thomas E. Kennedy, US Army — August 8, 2012 (OEF)

This posting is not about me but more importantly, it is about the memories I have of these individuals and the pleasure I had of knowing them for the brief moment they graced this earth with their humor, wisdom, compassion, and patriotism. This posting is not about seeking pity. It is my attempt to tell the stories I have of them to ensure their memories endure and that their sacrifices not forgotten. In fact, I rarely ever talk about this to my family or even other friends. Recently, a friend asked me an innocent question about the bracelet I wear by asking me if I had researched the person I was honoring. I simply told him that I didn’t need to research the person because I knew the individual very well and then I went on to explain. Afterwards, he wanted to apologies for bringing up the issue and I told him there was no need. I told him I simply avoid bringing up the issue because I feared people would show pity (which I do not seek) or show me some sort of special treatment (again, something I do not seek). Now with the end of OEF, I simply want to share a brief overview of my stories of these great individuals.

FIRST TANK!

Rather than go completely chronological, I will share their stories thematically within the context of my experience with these individuals. For me, the story starts in Korea where I was assigned from 2001–2003. Prior to arriving in Korea, the world was relatively calm and I volunteered to go to Korea because it was considered “Freedom’s Frontier” as the last bastion of the Cold War and I thought it would be more exciting than doing a state-side tour or a deployment to Kosovo. I arrived in Korea only a few months before the tragic events of September the 11th, an event which would forever change our nation and my generation of veterans. It is also where I would have the privilege of working with or leading four great Americans who would give their last full measure in the sands of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan.

Specialist Joseph Lister was the first casualty of the war I personally knew. Joseph was my loader in Korea during his year there. However, he was more than my loader. He was one of my hardest working young Soldiers despite the troubles he faced at home trying to keep his marriage together. I spent numerous hours working with Joseph on and off the tank, helping him with his relationship since I knew it was tearing him apart, and rather unorthodox, wrestling with Joseph. Joseph was a very competitive person and my tank platoon was a very tight group who loved to joke around and occasionally wrestle one another during their off time. Joseph loved to wrestle and out of his desire to best this young butter bar Lieutenant, he would routinely challenge me in front of the other men. Maybe out of foolish pride to not be seen as the scared young officer or out of touch with the men, I accepted his offer and beat him routinely. He never got the best of me in wrestling, but I will always remember Joseph and it was during the scenes in Fury where Brad Pitt and his fellow Soldiers are sharing light hearted moments with the line “Best Job I ever had!” that I remember Joseph the most.

Staff Sergeant Edward Carmen was my first gunner in Korea. Edward and I worked well together as a duo on the tank. Our first gunnery together, we shot distinguished with a score of 960 and even beating my two Staff Sergeants Wing Tank Commanders who were waiting for their moment to gloat that they bested this young butter bar. The score itself it less important because how Edward and I achieved it is the memory I will forever cherish. For some unknown reason, every time we fired at a target, our optics went black. Edward and I called have pulled off the range, but instead we let our competitive and stubborn nature take over. Edward’s simple improvisation was the smack the side of the fire control system as hard as possible until the picture returned. We did this on every engagement and to our astonishment, it worked! Edward Carmen literally helped me build my confidence as a Tank Commander, Platoon Leader, and Officer. For that, I am eternally grateful to the time I shared with Edward Carmen on Charlie 11.

Major Thomas Kennedy is chronologically out of order because he is the last casualty I know, but fits within the Korea theme. Thomas served as the Company Fire Support Officer of the same Company I was serving as a Platoon Leader. We struck it off great since naturally we had a common bond as New Yorkers. We worked often on numerous alert exercises and on training missions in the Korean Training Center (Twin Bridges) and Rodriguez Range planning fire support missions. Thomas didn’t stay attached with my company for too long because everyone knew he was a gifted individual which is why he was chosen to be the Brigade COLT Platoon Leader. Almost 10 years later, I would see Thomas’s name on a casualty report while in Afghanistan. The name and picture looked too familiar and I asked the Chief Warrant Officer in charge of personnel matters for the ISAF Commander if he could confirm my suspicion. He confirmed that it was the same person I remember and I would learn that I shared this painful news with another good friend, Mark Cobos, who attended West Point with Thomas, while working together at ISAF. That Sunday during the customary reading of fallen names, I did my best to support Mark as we shared stories of Thomas. Sadly, but in a positive way, I credit this event with creating a stronger friendship between Mark and me during our tour in Afghanistan.

Captain Brian Bunting is the last individual from Korea whose life would be cut too short in Afghanistan. Brian was a platoon leader in the Company I was serving as the Executive Officer. Brian and I got along well though I am sure I annoyed him from time asking for his 5988 Maintenance Report (akin to me asking for his TPS reports). Brian was a good natured soul who loved being a Platoon Leader and cared for his Soldiers. He also loved the Fraternity Atmosphere that existed in the Lieutenants Building (Building 1009) in Dragon Valley. That building was a long walk from the front gate of Camp Casey and even longer when myself and two other Lieutenants struggled to carry Brian back to his bed after a night of partying. Great guy, but dam was he a Big Boy!

FOR KNOX — LOOK TO YOUR LEFT AND RIGHT

When I attended Armor Officer Basic Course in 2000, I could never have imagined someone saying “Look to your left and right because someone sitting here will perish in our nation’s next conflict.” Unfortunately, this became somewhat of a reality as two classmates of mine would be killed in Iraq, and a third from college who attended the same course a year later.

Captain Rowdy Inman is the first person I remember from the first day of the course because he was already selected to be the student class leader. Rowdy was a former Marine and an enlisted Paratrooper who made another transition to become an Armor Officer. I guess he got tired of walking! Because of his prior service experience, Rowdy was the Old Guy of the group, but someone who we all quickly grew to like. I remember getting into an argument once with Rowdy on why we were being asked to pick up trash outside our classroom building. His response was perfect when he said “if you don’t understand what it is like to do such work, then how can you relate and order your Soldiers to do this kind of work?” I never forgot those words. Years later, Rowdy and I were classmates again at Fort Knox attending the Advance Course. In 2009, I learned that Rowdy was killed in Mosul when a rogue Iraqi Police Officer shot him in the back. It was the first instance of someone I would know killed by what we would later call “Green-on-Blue” incidents in Afghanistan where the guys we were training would turn their guns on us.

Captain Humayun Khan was my second classmate killed in Iraq. While Humayun and I were in different small platoons in the course, we would routinely hang out together in downtown Louisville, Kentucky. Our favorite hangouts were “The Bar” Louisville and the bars along what we would call “Irish Hill” since there were several Irish Bars along the strip.

Captain Robert Bager and I attended the State University of New York College at Brockport together; he was a junior when I was a senior. Robert attended the Officer Basic Course at Fort Knox a year after I did and was assigned to 1–1 Cavalry in Germany. I ran into Robert in Germany in 2004 after he returned from his deployment to Iraq at a bar in Frankfurt. We had a chance to catch up on our time at Brockport. In 2005, while I was at Hohenfels, an incident report came into the Brigade Operations Center that a Soldier has sustained serious burns after accidentally touching the overhead power lines at the rail head a few miles away. Later I would learn that it was Robert who died from burn wounds in a hospital.

CRAZY RAMADI

The next two were individuals I served with in Ar Ramadi, Iraq. In total, I personally know four individuals killed in Ar Ramadi; however, I will only cover two here because the other two will be shared with another thematic story of loss.

Specialist Vincente Pomante was assigned as an enlisted driver to the Brigade Fire Support Officer. I would routinely interact with Vincente as the Brigade Plans Officer and later when I joined my Battalion. Vincente was a good natured kid who loved life and would share his passion for cars with me. I remember my time working with Vincente in the Plans Shop in Germany and later in Iraq. I remember him showing me the infamous “Leroy Jenkins” Video and commenting how the Character Leroy reminded us both of Captain Travis Patriquin — an unconventional warrior stuck in a conventional setting. Sadly, Vincente died alongside Travis and Megan McClung from an IED.

Major Megan McClung who was the Brigade Public Affairs Officer assigned to my Brigade from the Marine Corps HQs in Fallujah after my Brigade assumed responsibility for Ar Ramadi. Megan was a Marines Marine…tough as nails but extremely friendly and great to work with. She was also a physical specimen capable of outdoing most of the guys in runs and pull ups. She and Vincente died riding the same vehicle on December 6th. When I moved outside Quantico, Virginia in 2009, I visited the US Marine Corps National Museum. It is there I saw an honorary plaque with Megan’s name on it. As a result, I made it a point to bring my daughter there to see her name so that one day she will know what a strong, honorable, patriotic, female warrior Megan was.

PAINFUL TRIANGLE OF LOSS

The next three deaths are the hardest because they are interlinked. It centers on the loss of my little brother and two friends, Jason West and Travis Patriquin, who helped me during that crisis. Sadly, July 24th and December 6th are painful reminders of two Army brothers lost who had worked hard to get me home to be with my blood brother.

Sergeant Anthony Kalladeen was my little brother. He and I shared a sad history of being separated multiple times in our youth only to be separated one final time by war. We grew up apart but were very much alike. Both had a passion for sports, martial arts, and the military. After High School, Anthony joined the Marine Corps and served in Hawaii and Okinawa. He would also call me “Boot” when I was in ROTC because I was a newbie compared to him. He later finished his tour in the Marines and joined the Army National Guard while attending SUNY Purchase. It was then that he volunteered to leave college early to deploy with the famed 69th Infantry from New York City. His death was the most shocking because the day before I found out, I had a feeling something bad was going to happen. I only remember thinking that I needed to put together a care package from Germany with the latest magazines and other items. The evening before I found out, it felt like someone was pressing the air out of my lungs — I’ve always wonder whether I was spiritually feeling the moment he died. I remember it was only Travis and I in our plans shop together. I assumed that Travis had experienced loss before from his deployment to Afghanistan and I had reached out to him for support. At the same time, I reached out to Jason West, the Brigade Assistant Personnel Officer, to verify if the news about my brother were true. Sadly, Jason returned with the Chaplain to my office a few hours later to confirm the worst. Thankfully, Jason worked hard to get me home the next day to transport my brother home from Dover Air Force Base to my family. I went to my friend, Lane Bomar’s house to call my parents and I remember the moment I heard my mother screamed when she heard the news. My adopted mother was not Anthony’s biological mother, but she had worked hard to re-unite us when I was 18 and felt a connection to him. The three days spent in a hotel outside the Philadelphia airport were the hardest because I didn’t have anyone to really talk to. Also, I worried about what I would see when I arrived at Dover. Based on what I knew about IEDs, how badly would the body be? Would I have the courage to tell my family that the casket had to be closed? Thankfully the casket was not closed and I escorted Anthony from Dover Air Force Base to Reading, Pennsylvania and eventually laid him to rest at Fort Indiantown Gap National Cemetery. When I returned from the funeral, my Commander, now Lieutenant General Sean MacFarland, gave me the option to stay behind as part of the Rear Detachment. I never shared that option with anyone to include close friends or family. My rationale was simple at the time. I couldn’t bear the thought that if I didn’t deploy and someone else who was married and had kids (Lane Bomar, Aaron Dixon, or Travis Patriquin) perished doing something I could have done for the Brigade, I wouldn’t know how to deal with such guilt. Sadly, that didn’t stop the pain as Anthony’s death would later make the next two losses cut deep.

Captain Jason West and I initially met in 2004 after his return from Iraq. He was replacing me as the Assistant Brigade Personnel Officer as I transitioned to the Operations Shop to join fellow Captains Lane Bomar and Dennis Davis. I worked often with Jason as I prepared the Brigade’s Operations Orders and also spent time outside of work with Jason. Jason was in love with his soon to be wife. In fact, I remember spending a weekend with Jason in Germany before he was married and hearing his excitement about his marriage. I also remember seeing the Pittsburg Steelers stuff all over his house which explains his and Dennis Davis’s connection. I saw Jason often while we were both in the Tal’Afar region; however, after the Brigade was re-assigned while leaving my Battalion behind, I never saw Jason again. Jason was killed shortly after marrying his beautiful wife and returning from mid-tour leave. If it wasn’t for Jason, I would never have made it home in time to escort my little brother.

Captain Travis Patriquin was a unique figure. An unconventional minded warrior caught in a conventional setting. I would later describe him as the “Lawrence of Arabia in Ramadi.” I, and many others who served with Travis, would later have the honor of working with author William Doyle on his book “A Soldier’s Dream” about Travis and his exploits in Ramadi. What I remember most about Travis was how he would intentionally try to drive me insane by playing “Is this the Way to Amarillo” by a group of British Soldiers and would give me the nickname “Chaddeus” because I had a propensity to blast the “Gladiator” soundtrack while furiously writing Operations Orders for the Brigade. In Iraq, Travis and I worked closely in Tal’Afar and Ramadi. He introduced me to Sheikh Sittar Abu Risha as the Al Anbar Awakening was growing in strength. His introductions of the Sheikhs in northern Ramadi allowed me to work closely with them as we expelled Al Qaeda from the area. Sadly on December 6th, I was working with one of the Sheikhs when my friend Lane Bomar informed me of the IED attack that just killed Travis, Vincente, and Megan in the same vehicle. I stepped outside the meeting room to look across the river as I saw the smoke plume rising from the city where the attack took place. All I remember is that I felt pain and anger at the same time. Later, Lane Bomar and my fellow Albany native, Thomas Breslin, and I went across the river to see the “Angel Flight” that was coming to pick Vincente, Megan, and Travis. They were the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Casualty of the day as the Brigade suffered two earlier ones that day. I remember being in a mass formation as the helicopter arrived and the utter silence of everyone there as the bird departed. Lane, Thomas, and I walked back to the Brigade Operations Center to where Travis had his desk. I remember the emotions overwhelming us as we looked at the photos of Travis, his wife, and young kids. To make matters worse at that moment, the radio announced another casualty. The 6th Casualty on the 6th of December. Years later when my wife was pregnant, my wife and I had an agreement that if we had a boy; I would get to name him. I had planned on calling him Travis Anthony Pillai in honor of both Travis and my brother Anthony. We didn’t have a boy and were blessed with a beautiful daughter.

HONOR BRACELETS

There were many others lost serving in my Brigade from 2006–2007, but because I didn't know those individuals, their stories are for others to share. The memories of the 12 lost will endure with me for the rest of my life. To this day, I only wear a bracelet in honor of my brother, Anthony Kalladeen, with the knowledge that someday I will make a more permanent bracelet with all the names on it. I was afraid to do it earlier in the event another name, another story, was added to my collective memory of the price of war. I know there are possibilities that I may know future names as we continue our fight to defeat Deash and confront other threats. This is especially true as I begin my next assignment with a specific focus on our Third War against Deash. For me though, it is time to transition mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to the fact that an era has come to an end. The two wars fought after the horror of 9/11 have concluded and I want to find new ways to honor the memories of my friends and brother who I have lost since then. So, I will soon take my one bracelet off with only one name and replace it with one honoring the names of 12.