by R. J. Belle
R.J. BELLE
AFTER
THE BATTLE HAS JUST BEGUN
After: The Battle Has Just Begun
Copyright © 2016 By R.J. Belle
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations within critical articles and reviews.
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Grateful acknowledgement is made to Stuart Witt for permission to reprint “Final Flight” and Laura Landaker for sharing her letter and memories of her son with us.
Edited by Helen Gerth Mahi
Cover Design by Shawna Graham
eBook Formatting by Maureen Cutajar
Book Trailer by LoewenHerz-Creative
With original music by Greg White Jr.
First publication March 2016
Print ISBN: 978-0-9966235-2-0
For those who gave everything.
Editor’s note: Final Flight (Chapter 1 opening) was written by Stuart Witt of Ridgecrest, Manager at Mojave Airport, Bakersfield, CA and former US Navy F-14/F-18 pilot, on the final flight of 1st Lt Jared Landaker, USMC, who was killed in Iraq on February 07, 2007. He was aboard the flight from Washington, D. C. to Los Angeles February 17, 2007 with the Landaker family as they brought their son home for burial. I felt it important enough to run it in its entirety exactly as it was written.
Author’s note: Interviews conducted for the purpose of writing this book were recorded. In all areas where a direct quote is given, I have listened to the audio taped interview to assure quoted accuracy. Any inaccuracy of reported information in the recounting of stories from the battlefield or elsewhere by those I interviewed is not intentional. All possible measures were taken to insure accuracy of information. Some names have been removed, shortened or changed out of courtesy to all parties involved.
Some of the stories in this book contain erratic shifts in verb tense. These are left in deliberately to allow the reader to hear the stories from the veteran’s perspective. The violence and trauma of many stories included in this book are still vivid and painful.
Contents
1: Final Flight
2: A Different Type of After
3: The Statistics
4: Defining a Hero
5: Defining the Need
6: Warrior Foundation ~ Freedom Station
7: The Stories
8: For Those I Love
9: The Scientist
10: The Mechanic
11: The Student
12: What Level Are You?
13: Doc Schneider
14: A Note for Caregivers
15: The Basketball Star
16: Secret Squirrel
17: Gunny
18: The Volunteers
19: After by Ed Hanson
Acknowledgments
AFTER
THE BATTLE HAS JUST BEGUN
“Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn’t even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back.”
—Heraclitus
CHAPTER 1
Final Flight
By Stuart Witt
Feb. 17, 2007, 0350 curbside at 24th and M, Washington DC. 16 degrees with a light breeze. Going home after my second week of freezing temps. Fly my aircraft, ride a horse, climb a mountain and get back to living. I’m tired of the cold.
0425 paying the taxi fare at Dulles in front of the United Airlines counter, still cold.
0450 engaging the self-serve ticker machine and it delivers my ticket, baggage tag and boarding pass. Hmmm, that Marine is all dressed up early…? Oh, maybe… Hmmm, “Good morning captain, you’re looking sharp.”
Pass security and to my gate for a quick decaf coffee and five hours sleep. A quick check of the flight status monitor and UA Flight 211 is on time. I’m up front, how bad can it be? Hmmm, that same Marine, he must be heading to Pendleton to see his lady at LAX for the long weekend all dressed up like that….? Or maybe not?
“Attention in the boarding area, we will begin boarding in 10 minutes, we have some additional duties to attend to this morning but we will have you out of here on time.”
That captain now has five others with him. BINGO. I get it, he is not visiting his lady, he’s an official escort. How I remember doing that once, CACO duty. I still remember the names of the victim and family, The Bruno family in Mojave …, all of them, wow, that was 24 years ago. I wonder if we will ever know who and why?
On board, 0600: “Good morning folks this is the captain. This morning we have been attending to some additional duties and I apologize for being 10 minutes late for pushback but believe me we will be early to LAX. This morning it is my sad pleasure to announce that 1st Lt. Jared Landaker, USMC, will be flying with us to his Big Bear home in Southern California.
‘‘Jared lost his life over the skies of Iraq earlier this month and today we have the honor of returning him home along with his mother, father, brother and uncles. Please join me in making the journey comfortable for the Landaker family and their uniformed escort. Now sit back and enjoy our ride, we are not expecting any turbulence until we reach the
Rocky Mountains and at that time we will do what we can to ensure a smooth ride. For those interested you can listen in to our progress on button 9.”
Up button 9: “Good morning UA 211 you are cleared to taxi, takeoff and cleared to LAX as filed.” From the time we started rolling we never stopped. 1st Lt. Landaker began receiving his due.
Four hours and 35 minutes later, over Big Bear Mountain, the AB320 makes a left roll and steep bank and then one to the right, Nice touch captain
“Five minutes out from landing, the captain: “Ladies and gents, after landing I’m leaving the fasten seatbelt sign on and I ask everyone in advance to yield to the Landaker family. Please remain seated until all members have departed the aircraft. Thank you for your patience, we are 20 minutes early.”
On roll out, I notice red lights, emergency vehicles everywhere. We are being escorted directly to our gate, no waiting anywhere, not even a pause. Out the left window, a dozen Marines in full dress blues. Highway Patrol, police, fire crews all in full dress with lights on. A true class act by everyone, down to a person, from coast to coast. Way to go United Airlines for doing the little things RIGHT, because they are the big things; Air Traffic Control for getting the message, to all law enforcement for your display of brotherhood.
When the family departed the aircraft everyone sat silent, then I heard a lady say, “God Bless You and your Family, Thank You.” Then another, then another, then a somber round of applause. The captain read a prepared note from Mrs. Landaker to the effect, “Thank you all for your patience and heartfelt concern for us and our son. We sincerely appreciate the sentiment. It is nice to have Jared home.”
After departing the aircraft, I found myself, along with 30 others from our flight, looking for a window. Not a dry eye in the craft. All of us were bawling like babies. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life. We all stood silent and watched as Jared was taken by his honor guard to an awaiting hearse. Then the motorcade slowly made its way off the ramp.
I have finally seen the silent majority. It is deep within us all. Black, Brown, White, Yellow, Red, Purple, we are all children, parents, brothers, sisters, etc … we are an American family.
What you don’t know is that on the flight I was tapped on the shoulder by Mrs. Landaker who introduced hers
elf to me after I awoke. Her words were, “I understand you have sons in the service. Please tell them we appreciate their service. We are so proud of our kids who chose to serve at this time. We were so proud of Jared and today we find ourselves in a fog of disbelief. Jared was three days from returning home.”
Early in our taxi out from the gate at Dulles, the gent next to me (a Fairfax City Council Member and acquaintance of the Thuot family) and I were talking to the flight attendant and mentioned that we had sons serving on active duty, “What do you say? How tragic, they must be devastated.” He said many of the passengers had told him the same thing so somewhere in the flight he shared his tidbits with Mrs. Landaker. Our flight attendant had been struggling with what to say, to find the right words, so he told the Landaker family of passengers who were parents of service members who connected with their grief as parents. After I gathered myself, I stepped back to their row, two behind me and introduced myself to Mr. Landaker (a Veteran of South East Asia as a Tanker) and Jared’s uncle and brother. What a somber moment. Their Marine captain escort was a first rate class act. He had been Jared’s tactics instructor and volunteered for this assignment, as he said, “Sir, it is the least I could do, he was my friend and a great stick. He absolutely loved to fly, It’s an honor to be here on his last flight.”
1115: On my connecting flight, my mind raced. How lucky I was to have had an opportunity to fly my father to Spain and ride the carrier USS John F. Kennedy home in 1981. The same year Jared was born. How lucky I was to have my father on the crows landing when I made my final cat shot in an F-14. Jared’s father never had that chance. Jared was at war, 10,000 miles away.
When Mr. Landaker and I were talking he shared with me, “When Jared was born he had no soft spot on his head and doctors feared he would be developmentally challenged. He became a physics major with honors, a high school and college athlete, and graduated with distinction from naval aviation flight school. He was short in stature, but a Marine all the way.” Visit his life story on line at www.BigBearGrizzly.net. Bring tissue.
February 7, 2007, Anbar Province, Iraq. 1st Lt Jared Landaker, United States Marine Corps, Hero, from Big Bear Calif., gave his life in service to his country. Fatally wounded when his CH-46 helicopter was shot down by enemy fire, Jared and his crew all perished. His life was the ultimate sacrifice of a grateful military family and nation.
His death occurred at the same time as Anna Nicole Smith, a drug using person with a 7th grade education of no pedigree who dominated our news for two weeks while Jared became a number on CNN. And most unfortunately, Jared’s death underscores a fact that we are a military at war, not a nation at war. Until we become a nation committed to winning the fight, and elect leaders with the spine to ask Americans to sacrifice in order to win, we shall remain committed to being a nation with a military at war, and nothing more. (And possibly no funding if congress has their way!)
1st Lt. Landaker, a man I came to know in the skies over America on 17 February 2007, from me to you, aviator to aviator, I am unbelievably humbled. It was my high honor to share your last flight. God bless you. Semper Fi.
I have been contemplating on how to put into words what my life has been like since the loss of Jared. What comes to mind are the constant states of loss and survival; coping with the loss of the child, the loss of your identity as their mother, and the loss of knowing how to move forward. The survival state begins at the same time you begin dealing with the realization of your loss. Can I survive my child’s death; the constant heartache you carry with you daily; will your marriage survive the loss; will our family ever feel peace again; and will we ever find joy and be able to smile when thinking of your loved one?
When I became a mother my life changed for the better in so many ways. I believe I actually knew when I conceived Jared even though it would not be confirmed for several weeks. His birth was unique for Joe and me as I gave birth to him at home with Joe delivering him. But on February 7, 2007, with the sound of multiple footsteps and three knocks on our door, life would change again for me, but not for the better. A month prior to this date, a CH-46 had gone down in the Al Anbar Province where Jared was stationed. I emailed him to make sure he was alright. A few hours passed before he responded with a short “I am fine”.
But on February 7, 2007, it was a different response. A scroll across the bottom of the TV screen saying a CH-46 had gone down in the same area. I ran to the computer and wrote to Jared to make sure it wasn’t him. There was not too much information on the incident as Anna Nicole Smith had passed that day and she took over the news. By noon there still was no response and somewhere deep inside I knew he would not be coming home. Jared was supposed to come home earlier than his Squadron to attend a Weapons and Tactics course in Yuma, AZ, to become an Instructor. Jared had finished his regular flights at that time and was preparing to return stateside. I recounted his flights and felt sure he was not one of the pilots, only to learn later he had been picked to fly with Capt. Jennifer Harris on her last flight before returning to teach at a local college back home.
As I waited to hear any news, I thought if I would just hang out in town they could not find me and inform me my son had been killed. As it turned out they did find me and the nightmare began. I had just returned from town and was walking down the hall when I heard the footsteps and knocks. I turned to see two Marines and a Navy Chaplain all in uniform waiting for me to open the door. I hollered to my husband that they were here. He asked who and I just said, “the Marines”! He collapsed on the floor crying and just kept saying, “he was supposed to come home next week”! Our lives were changed forever in that instant. It is interesting how your mind helps you survive the loss of this magnitude. I remember bits and pieces of what followed: bringing Jared home from Dover; following the Hearst down the hill; the ceremony and flag presentation; and finally, watching him descend into the earth.
The loss of Jared has changed the dynamics of our family in so many ways. There is only the past left when I think of my son, no present, no future. His memory is frozen in my mind and a constant worry I am going to forget them. There is a sadness that flows over me at times. It is not sadness for myself, for I had the pleasure of being his mom for 25 years. My sadness is for him and all that he will never experience. He will never fall in love, watch her walk down the aisle to become his partner; never see and touch his newborn child for the first time; and so much more. There is always a persistent wondering of what he would look like today, would he be married, would he have children, etc. All the firsts dates of a child’s life that are so special to a parent are now dreaded ones. His birthday and the anniversary of his death are the most difficult. One gave him life and one took his life. On his birthday I no longer throw a party and give him a card telling him how much I love him. Now I go to his resting place and post on his Legacy board.
May 6, 2014
Dear Jare: on your 33rd birthday I spent it honoring you and a WW2 Vet in Washington, DC. I escorted the Vet to the WW2 Memorial, a place he never thought he would ever get to see in his lifetime. I listened to his stories of war and life afterward and I shared your life as well. There was a common bond between the both of you that made me so proud of you two and the sacrifices made for our freedoms. Love and miss you more every day, but especially on your birthday.
Mom
Through Jared’s loss I have gained an inner strength I never expected or knew I had. There is a survival instinct deep inside that forces me to get up each day and to look for the joy and peace living offers. I know that is Jared.
~Laura Landaker
CHAPTER 2
A Different Type of After
This project was born from a desire to heighten awareness about the need for services that cater to combat injured service members; specifically the need for services that assist in the transition from military to civilian life after a service related injury.
Working with Warrior Foundation ~ Freedom Station was eye-opening from day one, so m
uch so that I made the decision to write a book about this amazing organization that very day. What has transpired between the day I made that decision and now has been one of the most difficult journeys I have ever attempted to write about. I am still unsure if I can adequately articulate the magnitude of loss, strength, sacrifice, inspiration, and ‘wow’ moments that I have experienced and been able to document in the process of the interviews I conducted.
Early on in the process of crafting the foundation for this project, I requested to interview a few of the men who resided at Freedom Station. I never imagined that it would become so all-consuming, emotionally draining or magnificently inspiring. The interview process was akin to giving pieces of my well-guarded soul away, slowly and in the most heartbreaking ways possible. It was also an awakening I’ve never before experienced. I have learned about strength and courage and, most importantly, sacrifice. Real sacrifice. I have learned what it means to give and to struggle. I have learned what feeling helpless looks like and I have learned what picking one’s self up actually takes. It takes a lot. By a lot I mean it takes an absolute, iron will and a deeply rooted desire to move forward. It takes the stuff that most of us aren’t made of. I am lost when I try to come up with an adjective or paint a picture with words of what it takes. Through this book, these stories and the statistics I uncovered along the way – I hope to paint an accurate and truthful picture of what AFTER looks and feels like for the men and women who survived as well as what AFTER is like for the loved ones of those who didn’t.
There are two types of AFTER.
There is the after that the families of the fallen live each and every day. I felt that the opening of this book should begin with a story of such an after. I believe every person that I interviewed would agree that it is the fallen and those who mourn them that, at least partially, fuels their drive to move forward and build lives worthy of honoring the ones who did not return home alive.