Posted on 11/14/2004 7:08:16 PM PST by Flavius
FALLUJAH, Iraq - Capt. Sean Sims was up early Saturday, looking at maps of Fallujah and thinking of the day's battle. His fingers, dirty and cracked, traced a route that snaked down the city's southern corridor.
"We've killed a lot of bad guys," he said. "But there's always going to be some guys left. They'll hide out and snipe at us for two months. I hope we've gotten the organized resistance."
Sims, a 32-year-old from Eddy, Texas, commanded his Alpha Company without raising his voice. His men liked and respected him. When faced with a broken down vehicle or rocket propelled grenades exploding outside, he'd shake his head a little and say, in his mellow drawl, "We'll be OK. This'll work out."
When he noticed that one of his soldiers, 22-year-old Arthur Wright, wasn't getting any care packages from home, Sims arranged for his wife, a school teacher, to have her students send cards and presents.
Sitting in a Bradley Fighting Vehicle that was pocked by shrapnel from five days of heavy fighting, Sims figured he and his men - of the 1st Infantry Division's Task Force 2-2 - had maybe three or four days left before returning to base.
They were in southwest Fallujah, where pockets of hardcore gunmen were still shooting from houses connected by labyrinths of covered trench lines and low rooftops.
A CNN crew came by, and Sims' men led them around the ruins, showing them the bombed-out buildings and bodies of insurgents that had been gnawed on by neighborhood dogs and cats.
The father of an infant son, Sims was still trying to get over the death of his company's executive officer, Lt. Edward Iwan, a 28-year-old from Albion, Neb., who'd been shot through the torso the night before with an RPG.
"It's tough. I don't know what to think about it yet," he said slowly, searching for words. "All of this will be forever tainted because we lost him."
Shaking off the thought, he threw on his gear and went looking for houses to clear.
A group of rebels was waiting. They'd been sleeping for days on dirty mats and blankets, eating green peppers and dates from plastic tubs. They spied on soldiers who occupied nearby houses without knowing the enemy was so close, watching and waiting.
When Sims and his men came through the front door, gunfire raged for a few minutes. Two soldiers were hit near the shoulder and rushed out by the man next to them.
Crouching by a wall outside, Sgt. Randy Laird screamed into his radio, "Negative, I cannot move, we're pinned down right now! We have friendlies down! Friendlies down!"
The 24-year-old from Lake Charles, La., crouched down on a knee, sweating and waiting for help.
A line of troops ran up, taking cover from the bullets. They shot their way into the house.
Sims lay on a kitchen floor, his blood pouring across dirty tile. An empty tea pot sat on nearby concrete stairs. A valentine heart, drawn in red with an arrow through it, perched on the cabinet.
His men gasped. There was no life in his eyes.
"He's down," Staff Sgt. Thorsten Lamm, 37, said in the heavy brogue of his native Germany.
"Shut the (expletive) up about him being dead," yelled back Sgt. Joseph Alvey, 23, of Emid, Oklahoma. "Just shut the (expletive) up."
The men sprinted to a rubble-strewn house to get a medic.
The company's Iraqi translator, who goes by Sami, was waiting. He asked, "Is he in there? Is he there?"
He tried running out of the door with his AK-47 ready. As men held him back, he fell down against a wall, crying into his hands.
When the troops rushed back, they lifted Sims' body into a pile of blankets and carried it into the closest Bradley.
Six soldiers and a reporter piled in after, trying not to step on the body.
In Baghdad, interim Minister of State for national security Qasim Daoud had announced that the city of Fallujah was now under control.
In the surrounding neighborhood, troops furious at the news of their fallen leader called in revenge, in the form of a 2,000 pound bomb airstrike and a storm of 155 millimeter artillery shells. A mosque lost half a minaret, its main building smoldering in fire and smoke.
In the back of the Bradley with Sims' body, no one spoke.
The only sound was Wright sobbing in the darkness.
RIP Sean
GOD rest his soul
God bless all the brave fighting men lost in Fallujah and elsewhere.
"words can't express, only my tears."
I second that.
I went to High School with Sean in Seoul, Korea. We were all military brats and despite different social groups, we all knew each other pretty well. Sean was a good guy, a great soccer player, and apparently a well-loved commander.
I'm proud to say I knew him and proud of his service to the country
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/ABPub/2004/11/14/2002090866.jpg
(That's Sean in the middle)
-Bill Benedict III
Was thinking this morning -- If terrorists use a WMD against a city in the US what will the reaction be? If we cannot prove 100% that X or Y did it. Will we escalate tactics to the nuclear level and against who or will we keep doing this house to house junk? Its getting frustrating watching our people die and the media gleefully turn each death in to a reason to surrender turning this in to their picture perfect version of a Vietnam. No doubt they've already found a future Presidential candidate out of this.
Unfortunately, until this earth passes away, good will always combat evil. It just comes in different forms through the ages, and also remains the same.
Thank God this life is only temporary, we won't have this
%$@#$$ in heaven! :) Until then, we must fight the good fight.
God bless!
Fightin' Texas Aggie, Class of '94.
Sounds like we lost another great one.
Damn.
"THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD"
By Theodore O'Hara
The muffled drums sad roll has beat
The soldier's last Tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
But glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved one's left behind;
No vision of tomorrow’s strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn nor screaming fife,
At dawn shall call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed;
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow;
And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
Are free from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shouts are past;
Nor war's wild note, nor glory's peal,
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture of the fight.
Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead,
Dear as the blood you gave,
No impious footstep here shall tread
The heritage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While fame her record keeps,
Or honor points the hallowed spot
Where valor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell
When many a vanquished age hath flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor time's remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory's light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
The night's a trifle chilly and the stars are very bright,
a heavy dew is falling but the tent is rigged a'right
you may rest your bones till morning,
but, should you chance to wake,
give me a call about the time
that daylight starts to break
---Harry "Breaker" Morant, 1902
While I was reading this story I was reminded of the movie "Bridges of Tok Ri", where the Adminral is sitting in his command chair, when he states "Where do we get men such as these, where indeed where do we find these men" [or to that effect]
My & my famlies prayers go to this man, his family & his command!
words can't express, only my tears.
ditto
thank you. you are now the only FReeper quoted on my FR homepage.
Wow! You honor me...thank you.
I guess we all look for reasons why soldiers like this one sacrifice a life with their loved ones in order to fight a war they didn't begin. The simplest reasons are usually the best.
(Is this my A co.????)
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