Navy Cross – posthumous (2)

Those three words belong together. In the two hundred plus years that the United States Marines have served their country, the young men who served have lived up to every challenge and met every foe.

Jordan Haerter and Jon Yale went out for guard duty in the morning of April 22, 2008. Before nightfall, their actions would become the stuff of Marine legend. A hundred years from now, drill sergeants will use their names to inspire future generations of Marines.

Manning a small guard post as they had dozens of times in the past, the two Marines saw a truck speeding towards them through the string of barriers on the road. It was obvious that something was wrong, that the truck was probably a suicide bomber driving a load of explosives.

Both Marines held their ground and began shooting. The truck detonated, well short of its goal, killing the two and leveling the guard post.

But 50 Marines and Iraqi policemen in the targeted building survived.

San Diego Union-Tribune

Two of the Marines, Cpl. Jonathan Yale, 21, and Lance Cpl. Jordan Haerter, 19, earned the Navy Cross, the service’s second-highest award for valor. On guard together at the front gate of a base in Ramadi, the two men stood their ground and opened fire as a truck loaded with 2,000 pounds of explosives weaved around concrete barricades toward them.

Their gunfire slowed the truck, which exploded close to where they stood. Yale and Haerter died, and three Marines were wounded along with eight Iraqi policemen and more than 20 civilians. But their actions are credited with saving the lives of at least 50 U.S. and Iraqi troops on the base.

“I will never forget blessing Lance Cpl. Haerter’s body,” said Lt. Cmdr. William Muhm, a chaplain who spoke at the service. “I will always be grateful that I was there to do it.”

Jonathan T. Yale

Marine Cpl Jonathan T Yale, Navy Cross for valor in Iraq

Jonathan Yale was close to his mother, a single parent who gave birth to him when she was only 17. And he was the kind of guy who liked to make people happy, she said.

“He was the class clown, even when he wasn’t at school,” his mother, Rebecca Yale, said yesterday. “But he also didn’t mind sitting home with his momma to watch a chick flick with a box of Kleenex between us. He was the best boy you could ask for.” [snip]

Yale grew up in rural Meherrin, one of those “teeny tiny little Virginia towns where if you sneeze, you miss it,” Rebecca Yale said.

When he was little, Yale loved to hang out with his granddad “in the bush and the thicket,” his grandfather, William Sydnor Sr., said. “I used to call him ‘Wild Man.’ No matter how much he would get scratched up in the woods, he always wanted to go again next time . . . and he was only 5 or 6 then.”

Sydnor said his son, Yale’s father, lived with the boy off and on while he was growing up.

Yale became an “awesome skateboarder” and “one of the top paintball players” in the area, according to his mother. She said he was setting up a Web site for a paintball team he had founded.

Jordan Haerter

Lance Cpl. Jordan Haerter, Navy Cross for valor in Iraq

Lance Cpl. Jordan Haerter, 19, was from a comfortably middle-class suburb on Long Island. As a boy, he had worn military garb, and he had felt the pull of adventure and patriotism. He had just arrived in Iraq.

On April 22, the two were assigned to guard the main gate to Joint Security Station Nasser in Ramadi, the capital of Anbar province, once an insurgent stronghold and still a dangerous region. Dozens of Marines and Iraqi police lived at the compound, and some were still sleeping after all-night patrols when Yale and Haerter reported for duty that warm, sultry morning.

Yale, respected for his quiet, efficient manner, was assigned to show Haerter how to take over his duties.

Haerter had volunteered to watch the main gate, even though it was considered the most hazardous of the compound’s three guard stations because it could be approached from a busy thoroughfare.

The sun had barely risen when the two sentries spotted a 20-foot-long truck headed toward the gate, weaving with increasing speed through the concrete barriers. Two Iraqi police officers assigned to the gate ran for their lives. So did several Iraqi police on the adjacent street.

Yale and Haerter tried to wave off the truck, but it kept coming. They opened fire, Yale with a machine gun, Haerter with an M-16. Their bullets peppered the radiator and windshield. The truck slowed but kept rolling.

A few dozen feet from the gate, the truck exploded. Investigators found that it was loaded with 2,000 pounds of explosives and that its driver, his hand on a “dead-man switch,” was determined to commit suicide and slaughter Marines and Iraqi police.

The thunderous explosion rocked much of Ramadi, interrupting the morning call to prayers from the many mosques. A nearby mosque and a home were flattened. The blast ripped a crater 5 feet deep and 20 feet across into the street.

Shards of concrete scattered everywhere, and choking dust filled the air.

Haerter was dead; Yale was dying.

Three Marines about 300 feet away were injured. So were eight Iraqi police and two dozen civilians.

But several dozen other nearby Marines and Iraqi police, while shaken, were unhurt. A Black Hawk helicopter was summoned in a futile attempt to get Yale to a field hospital in time. A sheet was placed over Haerter.

When I interview heroes, or read their stories, two things stand out. They all say that they were not heroes, that they were just doing their duty. And they all say that they acted to save their fellow soldiers, sailors, airmen or Marines. I do not know what Jordan and Jon would answer to the question “Why?” but I am willing to wager that they would tell us that they did it because they were Marines and it was their duty.

Photos at Newsday

Jordan Haerter Memorial Site

The modified Husky tactical support vehicle is an important tool in defeating improvised explosive devices used by insurgents against alliance forces in the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan

Marines are employing a unique piece of equipment that’s helping lower the threat of improvised explosive devices in the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan.

Operation Gateway III, which involved the clearing of southern Afghanistan’s IED-laden Route 515, marked the first time the Route Clearance Platoon of 3rd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment (Reinforced), used the Husky tactical support vehicle in combat operations.

The Husky, equipped with an Interim Vehicle Mounted Mine Detector to detect hidden metallic explosives, is similar in construction to the mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicle, also known as the MRAP, with a V-shaped undercarriage to direct the blast away from the vehicle and protect its driver. Its single-operator cockpit is fitted with armored steel, ballistic windows and an on-board automatic fire extinguisher. The vehicle detects IEDs with its IVMMD, which employs both metal detection and ground penetrating radar sensors to find the deadly IEDs.

“This is a very safe vehicle,” said Andrew Jorgensen, the lead field service representative of the Husky. “There have been a lot of safety upgrades to ensure the operator is well protected. I have known operators to have had an explosive detonate underneath this vehicle, and then 15 minutes later they are outside taking pictures with the vehicle.”

1st Lt. Samuel Murray, the Route Clearance Plt. commander, said his Marines feel very secure in the Husky.

“This is an overall better vehicle than previous models,” Murray said. “If a mine were to detonate underneath the vehicle, I am sure the operator would come out of it just fine.”

The Husky tactical support vehicle is an important tool in defeating improvised explosive devices used by insurgents against alliance forces in Afghanistan

During Operation Gateway III, the upgraded Huskies proved to be effective after encountering pressure-plate IEDs that detonated beneath the vehicles. Reports confirmed that the vehicles sustained mostly minimal damage that did not require outside assistance to repair and no injuries were reported. In most cases, the vehicles were back on the road in less than two hours.

Once the Husky’s IVMMD detects an IED, it sounds an alarm to the operator in the cabin.

“The sensors on the IVMMD pin-point exactly where the explosives are hidden,” Murray said. “Once we figure out where it is, we mark it using water-based paint.”

The finding is then exploited by explosive ordnance disposal teams.

The Husky has also been used in Iraq since 2003 to battle the threat of IEDs, and now the vehicles are a vital asset for saving lives and completing the overall mission in Afghanistan.

“The Husky keeps us from having to put Marines on the ground to sweep for mines,” Murray explained. “Although this isn’t the sexiest job in the Marine Corps, it is a job that has to be done and we are well prepared to handle it.”

DVIDS
By Lance Cpl. Monty Burton
Special Purpose Marine Air Ground Task Force – Afghanistan

Here are ten men who have inspired us at America’s North Shore Journal in 2008.

1. PO2 Michael A. Monsoor: Awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously for his courage during combat in Iraq. Navy SEAL.
2. Spc. Ross McGinnis: Awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously for his courage during combat in Iraq. Dove on a grenade to save his fellow soldiers.
3. Master Sgt. Brendan O’Connor: Awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his courage in combat in Afghanistan. Green Beret.
4. Staff Sgt. Erich Phillips: Awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his courage in combat in Afghanistan. Paratrooper.
5. Sgt. 1st Class Timothy Nein: Lead the Raven 42 unit and earned a DSC there. Returned to Iraq for another tour.
6. Sgt. Gregory S. Ruske: Awarded the Silver Star and a Purple Heart for his courage in combat in Afghanistan. Army Reservist.
7. Staff Sergeant Kenneth Thomas, Jr.: Awarded the Silver Star for his courage in combat in Iraq. Ambushed while on river patrol in a boat.
8. Lance Cpl. Moses Cardenas: Awarded the Silver Star and Purple Heart for his courage in combat in Iraq. Rescued fellow marine under heavy fire.
9. Staff Sgt. Robert J. Miller: Miller’s story has not yet been told nor have any awards been announced. Insiders tell ANSJ that his actions were the stuff of legend.
10. Lance Cpl. Jordan Haerter and Cpl. Jonathan T. Yale: UPDATE: Navy Cross. No awards for these two marines announced yet. Killed while preventing a massive truck bomb from reaching their fellow Marines.

Thanks to Cassy Fiano and Drew at Ace for the update on Haerter and Yale.

Reprinted from November 4, 2005

DefendAmerica

It was June 23, 2005, when 20 Marines boarded a seven-ton truck and began their treacherous journey back to Camp Fallujah, Iraq. What happened a short distance down the road is something that has, and will, continue to change their lives forever.

Sitting in the second to last seat in the back, on the right side of the truck, was Lance Cpl. Erin Liberty of Niceville, Fla., an ammunition technician with Ammunition Company, 2nd Supply Battalion, 2nd Force Service Support Group. She remembers talking with the female Seabee next to her, when a series of combined explosions violently lifted the truck from both sides.

“When it blew up, we all flew back and then forward again in our seats,” said Liberty. “I looked at the girl next to me and saw her bounce up and down in the flames. I just closed my eyes and waited for it to end. I felt myself being thrown in the air, but my eyes remained shut. When I impacted the ground, I realized nothing hurt. I felt everything that was happening, but it was like there was a bubble around me, because when I hit the ground and woke up, I felt no pain. I looked at my hands and saw the skin hanging off my left pinky finger, but it still didn’t hurt. Not then. ”

On the ground and covered in dust, she knew it was an improvised explosive device. Later, Liberty said she learned it was constructed of five, 155-millimeter incendiary rounds and a few propane tanks. They had gone off about six feet from each side of the truck.

Trying to recover from the concussion and the ringing in her ears, she looked over and saw the Seabee she had spoken too just seconds before the blast.

“She was lying next to me, unconscious,” Liberty added. “I tried to pull her away from ground zero, but there was a firefight happening at the same time, so a few guys pulled me off and threw me against the wall. I wanted to go back for her, but the way the truck was positioned, it rolled over on top of her before I could.”

After the firefight died down and the injured Marines and sailors were recovered, they loaded onto another vehicle and headed straight for the Battalion Aid Station at Camp Fallujah, said Liberty.

“We then just jumped on another seven-ton and drove away,” Liberty said. “We all just sat there in silence, except for the sounds of discomfort and pain. I can still see the people with their skin hanging off of them. I remember seeing this girl with blood all over her flak jacket and the skin on her fingers falling off. Then, suddenly the silence broke, when a girl in the back of the truck started singing, Amazing Grace. I remember praying to God, and thanking Him that I was alive.”

When they returned to the camp, they were rushed into the surgical unit, but all the serious and critical injuries were rushed in first. Liberty said she walked in after everyone else.

They fixed both of her badly burned hands before she went back to her room. When she got there, she saw she had received packages from home that day.

“One was from my mom. She got me the most gorgeous rosary,” said Liberty. “That night, I just remember lying in bed, praying to let me forget about it. I tried to sleep that night, but obviously I couldn’t sleep much. All I wanted was to just wake up in the morning and feel like it didn’t just happen. The whole thing just kept playing in my mind.”

The next morning, she remembers waking up and thanking God. But with the morning sun came a new pain. Her neck began to hurt, so she went back to the aid station.

The doctors told Liberty she had broken a cervical vertebrae in her neck and she was going to have to return to the United States.

She returned to Camp Lejeune shortly after the incident and has been on convalescent leave since July 3. Not long after she went on leave, she received her Purple Heart Medal.

“It was extremely hard to accept, knowing all the people that had died,” said Liberty. “It’s nothing you can train or practice for, and you always receive it under the worst circumstances.”

Now, she wears a neck brace to assist in stabilizing the break and help with the pain. She is currently recuperating from first-, second- and third-degree burns on her hands and two black eyes in addition to her neck injury.

Liberty will undergo surgery in Florida next month, where they will put a metal plate between her C4 and C5 vertebraes in an attempt to stabilize the break.

In light of the life-altering events she’s been through, she’s still moving forward in her life. Liberty married on Sept. 19, after getting engaged right before she left for Iraq in February.

“It’s been a rough engagement,” Liberty said, with a light, but respectful chuckle.

Liberty said, that even though it has been almost four months since the incident, she still has thoughts of that day.

“I wonder what would have happened if those guys wouldn’t have pulled me away from the truck,” she added. “I imagine what would have happened if I had the strength to pull her away. I’m sure that will always stay with me. Honestly, my mind and my heart hurt way more than my body ever will.”

Heavy equipment operators from Combat Logistics Battalion 5 and combat engineers from Regimental Combat Team 1 completed leveling berms here on Oct. 19, 2008.

The Marines spent about a week leveling approximately five miles of protective dirt mounds that extended along the sides of Wolverine Way, a road stretching from Camp Baharia to the edge of the city of Fallujah.

The project serves two purposes: to provide better visibility for Marines who occupy an observation post on the road and to make the area look more normal for the local Iraqis, said Staff Sgt. Bryan Spencer, platoon sergeant, Operations Platoon, Engineer Company, CLB-5.

“We’re going all the way down this road to get rid of all the berms and get it looking nice again,” said Spencer, from Texarkana, Texas.

The Marines worked from dawn to just before dusk along Wolverine Way knocking down the berm and flattening the land as much as possible.

As the heavy equipment operators and combat engineers leveled the dirt, nearby Iraqi civilians watched and saw a newly unobstructed view of their countryside.

Leveling the berms around Fallujah is part of a greater effort by coalition forces to demilitarize coalition camps in Anbar and turn over control of the area to the Iraqi government and security forces.

To prepare for closing the bases, coalition forces remove military barriers such as the large reinforced concrete T-walls, Hesco barriers and concertina wire and withdraw all of the military equipment in order to return the areas to the condition they were in when they were occupied.

In al-Anbar province, the coalition has closed or turned over control of Hit, al-Qa’im and Camp Blue Diamond in ar-Ramadi to the Iraqi government, and are preparing to close more bases, including Camp Fallujah, in January.

Coalition forces are withdrawing from areas close to the cities and showing the Iraqi people that things are indeed getting better, said Maj. Gen. John Kelly, commanding general, Multi National Force – West, about the demilitarization of Camp Fallujah during a Pentagon press brief on Oct. 23, 2008.

For a few of the CLB-5 Marines, who came from Camp Ramadi to help with taking down the berm, the project has been a bit nostalgic.

Spencer has seen the evolution of the Marine Corps’ presence in Iraq from the beginning. He helped build up the coalition footprint in Anbar, including berms like the one along Wolverine Way. Now he is tearing them down as the country transitions back to Iraqi control.

“I was here in [Operation Iraqi Freedom 1] when we put the berms up,” said Spencer. “It’s good to see it coming down. It’s good to see us getting ready to demilitarize some areas — give some areas back and wind down [operations] a little bit.”

DVIDS
By Cpl. Daniel Angel
I Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward)