Some Gave All

This entry is about how the Army mourns.

Within forty-eight hours of the deaths of PFC Wallace, SPC Fisher, and SGT Drier; Bravo Battery was required to attend a meeting that we were told would teach us to deal with the deaths of our comrades. I really resented that the Army was going to try and tell us the proper way to mourn. I really didn't want to go. But it was mandatory.

What I thought was supposed to be a class telling us how to mourn actually turned out to be an exercise in group mourning, which turned out to be helpful in my opinion. I am glad the Army did it.

We went to the MWR(morale, welfare, and recreation) building where the Battery was split into its five platoons. My platoon went to the movie room where we met a LT Colonel, who said she was also a psychologist, and a Sergeant First Class, who was a mental health technician.

First, they talked about the grieving process, and the stages of grief. The Colonel went to each person in the room and had them talk about where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news. Then each person talked about how they first felt when they had heard what happened.

The Colonel taped some paper to the wall and and wrote down the names of the three soldiers. She asked everyone to list the good and memorable qualities of each one.

She talked briefly about physical problems that can be caused by the stress of grief, like insomnia, and gastrointestinal difficulty. Then she asked each person to talk about how things will be different as we go on with our mission.

A couple days later, we had the memorial ceremony. It was like any other funeral I've been to with, of course, the exception of military traditions. Instead of coffins, we had a stand with memorial symbols for each soldier, a rifle driven into the ground by the bayonet, a pair of boots in front of the rifle, a helmet resting on the butt of the rifle, and dog tags hanging from the handle. After the benediction, the First Sergeant performed the last role call, in which he called out the names of the soldiers of 4th platoon. When he got to one of the dead soldiers names, and they did not answer, he called out their name two more times before going on. Then they did the firing of volleys and the sounding of taps. Then everybody filed past the stand to say there final goodbye and salute the fallen soldiers. When the Generals and Colonels filed by, they put coins at the feet of the memorials. Some of the younger guys openly cried. I usually don't cry at funerals, I just have a hard time talking. Luckily, I didn't have to this time.

Everyone in America should know that these three were good guys who really deserved better. I know it's hard for average Joe American to find room in his heart for sympathy for three guys when the death toll for this war tops sixteen hundred. But one shouldn't give into the temptation to dwell only on numbers and forget the individual sacrifices made.

PFC Wallace was one of the youngest guys in the battery. He was only twenty when he died. He had married right before leaving for Iraq. The thing I remember most about Wallace is that I never ever saw him in a bad mood. He always seemed to have a smile or a friendly word. You can imagine how refreshing this trait would be on a bad day during a field exercise or deployment.

SPC Fisher was a pretty cool guy. He also had married right before leaving for Iraq. I didn't really know him that well, but I did get to party with him a little on one of those last drinking nights in Savannah right before the deployment. I was walking around with my friend, PFC Guzman when I saw Fisher, Wallace, and SPC Cummins walking down a dark Savannah street. I ran up to them and screamed "Gimme all your money!" Scared em all shitless. It was pretty funny. After that we all ended up at Club Ibiza. Fisher really knew how to party.

SGT Drier was kind of an intellectual type. He was the go-to guy for younger soldiers in his platoon for questions about their job or life in general. There are a lot of people out there who think soldiers, especially soldiers with jobs like infantryman or artilleryman aren't smart. SGT Drier had attended college and studied computer animation before putting education on hold and joining the Army to experience adventure. He said he planned on getting out of the Army and finishing his degree so he could make animation in the style of Veggie Tales. After he died, other people told me that he wanted to join the police and go SWAT when he got out. But I guess that doesn't matter now. SGT Drier and I both shared a love of books. He would stop by my bunk every now and then to see what I was reading. A fan of Richard Bach novels, Frank Miller and Preacher comics. I introduced him to one of my favorite authors, Andrew Vachss, whom he seemed to like. I think he would have got a kick out of learning that I have a desire to become a writer, but I guess that doesn't matter now either. He had an interest in philosophy, and was an ardent critic of organized religion. He wasn't married, but he had a girlfriend he planned to marry after the deployment. He was an all round nice guy. He wasn't complacent in his role as a non-commissioned officer. He helped out the soldiers under his watch. He died way too young. All of them did.

I will always remember them. Every Memorial Day, Veteran's Day, Armed Forces Day, Independence Day, September Eleventh, and any other day when I think about the sacrifices made to keep this country free. And I think everybody in America should remember them. I can't talk about the other sixteen hundred men and women who have died in this war. I can only talk about these three men, because I knew them. I know that they came to this dangerous place of their own volition to do a dangerous job. I know that they paid the ultimate price while trying to make America and the World a better place.

They were common men of uncommon courage. They are not victims of hate-filled zealots, or pawns of a power game between nations. They are heroes.


Private First Class Jeffrey Robert Wallace

Specialist Dustin Cole Fisher

Sergeant Charles Allen Drier


All gave some... And some gave all.