Stryker Brigade News

This has been a wonderful day. It was also a very emotional day. The details below.

Julie and I didn't get on the road until after noon as we had to change rooms to regain Internet access and the ability to be in the same place as that access. We went to get a doll for Aly at the Store with the Backwards R, have lunch with Jack and to stop by Scott's troop to find out exactly where we needed to be for the formation later in the afternoon.

But first, a story about how I know so much about Jack. When I was a social worker, I often had the unfortunate task of removing children from abusive or neglectful parents. I took them to a facility in San Diego near the headquarters of Foodmaker, Inc., the parent company of Jack-in-the-Box Restaurants. In front of this building is a parking place, painted in red, reserved for Jack, the clown-headed "Founder" of Jack-in-the-Box. I told the children (who were old enough to know who Jack was) that I knew where he parked his car and if they behaved themselves on the way, we would go park in his spot. We arrived there, I pulled into the spot and showed them the sign that read: "Reserved for Jack." They always behaved well (it was their parents who had the problem, of course) and were very impressed that I could park in Jack's spot like that. I like to think it gave them some hope that I could help their parents if I had "powerful" friends like Jack whose parking place I could use occasionally.

Back to today. Julie and I arrived at B Troop about 1:40 p.m. or so and went to the office/orderly room. First Sergeant Gano was on the phone, but we saw Sergeant Duval, a good friend of Scott's, and learned the story behind the photographs of them on donkeys. The beasts were used by smugglers (usually of cigarettes) and everybody wanted their photo taken on them. I guess it's sort of like having your picture taken on the back of a burro wearing a sombrero with "Tijuana" embroidered on it when you're a kid. I don't know. Anyway, SGT Duval was kind enough to alert the First Sergeant to our presence and then take us to meet the platoon.

We had the chance to meet Corporal McKracken, who survived the patrol without injury and ask about what happened. He gave us a very clear picture of the events leading up to the ambush and what happened afterwards. He has some feeling of "not doing enough" at the scene, but anyone who gets three M203 grenade shots off in that short a time (5 to 7 seconds) has nothing to be ashamed of. It's survival guilt, of course, something I noted among veterans who put up with me when I was an intern at the VA outpatient clinic in El Paso. I told him of this experience and related how one man was still upset about his experience forty years previously at the Battle of the Bulge. Julie told him not to feel guilty he wasn't hurt because that's something he didn't need to experience. I'm sure he knows this, but still feels that way. I asked him to make a list of what he did and to think about what else he could have done. If the answer is "nothing," which I knew would be the case, then he could move on to "Man, I'm glad I'm alive!" a much better feeling to carry around for the rest of his life.

About this time, the First Sergeant came out and we spoke about the events of the day and where we would need to be at the 1600 formation. We continued to meet members of the platoon as they walked by and it became impossible to leave (not that we really wanted to at this point). We met the new troop commander,Captain Paczynski, and went to his office to finish discussing the incident with the First Sergeant and Corporal McKracken.

I related the story of the event as told to me by Scott. They told me what they knew and we put the final pieces together. The radio antenna on Scott's radio took a direct hit and was destroyed. I told them Scott turned his head and engaged the enemy vehicle, which was described as containing more than one armed knucklehead firing on the patrol. It now seems clear that the bullet that destroyed the antenna ricocheted off, entered his skull above his left ear and tumbled toward the back of his brain. I thought the bullet looked like a ricochet from its misshapen form, but this helps to also explain the source of the other pieces of stuff in Scott's skull and body (although with four M203-unleashed grenades heading toward the enemy, it's possible some pieces were made to NATO specs and hit Scott--"Your burst radius may vary" should perhaps be a part of future training sessions). The First Sergeant offered to give us photographs and other documents related to the incident when he could and we accepted his generous offer. He also gave us remembrance bracelets for Sergeant Jacob Demand, who was killed in the September attack, and for Staff Sergeant Burbank who was killed in the attack that also took the arm of Mike Oreskovic on 11 October.

The First Sergeant told us about the medical care at the 67th Combat Support Hospital and how they worked two hours to stabilize Scott and Travis Majors for the three hour chopper (Marines call them "Oooh, oooh, oooh!" while pointing at the sky) ride to Baghdad where the best neurosurgeons (including LTC Armanda when he was there) in the Army practice. Everyone expressed the medical opinion that if they could survive being shaken up for three hours in a helicopter, they could survive their wounds. I have no doubt that those were the longest three hours in the life of First Sergeant Gano.

Most soldiers think of a First Sergeant as the meanest SOB on the planet, put in place to torment them into compliance with the meanest of Army Regulations. This is true, but they also have to identify and process the remains of their fallen men, whom they care for and cry for like their own sons. They have to begin the notification of next-of-kin process and worry about how their wounded sons are being treated by strangers wearing funny symbols with snakes on their collars.

I can't imagine a tougher way to spend three hours than waiting to see if a helicopter lands with living soldiers or corpses he would have to identify and return home to grieving families he might never get to meet to tell them how sorry he was he could not return him home alive.

I've acted as a First Sergeant several times, but the worst thing I had to put up with was completing the duty roster.

Scott was indeed fortunate to have served with Bronco Troop and the First Squadron of the 14th United States Cavalry. These men were very glad to meet us and all seemed to be avid readers of some update they said helped to keep up their morale. I do not deserve their compliments, but tried to receive them a graciously as I could. They deserve my compliments and I tried to shower them with some every chance I got.

Captain Paczynski explained what awards Scott would receive today and the general flow of events. He answered a call, then told us the Squadron Commander, LTC Carman, would like to meet us. About this time, SFC Rice entered with the Device, which gave me the opportunity to bore the assembled with how I attempted to get something to Scott's unit when he used the Device to let me know what they needed most. I was also able to use the Device to pass along to Scott the rare bit of intelligence I occasionally gleaned from late night hours on the Internet, which is why my co-workers thought I looked tired for the past year or so. I was tired.

Now, "Some of It Can Be Told." Let's imagine one could know what someone very far away needed very urgently and then make someone get that something more quickly than might otherwise happen. This would be "Cool." I can't say for sure, but it looks like it worked, Joe! Thanks again for using that plunger of yours in the logistics pipeline. Come home to us safely and swiftly.

We left with Captain Paczynski for Squadron Headquarters. We went into the building and were greeted very warmly by the commander. I gave him and the Captain a little briefing about how Scott is doing and how he's feeling. It seems that everyone read the updates on a daily basis and looked to them for inspiration. Scott, Tiffany and Aly arrived some time later and they came in to the commander's office. They met and shook hands. Scott told him how he wanted to get back to work and "My guys." I can speak from personal observation that nothing brings tears of joy to higher ranking officers like hearing these words from a wounded soldier. I've heard them at least a hundred times from at least fifty soldiers and it never ceases to have that effect on me. To a man, they want to return to their units. (Note to engineers: Keep up the good work on prosthetics technology. Note to the Army: Give the Medical Discharge Word templates a rest and go see some progress next door in Building Two, Third and Fifth Floors.)

I lost track of how many times I said these things and to whom, so let me just write that I said them and leave it go at that: "I told General Abizaid when he gave Scott the Purple Heart that I would return Scott to duty as soon as possible. This is the first installment of that promise." "I had a duty not just as a father, but as a former soldier and patriot to ensure that Scott was returned to his unit." "The first real steps Scott took of any duration were to check on the welfare of PFC Majors who was also wounded in the attack." "Specialist Mike Oreskovic jumped out of his bed and assumed the position of Parade Rest when Scott came to visit him for the first time, despite just having returned from surgery himself. You have to fix men like this, regardless of the cost." "I'm honored that Scott served with you." "Before its deployment, I wrote that the Stryker Brigade would compare with the parachute infantry units of the Second World War and I'm happy to see they lived up to my expectations." "Thank you for everything you've done for us."

Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he described soldiers as a band of brothers, whose bonds of friendship could never be broken once forged by the stress of combat. I've never seen so many men crying openly in one place. No one was ashamed to shed those tears as they were tears of love for another soldier and joy that he had returned to them when their last memory of him was lying on a litter fighting to stay alive. Julie told me later that SSG Mills, who rushed to the 67th to be with his wounded men (he used to be their section sergeant) and refused to leave them until they were loaded onto the Blackhawk, cried very hard when he saw Scott again at the Squadron Commander's office. I have no idea how these men feel, not having had this experience (possibly thanks in part to the success of an Israeli Army counter-attack in October 1973 that led to me getting to go home that night instead of to the October War).

Julie and I were complimented several times on raising a son with Scott's qualities, which I take as a high honor, but note that others have helped to make him a leader of men and many helped to make him whole again so he could return to those men. I thank them all for their assistance.

I met with quite a few officers and non-commissioned officers before the formation. Captain Tolson, Scott's old platoon leader, who was on duty at the Squadron Tactical Operations Center (TOC) the night Scott called from Walter Reed. Major Davidson, the Squadron Executive Officer, whose letter regarding Scott was a very eloquent description of the effect of Scott's service and wounding had on the squadron. Command Sergeant Major Shover (whose wife was present) who earlier expressed the opinion that Scott was indeed promotable. Captain Blume, Scott's former troop commander, whose e-mail to me about Scott will remain in a safe place in order to be passed on to future Thornes when they arrive. Others were present and all were honored to be associated with Scott in one way or another.

At the appointed time, the unit formed up with a group of nearly equal size on hand to the right of the Troop to share the event. First Sergeant Gano came to get Scott, who of course was both in the correct uniform and under the helmet, and escort him to his place with his platoon. The unit was called to attention and Scott was invited to present himself to the Squadron Commander, who took over from the Troop Commander. Scott marched to "front and center" and saluted. The orders promoting him to Staff Sergeant were read:

"Order 324-0300. The Secretary of the Army has reposed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity, and professional excellence of Scott A. Thorne. In view of these qualities and his demonstrated leadership potential and dedicated service to the U.S. Army, he is, therefore, promoted from Sergeant to Staff Sergeant."

(It's a good thing the Secretary of the Army thinks so because the men Scott served with certainly do.)

Tiffany and LTC Carman removed the old stripes from Scott's collar and put the new stripes on. LTC Carman, in a time-honored tradition, (lightly) punched the stripes on the right collar. After this was done, I went forward, shook Scott's hand and told him he was a better soldier than I was. Tiffany and I backed up for the next part of the ceremony. (For those keeping score, Julie was holding Aly while standing next to Mrs. Shover.)

LTC Carman noted that he was out-ranked (Note to the Army: Correct this as soon as appropriate.) by General Abizaid who awarded Scott the Purple Heart at Walter Reed, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing it again. The appropriate orders were read and Scott was given the certificate resulting from the request for orders made on 14 September 2004 by the colonel.

LTC Carman then awarded Scott the Army Commendation Medal for exceptionally meritorious service during the period of time he was in Iraq and a pair of silver spurs he had personally purchased for the NCO's of the squadron. The Squadron Sergeant Major, Command Sergeant Major Shover, then presented Scott with several coins (These come from the tradition of awarding actual coins to soldiers for outstanding service. An example of this can be seen in the film Barry Lyndon when Barry is given several coins bearing the likeness of Frederick the Great for saving the life of his captain in a recent battle.) for his service in Iraq. As I recall, they were special coins from the Squadron Commander and Sergeant Major, as well as the Brigade Commander and Sergeant Major. Some of the coins Scott has received are especially beautiful and show thoughtful design. I like the cavalry coins very much indeed. Scott was also given certificates noting his exceptional service with the Warhorse Squadron (as the First is known). The certificate reads, in part: Through desert heat and sand, from the banks of the Tigris River to the frontiers of the Syrian border, through the streets of Baghad, Mosul and Tall Afar, this cavalry trooper has displayed courage under fire in defeating an elusive, cowardly terrorist foe in combat. He has demonstrated chivarly and compassion in improving the lives of the Iraqi people, liberated from an oppressive dictator. (No doubt, the pen of Major Davidson has struck again.)

After this was completed, Scott was applauded by the men after the colonel praised him again for his service. Scott then took his place with his platoon and it was suggested that those who wished to congratulate Scott could do so after the formation, which was then dismissed.

A reporter/photographer from the Ranger (the post newspaper) was present and he took some photos of the ceremony. Afterwards, he spoke with me a bit while I gave Scott some time and space to speak to his men. I bored him with stories of my service here with the 9th Infantry Division and suggested that the Ranger archives might have some copy on my accident here in 1973. He was politely interested. The reporter noted that usually everyone took off after such a formation on a chilly afternoon, but it seemed that no one had left. He took this as a sign of their desire to honor him. I agreed. He wanted to ask me some questions, but I asked him instead to come along while I spoke again with SFC George Kettler, my eye in Iraq, and the officers who led Scott in Iraq or knew him from his work. During a break in the compliments to my update writing and parenting abilities, I told the reporter that I figured he would learn more about me by following the conversations than asking direct questions. Actually, I have a tendency to go into "sound bite mode" when confronted with reporters since I was once politically active (a long time ago in an Assembly and Congressional District far, far away) and I didn't want to do this today. I did tell him some of the things I wrote above, but they're not sound bites. As the crowd around Scott gradually dispersed, I got next to him and gave him a big hug. He finally seems to have gotten the fact that he is loved and respected by the men he served with as he was red around the eyes for the right reason. The reporter asked him some questions with the tape machine on. It seemed like he was on the football field after winning the championship game and relating how his play in the final quarter sealed the victory. It was fun to watch and I only had to interpret Scott-ish once or twice for the reporter. He seemed as moved as the rest of us were and I'm glad he got that feeling.

Captain Paczynsky and First Sergeant Gano walked us out to Tiffany's car. One of them noted that the Squadron commander was pretty hard on the punches with promotions. Scott said, "That's okay, I can't feel that side" and we all laughed very hard. They both offered to have someone pick Scott up and bring him to the Troop if he got tired of staying at home and wanted to come in to train with the men. Scott seemed very interested in the idea and knew he would be welcome there any time. I got the time and place of the ceremony for Mike Oreskovic on Friday to Scott and Tiffany so they could come see that. We said our good-byes and departed for Scott's home.

Once there, Tiff arranged for pizza and for friends Mo and Will Duran (who was wounded in the attack with Scott and is doing very well) and their little boy to visit. It was a very enjoyable evening. One of those nights that makes you wish you lived closer to the participants. As we prepared to leave, I jokingly told Tiffany that my update writing was over unless she sent me information on Scott's therapy, so I would direct all complaints to her. I told her we would call to see how they were doing from time to time. Scott said things went well at therapy today at the VA, but they had to do the usual assessment testing again. I told Scott I would call after we got home tomorrow and pass the phone around to friends of ours I game with on Thursdays. They know Scott from the times he's been home on leave and played with us. We hugged Scott, Tiffany and Aly (who likes the new doll) and made our way back to the hotel.

I feel strangely relieved as if a great burden has been removed. I like it and
I'm very pleased with how things went today. Scott "gets it" now, we all understand what happened that day in Mosul and I'm relieved from my duty by Tiffany and the men of B Troop, to whom he belongs forever.

ST

UPDATE (Todd): Steve has added 7 photos from the promotion ceremony to Scott's album. They start at the bottom of page 5 and continue on page 6.