“It all started because the lawnmower ran out of gas,” said Maj. Trent A. Gibson, the executive officer of 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, with a chuckle. “If the lawnmower hadn’t run out of gas, I would have never heard the phone ring.”

The voice he heard upon answering was that of a Marine recruiter, explaining what the Marine Corps had to offer the young man from Piedmont, Okla. Neither could imagine the future that Gibson would experience as he enlisted to become one of the few, the proud and the brave.

After twenty-two years as one of the few, Gibson experienced true pride in having served among the undeniably brave.

In the dangerous city of Karabilah, Iraq on April 14, 2004, Gibson, then a captain and the commander of Company K, 3rd Bn,, 7th Marines, went on patrol with his men of 2nd Squad, 4th Platoon.

WHO WAS JASON DUNHAM?
The carefully chosen squad leader for 2nd Squad was a 22-year-old corporal from the small town of Scio, N.Y., by the name of Jason Dunham.

“Cpl. Dunham was the quintessential Marine,” Gibson said. “He was the square-jawed, muscular all-American man you envision when someone says Marine. He had the character to back up his looks, too. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body.”

He earned respect from his men by example, not by intimidation, Gibson said of his leadership style.

“Cpl. Dunham was the kind of guy you would want your daughter to bring home,” he added.

During the patrol, their battalion commander’s convoy was ambushed nearby. Dunham led his Marines south of the ambushed convoy when vehicles began to flee the scene. As the Marines prepared to stop the vehicles, an Iraqi clad in black jumped from a white sport utility vehicle and attempted to choke Dunham. During the scuffle that ensued, the Iraqi dropped a hand grenade.

THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE
Cpl. Dunham didn’t falter.

In his last conscious act he threw his Kevlar helmet – then himself – on the grenade, absorbing the blast and saving the lives of his fellow Marines who were nearby.

When the smoke cleared, Dunham lay unconscious on the hard dirt road. His Kevlar ripped into two major pieces and countless shreds by the explosion.

When Gibson arrived on scene, he inspected the small cache of weapons retrieved from the vehicles and noticed a piece of Dunham’s Kevlar leaning against the wall of a nearby building. Once he realized what exactly he had found, he and the Marines in the area scoured the street for any scraps of the Kevlar they could find.

Five years have passed since Dunham’s selfless sacrifice to save the lives of his fellow Marines earned him the Medal of Honor and a Navy destroyer bearing his name.

THE DECISION TO DISPLAY
For five years the pieces of Dunham’s Kevlar were stored within the 7th Marine Regiment–until Gibson began collaborating with Deb and Dan Dunham, Cpl. Dunham’s parents, on the proper way to preserve the history of the helmet.

The three of them had to decide either to donate the helmet to the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Quantico, Va., to display the helmet on the quarterdeck of the USS Jason Dunham along with his dress blue uniform, seal the entire thing in the destroyer’s mast or simply to bury it.

“At first we were a little uneasy about the notion of displaying it, due to the graphic nature of the object,” Gibson said. “But I mainly didn’t want the significance of the helmet to become lost. It isn’t just Marine Corps property; it was spiritually transformed to a part of the Marine Corps’ living history.”

Eventually they concluded the best way to ensure the legacy of the Kevlar and the history it represents was to donate most of the helmet to the museum, but to save a single shred to be forever sealed in the mast of the ship that bears Dunham’s name.

Gibson contacted Lin Ezell, the director of the National Museum of the Marine Corps, and coordinated to deliver the helmet to the museum during the same weekend the ship’s Mast-Stepping ceremony was being held.

PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER
As Gibson made his way from the Combat Center to the Marine Corps Museum, he carried with him a simple, locked black case with the combination 0-4-2 which represented Cpl. Dunham’s radio call sign of Kilo 4-2.

The case, which was never out of Gibson’s sight, attracted the attention of curious passengers throughout the trip. Gibson left each inquiring commuter with a new memory as he told them the story of what the simple black case held.

Within the first hour of arriving in Washington, D.C., July 9, Gibson made his way to the Marine Corps War Memorial and spent more than an hour sitting on the steps carefully examining the fragments of Dunham’s helmet-pieces he helped collect from the streets of Karabilah.

THE HANDOVER
After ensuring all the pieces were accounted for, he changed into his desert utility uniform and drove to Marine Corps Base Quantico to pick up Sgt. Mark Dean, one of Cpl. Dunham’s close friends and an Owasso, Okla., native, and the pair made the final leg of the journey to the museum together.

As they entered, they were greeted by Ezell and Owen Conner, the uniforms curator at the museum, and escorted upstairs to complete the exchange. Once upstairs, Gibson recounted the story and shared with the small audience the importance the helmet carried with it.

Once Gibson showed what each piece was and how the puzzle fit together, Gibson and Dean deliberated on which piece of the helmet would be appropriate to bring to the USS Jason Dunham to be forever capsulated in the destroyer’s mast.

TOAST TO A HERO
After ensuring the helmet was in competent hands, the history would be displayed for generations to come, and an appropriate piece had been set aside, the group went to the museum’s “Tun Tavern” and shared a toast.

“It’s been a while,” Dean said emotionally.

“It’s been five damn years,” Gibson replied. “Five damn years.”

After their glasses were drained and their stories shared, Gibson and Dean parted ways once again with promises of reunions to come. They parted with the Kevlar that Cpl. Jason Dunham used to selflessly save his fellow Marines’ lives – but not with Dunham. He will live with them forever in spirit and history.

DVIDS
Story by Pfc. Michael Gams

Jared Monti - Medal of Honor awardee

The Department of Defense announced today the death of two soldiers who were supporting Operation Enduring Freedom. They died in Gowardesh, Afghanistan, on June 21, 2006, when they encountered enemy forces using small arms fire and rocket-propelled grenades during combat operations. Both soldiers were assigned to the 3rd Squadron, 71st Calvary, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry), Fort Drum, N.Y.

Killed were:

Sgt. 1st Class Jared C. Monti, 30, of Raynham, Mass.

Staff Sgt. Patrick L. Lybert, 28, of Ladysmith, Wis.

DoD

Sergeant First Class (SFC) Jared C. Monti, a Military Occupational Specialty 13F Fire Support Specialist, was a Targeting NCO assigned to Headquarters and Headquarters Troop, 3rd Squadron, 71st Cavalry, 10th Mountain Division, Fort Drum, New York. He distinguished himself by acts of conspicuous gallantry above and beyond the call of duty against an armed enemy in Gowardesh, Nuristan Province, Afghanistan.

On 21 June 2006, SFC Monti, then a staff sergeant, was the assistant patrol leader for a 16-man patrol tasked to conduct surveillance in the Gowardesh region. The patrol was to provide up-to-date intelligence, interdict enemy movement and ensure early warning for the squadron’s main effort as it inserted into the province. As nightfall approached, the patrol was attacked by a well organized enemy force of at least 60 personnel. Outnumbered four-to-one, SFC Monti’s patrol was in serious danger of being overrun.

The enemy fighters had established two support-by-fire positions directly above the patrol in a densely wooded ridgeline. SFC Monti immediately returned fire and ordered the patrol to seek cover and return fire. He then reached for his radio headset and calmly initiated calls for indirect fire and close air support (CAS), both danger-close to the patrol’s position. He did this while simultaneously directing the patrol’s fires.

When SFC Monti realized that a member of the patrol, Private First Class (PFC) Brian J. Bradbury, was critically wounded and exposed 10 meters from cover, without regard for his personal safety, he advanced through enemy fire to within three feet of PFC Bradbury’s position. But he was forced back by intense RPG fire. He tried again to secure PFC Bradbury, but he was forced to stay in place again as the enemy intensified its fires.

The remaining patrol members coordinated covering fires for SFC Monti, and he advanced a third time toward the wounded Soldier. But he only took a few steps this time before he was mortally wounded by an RPG. About the same time, the indirect fires and CAS he called for began raining down on the enemy’s position. The firepower broke the enemy attack, killing 22 enemy fighters. SFC Monti’s actions prevented the patrol’s position from being overrun, saved his team’s lives and inspired his men to fight on against overwhelming odds. SFC Monti epitomizes what it means to be an NCO. Because of his personal sacrifice and selfless service to the Army, the men of his patrol are alive today and continue the fight.

SFC Monti’s name will adorn our new Fort Sill Call for Fire Training Center. The “Monti Call for Fire Training Facility” will be used to train future joint fires observers. Sudents will be trained on jointly approved tactics, techniques and procedures in support of Artillery, Naval Surface Fire Support and Aviation. Upon graduation, the students will take with them the knowledge, skills and inspiration the Monti Call for Fire Training Facility provided to fight effectively and win on today’s modern battlefield.

Fires – Ft. Sill publication

Marker honoring Jared Monti at COP Monti

This guy is my son, SFC Jared C. Monti. He died 6-21-06 trying to save the lives of 3 of his fellow soldiers.Brian Bradbury would have survived if the cable lifting him up to the helicopter didn’t snap..he fell to his death. The helicopter pilot lost control due to that mishap & he crashed & died. Jared was shot twice while trying to save his comrads. Patrick was dead before he hit the ground, Jared was killed while trying to retrieve his body. The medic trying to save his life was also killed. He managed to save one soldier his name is Derek. My son did what his does best looking out for his “boys” as he called them. He gave his life to save another and it’s not the first time he risked his life saviing his platoon. He received 2 Bronze Stars for both instances, the first one on his first tour in Afghanistan. I miss him more than words can express, will grieve his loss till the day I die but I have never been so proud.

That’s who this guy was!

Janet Monti
Gold Star Mother

Honnold Forum

Someone You Should Know – Pundit Review

Medal of Honor Awards for July 23 – Castle Argghhh

The Marine Corps commandant said Wednesday that an investigator is reviewing a valor case that, if approved, would yield the first living recipient of the Medal of Honor in the war on terrorism.

“We have a case that I sent an investigating officer out to take a look at on the West Coast that, if proven, I think will prompt me to recommend the Medal of Honor for a living Marine,” Gen. James T. Conway said.

Marine Times

As a general rule, the Silver Star is faster and requires less paperwork to award. The Medal of Honor is often an upgraded award from the Silver Star. Keeping that in mind, here are a few Marine Corps Silver Star winners who might be the “Marine to be named later”.

• Lance Cpl. Moses Cardenas
• Cpl. Ian M. Dollard
• Staff Sgt. Charles M. Evers
• Sgt. Chad Cassady

This is just a small sample of the Marines that may be being considered for our nation’s highest award for valor in combat.

The challenge issued by a flight attendant during a recent commercial air flight seemed innocuous enough: “Name just one of the five Medal of Honor recipients from the current engagements in Afghanistan or Iraq, and get a free drink coupon.”

But the passengers’ response – more specifically, the inability of all but just one to respond – revealed how little the average American knows about its military heroes.

Bombarded by superhero lore almost from birth, many Americans grow to revere fictional heroes as well as sports and celebrity icons. But silence descended over the cabin of a flight bound from Jacksonville, Fla., to Baltimore when the conversation turned to those who had earned the nation’s highest honor for valor – even when a free cocktail hung in the balance.

Dale Shelton, an Annapolis, Md., resident who served five years as a Navy intelligence specialist, was the only passenger to press the button over his seat to beckon the attendant. Shelton’s response: Army Sgt. 1st Class Paul R. Smith, the first Medal of Honor recipient in the global war on terror and in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Smith received the highest military honor for valor posthumously on April 3, 2005, two years to the day after saving more than 100 soldiers in the battle for Baghdad’s airport. His young son and widow accepted the award on his behalf during a solemn White House ceremony.

The flight attendant gave free drink coupons to Shelton, as well as his wife, Jean, and two other traveling companions. Then he returned to crew area to announce over the intercom that only one person had correctly answered the challenge.

This time, the attendant offered a second challenge: “Name an ‘American Idol’ winner.” The cabin lit up like a pinball machine as 43 passengers scrambled to push their attendant call button. Passengers named various Idol winners.

The attendant announced that he wasn’t going to award drink coupons for that answer, telling the passengers that “naming an Idol winner was not worth a free drink,” Shelton recalled.

“He concluded his announcement with the question: ‘What’s wrong with our country when out of 150 passengers, only one can name a Medal of Honor recipient, but 43 can name an American Idol winner?’”

Later during the flight, Shelton shared with the attendant his own frustration over “the current lack of appreciation of our military heroes.”

The attendant asked Shelton if he knew the names of the other four Medal of Honor receipts from the current military operations. Shelton said he was able to name three: Navy Lt. Michael Murphy, Navy Petty Officer 2nd Class Michael Monsoor and Army Spc. Ross McGinness.

All were killed sacrificing themselves to protect their comrades during enemy attacks.

Murphy, a Navy SEAL, died June 28, 2005, trying to save his team members during Operation Red Wing in Afghanistan. Monsoor, also a SEAL, died in Iraq on Sept. 23, 2006, using his body to absorb a grenade blast that likely would have killed two nearby SEALs and several Iraqi soldiers. McGinnis died Dec. 4, 2006, after throwing himself on a hand grenade in Iraq to save four fellow soldiers when insurgents attacked their Humvee.

Shelton said he regretted that he had forgotten the name of Marine Cpl. Jason Dunham. Dunham died April 15, 2004, using his body to shield fellow Marines in Iraq from a hand grenade.

The flight attendant didn’t hold Shelton’s memory lapse against him. “He gave me all the remaining drink coupons he had in his possession and shook my hand,” he said.

DoD
By Donna Miles
American Forces Press Service

Department of Defense site for these heroes

A photo illustration of the Zumwalt-class destroyer USS Michael Monsoor (DDG 1001). The ship will be named after Master-at-Arms 2nd Class Michael Monsoor (SEAL) who was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions during combat on Sept. 29, 2006 in Ar Ramadi, Iraq. (U.S. Navy illustration by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Kevin S. O’Brien)