Remembering a Titan

They called him "Touchdown Talbert" at TC Williams. Around Alexandria, Virginia, though, it wasn't just his football exploits that prompted kids coming up to exclaim: "Did you see what Dee did ?"

In a tough enviornment studded with pitfalls, DeForest Talbert relaunched his young life in a way that turned young heads and dropped the jaws of older folks. According to the Washington Post:

He was raised by a single mother in a public housing complex in north Old Town Alexandria. He spent much of his freshman year skipping class and talking back to teachers. He was bright, athletic and good-looking -- and he knew it, recalled Carolyn Lewis, principal of the Secondary Training and Education Program, which supports students who aren't doing as well as they could.
"He was really in trouble in the streets," Lewis said.

Even the most skeptical school administrator must have enjoyed a huge morale boost when Dee not only to took to the one-year alternative ed program but thrived in it. Continuing under its wings for three years, Dee buckled down to academics, develped team skill as a spectacular tight end and cultivated community citizenship by mentoring the little kids at the neighboring pre-school program.

So when Dee won a military scholarship and admission at West Virginia State University, it was as if the sky opened up over Alexandria's meaner streets.

"Here's this kid who went through so many hurdles growing up in the inner city," said Jill Lingle, a George Washington Middle School resource police officer who knows Talbert's family. "Even the younger boys I know at the school would talk about him. They'd say, 'Did you see what Dee did?' Everyone knew he'd gone on to college. He was definitely a role model for these young kids growing up in the same way."

National Guard duties, military study and his work toward a communications degree kept Dee from pursuing football, but not from pursuing romance. Frances Hamilett, studying to be a social worker, met Dee on campus and the two fell in love. Even with the birth of their son Deontae, the two maintained their academic committments and Dee continued his mentoring to the community back home through visits, phone calls and e-mail contact.

It was a two way street. When his unit got deployed to Iraq, Principal Lewis and the young people at TC Williams alt.ed. sent care packages and correspondence to Dee, making him the envy of the unit for the volume of mail he got.

A notable aspect of this war is the flurry of nearly instant communication that accompanies it. Not two nights before the routine patrol that would be his last one, Frances and Dee were instant messaging. Just texting a normal conversation about Deontae, about missing each other. That next day Ms. Lewis had another e-mail from Dee. "Just want you to know that I'm fine," it read, "It's still hot."

Then too that night in Iraq, within moments of the IED blast, tinny voices conferred in chattering transmissions that crackled over walkies and radios. Not a few of the condolence posts left for Dee at Fallen Heroes Memorials mention that they got the news about Dee through those overheard strained exchanges. The posts themselves are recent, three and four years out from July 27, 2004: testament that while communicating such news is quite nearly instant, processing that news can be the work of a lifetime

It's not unusual to read in veteran's accounts how news of a comrade is learned first through just such tinny but frantic voices remote amid the electronic blizzard of our interconnectivity. The veterans especially rue and ruminate upon that burst of information, of communication, followed by a silence made all the more utter and complete when the sender terminates transmission.

That's especially true in Dee's case. A great many folks rue the silence shrouding Dee's voice. Throughout his short life, DeForest Talbert, that most unlikely of success stories, fully utilized every medium at his disposal to stay in touch with a community eager for tips from any trailblazer who could find his way out of a situation frought with missteps and perilous false starts. He maintained a broadband communication with his home, signalling back lessons learned and wisdom earned to ease the way ahead for those hoping to follow.

Not long before OIF, an observer could pick up a lot of chatter about the mission of America's military. Since the '90's when the US got involved in Bosnia and on the fringes of the situation in Haiti, the pros and cons of "nation-building" became a topic for pundits and talking heads.

Wherever anyone stands on that discussion, it seems quite clear that before deploying to Iraq, DeForest Talbert had already dedicated himself to just that mission: nation-building right here at home.

Pfc. Charles ("C.C.") Persing

Justin DeLacerda, 11, pedals past M&M Family Mart, where a sign memorializes Spc. Charles ‘C.C.’ Persing -- Brett Duke photo & caption posted 07/23/04 courtesy NOLA.com (New Orleans Times Picayune and ABC23TV)

At the Iraq Memorial Portal we strive to maintain a sort of Tom Joad-like internet omniscience. For any number of reasons, this is hard going in our considerations of "CC" -- or, as the library ladies around the Portal refer to him, Charles Clayton -- Persing.

On hearing themselves addressed by their full complement of given names, Southern boys especially are conditioned to expect a reprimand or rebuke. The connotation is of stern admonishment that they fully measure up to the character that family and extended family intended to embue when those names were conferred.

Often a Southern boy is fixing to be a young man or well into maturity before he hears spoken in the hyper-formality of such an address a demure tone of pride. A quiet but sure tone suggesting that he has in fact achieved that full character. Hears it spoken or perhaps feels it expressed in the stroke of wizened fingers on his cheek or in the warm grasp of a gnarled and calloused hand that accompanies so quaint a salutation.

Those of us involved in researching and publishing the Epitaphs at the Iraq Memorial Portal go through a lot of wrangling to construct a tribute to the fallen clear of political overtones and free of service branch/unit favoritism or geographic chauvinism.

Again this year, the hard wrangling for editorial balance pretty much went out the window on the "Iraq Daily Epitaphs -- July 19" when we got to Pfc. Persing (third posting, 2004).

Maybe next year we'll move the blatant editorializing to this blog where, arguably, it belongs. We hope you'll give us credit for utilizing footnotes at page bottom to suggest some of the personal thoughts and feelings we maintain for this soldier.

Meanwhile, the Portal is proud to stand behind it's introduction to you of Charles Clayton ("C.C.") Persing, a favorite son and as fine a young man as ever came out of cajun country.

Run for the Fallen

While researching for the Portal over the July 4th weekend (what? you thought we take time off ?) we came across Run for the Fallen, a terrific (and terrifically strenuous) tribute to the fallen of OIF presently ongoing.

Check out this video (minute and a half) -- we'll meet you below.

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Starting on Flag Day back on June 14, a relay team of ten runners set off from Fort Irwin, California bound for Arlington National Cemetery. Each of the 4100 miles of their route is dedicated to a particular servicemember who has made the ultimate sacrifice in Iraq.

The runners leave at each mile in their trail a flag and nametag / bio-profile -- chronologically sequenced west to east by fatality date -- consecrating that mile and "activating" the memory of the fallen hero.

This daunting project grew from idea to internet footprint to sweaty reality among the circle of friends surrounding 1Lt. Mike Cleary of Dallas, Pennsylvania (our "Daily Epitaphs" page headlined his soccer coach's comment that he stood. . . "five foot nothing but was 7 - 5 in heart")

As much as Run for the Fallen celebrates our heroes, its moving backstory of the bonds of love and of friendship that endure the gulf of separation serves as a healthy model to a nation grieving for its fallen patriots and mourning its countrymen.

Run for the Fallen (RFTF) is encouraging physically active tributes to the fallen nationwide. The idea is that folks will dedicate a stint of walking, running, biking or other activity suitable to their fitness level in honor of the fallen. RFTF particularly invites such commemorations on August 24 to coincide with their arrival at Arlington.

The groups' Facebook page facilitates networking at the grassroots level on the 8/24 concept, cultivating a truely national participation. Despite having gained as yet little national exposure in the media, responses thus far for observances nationwide are encouraging.

Meanwhile, the team is keeping a blog as they trek. We're seeing in the comments section of their postings tributes to and anecdotes about our fallen heroes. We anticipate the blog site becoming a rich resource in our elegaic endeavors.

While they accept financial support, they vigorously re-direct support to five organizations dedicated to easing the burden of wounded soldiers, ameliorating the grief of gold star families, and perpetuating the memory of our fallen heroes.

As you can tell, we're fired up about Run for the Fallen. We encourage you to browse around their web presence and hop aboard this bodacious commemoration in whatever way best suits you.

"Born A Fijian -- Dies a Rifleman"

Rfn. Edward Frank Sanday Vakabua
4th Batallion - The Rifles

9 /14 / 83 * * *7 / 6 / 07
Suva, Fiji * * * *Basra, Iraq

A Rifleman Lost - But Never to be Forgotten
Forever "Swift and Bold"

"We have just held a service of farewell for Vaka," writes Lt.Col. PNYM Sanders, OBE

". . .in the dusty, stifling chapel we have made for ourselves here, just above the room where he slept with his friends. It was almost unbearably moving and the tears that flowed down the cheeks of all of us packed into the room were only disguised by the sweat on our faces. His fellow Fijians sang for him – how they sang.

They come from a great tradition of harmony singing, but tonight their powerful, clear, sweet voices rang out across the Shatt Al Arab, singing a hymn with more passion, faith and feeling than I have ever heard. It raised the hairs on the backs of our necks and was a fitting and wonderful tribute to a fallen friend whose faith, courage, selflessness and simple decency defined him and inspired all who knew him."

His sisters and his numerous older cousins back home in Fiji teased Teddy for being "spoilt" as the baby of the family. What they meant was that he enjoyed more space in the house as they embarked on their own lives and suffered less in the way of hand-me-downs. He even got to play new-fangled video games at which he excelled.

While the island republic is rich in beauty, half of Fiji's population live below the poverty line; Teddy's late arrival on the family scene came with some advantages.

And some severe disadvantages.

"We lost our father when Edward was just about 13," remembers his sister, Arieta Carna. "It did not make Edward grow up angry at the world. He took the loss with grace and humility and enveloped his Mum with all the love and support he could muster."

Throughout his life Vaka impressed people as humble and laid back, a fellow who kept an even keel. Lt. Col. Sanders remembers "a gentle giant; a courteous, smiling, humble man with a natural warmth of spirit, a gentle sense of humour, truly unselfish; in short a gentleman."

His Captain, Will Peltor, recalls "no matter how much you had shouted at him an hour before, [he] would still give you a winning smile and have no hard feelings towards you when you then asked him to do you a favour."

"Edward was advanced for his age," Arieta notes, "In his dictum and the way he carried himself, he was like an old soul......"

His schooling done, Vaka enlisted in the British Army at 20, joining 2,000 Fijians under the Union Jack including his brother, Joji, serving in the 1st Regiment Royal Horse Artillery. Idyllic tropical paradise notwithstanding, Fiji carries the DNA of a warrior tradition that finds expression at home or abroad. The Republic is a reliable U.N. partner in peacekeeping operations, providing toops from its military to far flung hotspots.

By all accounts Vaka was an instant fit with the mortar platoon of The Rifles. "He loved his rest he loved his food," recall mates Lcpl. Zwijnen and Cpl. Grievson, "he loved his rugby and he hated running; he was a true mortarman!"

Vaka "moved from being the quiet Rifleman at the back to being the quiet Rifleman at the front," insists Capt. Peltor, "setting the example to the younger Rifleman; be it whilst maintaining the vehicles with grease all over his arms and hands to preparing the vehicles prior to going out on patrol to actually being out on patrol and 'cutting' about on the ground; not needing to be told what to do.

"He was a team player, he would always do more than his fair share and never think that a more junior Rifleman should do a job instead of him."

And when the chips were down, Vaka was capable of tapping into a reserve of courage.

"Vaka was constantly volunteering for duty in the rooftop sangars - the most dangerous spot," Lt. Col. Sanders writes. "And when a sangar was struck with a direct hit by a mortar round severely injuring a fellow Rifleman, it was Vaka that volunteered to drive the vehicle taking him to the emergency helicopter landing site for evacuation, braving the incoming mortar rounds as he did so with several exploding very close to him. That Rifleman is now recovering in hospital and he owes his survival in part to Vaka's courage."

And through all this mayhem and tedium, Capt. Peltor says, Vaka "incessantly read books; especially large volumes of books on military history as well as his favourite Special Forces books. It was for this reason and his exceptionally neat writing that he always guaranteed himself for being pinged when a 'scribe' was required."

Those traits were brought forward from childhood, according to Arieta, who remembers that he "loved movies and books. And again not those meaningless movies with a lot of sound and action. Movies that challenged the mind, was what Edward loved. Edward was well read."

"He was also exceptionally bright," Lt. Col. Sanders concurs. "He scored top of his basic skills examination and read avidly, with a love of military history which he found inspiring. When I last saw him he was reading 'Redcoat' and we had a long discussion about the books we particularly loved.

"He loved being a Rifleman" the Colonel reflects, "and wanted nothing more than to stay with his mates in the Platoon and talked of serving to his twelve year point. He had no desire or inclination for promotion; it was not that he lacked ambition" Sanders asserts,"his ambition was simply to be the best Rifleman he could be."

If any hearts are not broken at the loss of such a soldier, let them break now: Vaka was killed in his sleep as a result of foolish -- foolish -- horeseplay with a loaded weapon.

"What happened was just a mindless accident," one of the lads in 4 Rifles told the tabloids, "Nobody thinks Edward was murdered. But at the same time it’s the number one rule in the Army that you don’t play around with weapons. It was appalling stupidity and someone deserves to get locked up for a long time.

"Edward’s death was the last thing we needed at the time and left everyone really down. The enemy were killing enough of us without any of us having to help them."

The grief, especially for those who knew of the circumstances in advance of the April, '08 announcement from the Ministry of Defence, bore heavy on The Rifles. Nine of Vaka's mates and a handful of his officers joined his brother Joji accompanying the casket on the repatriation flight home.

Letters to Vaka's family arrived from London. Prime Minister Gordon Brown called Vaka a true son of Britain and Fiji "as he died a hero". In his note to Vaka's mum, Sera, Prince Charles expressed his sincere sympathy. His wife, Duchess of Cornwall Camilla Parker-Bowels, Royal Colonel of the Battalion, also sent her condolences. Later in the year, she commemorated Vaka in a year-end speech to The Rifles at their base in Bulford.

Slightly homier condolences are expressed by Vaka's mates at the memorial page maintained for him at the regimental website:

Rifleman Milner said:
"Take care my brother and don’t bother those good looking angels like I know you’re probably doing now. You will not be forgotten."

Rifleman Sharpe said:
"Take care mate I will never forget you. You’re a cracking lad, rest in peace bro."

Rifleman Croker said:
"There will always be a gap in this platoon in which you belong. At least you won’t be doing phys up Kiwi hill any more. Rest in Peace mate."

Lance Corporal Zwijnen and Corporal Grievson said:
"Vaka was a gentle giant. He was a true Rifleman and Mortarman. . . .Even though he was quiet he was a legend to everyone who knew him. He will be greatly missed in mortar platoon. Rest in peace. Three rounds fire for effect followed by rate eight 'Vaka'. Job done."

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And from tafarian95 at YouTube, this memorial video

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Music on the video is by Daniel Rae Costello.

The Rifles' motto "Swift and Bold" (`Celer et Audax`) dates to 1759 at the Battle of Quebec when General Wolfe so characterized the actions of the 60th Royal Americans, ancestral unit to The Rifles. The battalion website makes for precisely the sort of reading Vaka is said to have relished.

Cpl. Travis Bradach-Nall

Five years ago today, Marine Cpl. Travis Bradach-Nall was killed in Karbala during a mine-clearing operation. The 21 year-old volunteered to extend his in-country assignment when he recognized how much work was left to be done clearing up after the invasion.

His mom, Lynn, wasn't keen on the idea when he phoned home. After the divorce, Lynn had had to balance her maternal instincts with the need to be judiciously supportive of decisions made by Travis and Nick as they grew to be men.

It helped that the boys had 18 uncles and aunts all over Multnomah County, Oregon, who weighed in on the rearing of the two boys as well as the herd of cousins they ran with and frequently led. While the mom in Lynn worried at her dare-devil little kid and, later, her white-water rafting teenager, the parent in her accepted Travis' explanation for joining the Marines: ''Because they're the toughest and the strongest."

What she couldn't support, what drove her crazy, was the tattooes ! They skirmished over all of them, especially the "sleeve" he was working on.

Travis figured the way around his mom was through the uncles. Who better than a heavily tattooed Marine to dampen the ardor of boys interested in his girl cousins, he challenged ! Point well taken, but it didn't exactly win an armistice. The heart tattoo with "Mom" written in it sort of backfired too. He'd had it put on the back of his neck and might have lost points when he explained: ''It seemed appropriate since you're always on my back.''

Their lively disagreement about "body art" notwithstanding, all recognized the unconditional love binding mother and son and their devotion to each other. Aware of the hazards he faced, Travis had written home to ask a favor of his Aunt Katie if anything should happen. ''He said, 'Make sure to take care of Mom. Make sure she doesn't go crazy.' That's what I'm supposed to be doing, making sure she doesn't go crazy. Every day, I figure that's what I'm doing for him.''

The Bradach clan made it through that grievous summer, leaning on each other, finding strength in the memory of Travis' zest for life.

Now, five years later, Lynn keeps the memory of her son alive dedicating her efforts to the eradication of land mines and cluster bombs.

It was, after all, the very work Travis was about when he was taken.

Sgt. Chad M. Mercer

"He’s an average guy," Casey Caswell says of his childhood buddy, Chad Mercer. "He did what he had to do to get by. He worked six, seven days a week to provide for his family."

Chad and wife Pam were raising a full house: 2 year old Gavin, Amber, age 5 and Alanna, 8 years old. When Chad came back from Bosnia in 2001, he landed a job at Lee Hardware in Waycross and moonlighted at Papa John's Pizza. "We trained Chad on the job," owners Billy and Kim Turbeville note, "then he of course turned and trained us."

Chad not only kept up with his National Guard obligations, he excelled at them. In 2004 the 48th Combat Brigade named Sgt. Mercer "NonCommissioned Officer of the Year." Likely this came as no surprise to childhood pal Casey, who'd joined the Geogia National Guard along with Chad before graduating Ware County High in '98. Long summer days playing GI Joe in the woods and later days sharpening competitive shooting skills pretty well charted their course to the Guard and to scholarships at Georgia Military College.

"He was a great cadet," according to Col. Pat Beer, Commandant, recalling that Chad's top 20% ranking put him in the Chain of Command. "He always had a very can do attitude. He had the biggest smile you could possibly believe," the colonel reflects, "always very friendly."

It's just such qualites that Moni Basu, an Atlanta Journal Constitution reporter embedded with the 48th, considers the special assets that National Guard units bring to the conflict in Iraq. "There's a lot of interaction between American soldiers and Iraqi civilians and the National Guard guys are great at that because in their civilian lives in Georgia . . .they're used to dealing with civilian problems." She also believes they bring a greater maturity level than professional soldiers who often are right out of high school at 19, 20 years old.

Though Chad was only 25 when he was killed in a vehicle rollover in Baghdad, June 30, 2005, he seems clearly to have been mature beyond his years. "He was a good man," childhood pal Casey Caswell, now a Waycross police officer, comments. "He stood up for what he believed."

"It is so awesome to talk with your children," writes Chad's sister-in-law, Carol Cole, "and hear them tell me 'my daddy died so I can be free.' Who knows if they really understand because they are so young but they truly beleive it.

"Took your son to town last week, offered to buy him a toy but he wanted a flag for his daddy. The girls always look for things to put at your resting place. I know you are keeping watch over your family and we all miss you very much. . .Our family and friends will never be able to thank you and other fallen heroes for ALL that you have given us.

"We will keep your memories forever."

[ The Atlanta Journal Constitution followed the Georgia National Guard's 48th Combat Brigade Team throughout its deployement in 2005-2006. Their archives are readily accessible. Their tribute page, "Remembering the Fallen of the 48th" is particularly moving for capturing the loving soft voices of that region. Some graphics have been eroded with time: each of the nine boxes in a double row array at mid-page activates an additional sound clilp.

A further resource for the work of the 48th in Iraq is found at the brigade's unit page.

Sources for this post include The Atlanta Journal Constitution, Washington Post/Legacy.com, and FallenHeroesMemorials.com ]