Tuesday, February 15, 2005

I am a slacker

Well not really. Life has been very complicated and busy for me the past 6 months and unfortunately my blog has suffered for it. I am trying to piece things back together bit by bit so I still might not be posting as regularly as I would like to. Now, I don't want everyone to think that all is lost with me, because it most definately is not. I am in a rebuliding process right now and the future does look pretty bright. So that being said I cannot promise that I will be posting everyday like I have in the past, but I will try to post at least a couple of times a week. Until next time, thanks for stopping by.

Update from Dave in IRAQ

Email from Dave - Jan 30, 05

Dear Dad

Today, the interim Iraqi Government held elections. I am not sure how the media is portraying the day's events; but I thought you might want to know how things went here in Fallujah.

Part of the motivation for the attack on insurgents in Fallujah back in November was to set the conditions for successful elections to be held 30 January. It was understood going into the attack that Fallujah had become a source of instability and violence that radiated to all corners of Iraq. If the insurgent leadership headquarted inside the city was not directly projecting operations to cities as far away as Basrah or Mosul, their activities and overt posture undoubtedly inspired insurgents in other parts of the country to continue.

Once the Marines, Soldiers and Sailors were finally turned loose on the muj in the city, they dealt the enemy a crushing defeat. As I have described to you earlier, one of the most effective weapons the insurgents have employed to date is their propaganda. They lord over the people of Iraq by maintaining a very credible atmosphere of fear and intimidation. However, they also focus their information efforts inward.

When recruiting a 22-year-old Syrian or sustaining the morale of a 19-year-old Saudi, the mantra concerning Fallujah was common: "The Americans will never enter the city. They are afraid to fight us face-to-face and their people will never accept the casualties necessary to remove us from the city." We know this to be true. Their information efforts were very effective and resulted in a brazen defiance among the muj and a life of fear and subjugation among the people.

When the Marines finally took the city, it was a tremendous psychological defeat to the enemy in addition to the obvious tremendous losses in enemy personnel and supplies. The dogged, relentless pursuit lead by the Captains and Sergeants in hunting down the final pockets of enemy inside the city and destroying them in exceptionally close and violent engagements following the main battle further cemented November's losses. It is becoming obvious that the inescapable reality of the insurgents' plight and the foundation of lies upon which they pinned their cause in the end was both obvious to them and to the population that was watching closely from the edges of the city as well.

In the ensuing weeks as the population returned, the Marines have committed an amazing effort to cleaning the city and coexisting with the people. The planning and work that went into November's offensive was extensive but now it pales in comparison to the effort that has been made to make the city livable again while building a relationship with the people of Fallujah themselves.

The Marines' days have been spent mentoring new Iraqi soldiers, removing debris, delivering potable water to tanks placed throughout the city, organizing civic leadership, and a myriad of other tasks you would never expect of young men who fought so hard to take the city at great personal cost. However, even as these humanitarian efforts continue daily, the Marines know that the enemy wants nothing more than to re-enter the city and return it to the violent abyss where it resided at the beginning of November. It is impossible for me to put into words how these young men are able to travel the spectrum of violence and emotions every day and simply continue to deliver without failure. It is easy to become cynical and believe that the local people do not appreciate the positive aspects of the effort. Today, it appears as if they do.

During the weeks leading up to the elections, the enemy had been relentless in his threats and posturing against the people and has made it very clear that anyone who attempted to vote would be killed. Compared to the average American, the Iraqi people have lived a life of extreme violence and fear. Because of this, the insurgents' threats did not fall on deaf ears.

In all honesty, we expected a very light turnout at the polls in Fallujah. To provide just a couple of specific examples of the terror campaign that has been ongoing in this area consider the following:

Several days ago, in the area just south of the city, Marines found a local sheik dead in the road. His hands were tied behind his back and he had been shot from behind. On his body, a rock was placed over a note that read that the sheik was cooperating with coalition forces and that anyone else who did so would meet the same fate.
Down the road in Ramadi, two Iraqi Solders were kidnapped, beheaded and left in the street. Their heads were placed on their bodies and cigarettes had been put in their mouths.
Rumors of huge explosions and suicide attacks on polling places were widely circulated.
With this backdrop in mind, today's elections began shortly after dawn. Even though the days for the Marines here tend to run together, this morning was different. By dawn, the Regiment had surged and both Iraqi Soldiers and Americans canvassed the streets.

Five polling places were established inside Fallujah. As the polling stations opened, trucks of Iraqi Soldiers began arriving to vote at one of the primary stations. The enthusiasm of the Iraqis surprised the Marines. Watching them move past the Marines and Iraqis on the perimeter of the site and then reemerge from the polling tent, the best description I can offer was "joyful." They got it. As bleak as things have seemed to them over the past two years, this morning was a tangible reward for their personal courage and sacrifice.

As the locals saw the Iraqi Soldiers emerging from the polling tent and exchanging handshakes with the Marines, they began to slowly emerge from their houses. The Regimental CO ordered the PSYOP trucks to begin broadcasting wake up calls extolling the locals that the polling centers were open and secure and that the people should come out and vote.

Seeing must have been believing because before we knew it, they were emerging from their houses and moving into line to vote. The first person I actually saw go into the polling tent was a woman who came out alone. Others soon followed. Even after everything the Marines have seen, it was an amazing site.

Nearby, the Marines were walking through a recently established open-air market on a street corner. People gathered around and informal conversations began between them and the Marines. This same intersection had been a muj strong point just weeks before. This morning, Marines and locals were on the same intersection shooting the breeze as elections were taking place down the block. As the day went on, more and more people came out to vote. The positive atmosphere seemed to build.

Just a few images as the day progressed:

HMMWV"s parked in the median of the main avenue through town with Marines hanging out talking with Iraqis as they walked to the polling center.
A few people actually seeking Marines, Soldiers and Sailors out on the street and thanking them relating that it was the first time in their lives their votes meant something.
A truck pulling up to a polling site overflowing with Iraqi Soldiers going to vote. The Soldiers were actually singing in the back of the truck and then jogging through the wire to get to the polling station.
Kids going through the polling centers with their parents.
Kids lined up outside the polling centers to watch.
Marines on rooftops overwatching the polling centers taking in the first free elections in an area they literally just fought through weeks before.
The RCT SgtMaj attaching a full sized Iraqi flag to the back of his vehicle and driving through the city being greeted by thumbs up and shouts of encouragement from both the Iraqi soldiers and citizens.
Of course not everyone voted in Fallujah today but just under eight thousand people did. No one expected such a turn out and any voting in Fallujah at all seemed like fantasy just three months ago.

There are no delusions here as the insurgency is still alive and well and the Marines know that Fallujah remains a dangerous place. There is still much work to be done. Just outside the city, guys were still fighting their tails off today. But for one day in Fallujah it was great to watch the Marines and Iraqi Soldiers enjoy a little success that they sacrificed so much to earn.

Tomorrow will probably be back to business as usual. However, even after all that the Marines have seen and been through you could see it on their faces - Today was a good day.

See you soon,


Click on the link to see the source. The Green Side

Born in Iraq, raised in America

Born in Iraq, raised in America
Stryker Brigade Soldier's passion to help comes from his past

QAYARRAH, Iraq - Pfc. Husam Razaq Almusowi was born in Iraq, but raised in Dearborn, Mich. When asked: Where are you from, he replies "that's a difficult question." According to his fellow Soldiers in the 5th Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment, Almusowi's journey to become an American Soldier is an unforgettable tale of courage and sacrifice.
A young boy
Born in the southern Iraq city of Samawi, Almusowi lived the life of a prince. His room was covered in marble and his peers treated him like a god. In the Arabic culture, the name Almusowi is of great prominence. All Almusowis are thought to be descendents of the Islam Prophet Mohammed.
Even as a child, grown men would stand to their feet when Almusowi walked into a room and call him sir. "My family name garners great respect from Muslims, both the Shia and Sunnis," he said.
His father commanded a tank division for the Iraqi army, a position that contributed to the reverence of the Almusowi name. Although he was a brigadier general in Saddam's army, Almusowi's father did not believe in Saddam Hussein's leadership.
"My father never had a bad thought of any man except for Saddam," he said. "All I knew about Saddam was that he was not good for Iraq."
Almusowi's father knew a lot about Saddam Hussein and he didn't hide his feelings about the former dictator. Weeks before the first Gulf War in 1991, he and several other men attempted to overthrow Hussein's regime and end the decade of tyranny his people had endured.
Saddam's Republican Guard discovered the general's plan and a judge sentenced Almusowi's father to death. "The judge told my father that he would do him a favor by hanging him while he was young, so he wouldn't sit in prison for the rest of his life," Almusowi said.
On day one of the Gulf War, the United States bombed Iraqi military facilities in Samawi and the prisoners escaped during the chaos. Almusowi was scheduled to be hung on the day he walked out of prison, but he would not see his wife, three boys and two girls for another five months.
The journey
As the bombing continued in the first days of the war, Almusowi could feel the impact of bombs and could see the billowing clouds of smoke from the window of his room.
"I was just a kid," he remembers. "I was too young to know what was going on and too young to be scared."
Escaping the bombs, large groups of Iraqis, mostly women and children, fled to Saudi Arabia, where they hoped to find safety at a refugee camp. Almusowi remembers the journey as if it were yesterday.
"We hitchhiked and walked all the way across the desert," he said. "We camped out in the desert of southern Iraq and in the desert you can't see anything at night. I remember finding a star and didn't know what it was."
When Almusowi awoke, he still had the metal insignia of a star in his hand. The morning light revealed the horror of their surroundings.
"There were dead soldiers all around us and the star was an officer's rank," he said. "We spent the next day burying them and then we continued to move toward the border."
Once they reached Saudi Arabia, the group was lost. "All we saw was desert, but we kept moving, hoping we'd find somebody or one of the camps."
With little water and food, the women and children walked through the endless desert for five days. Then, when it felt like his feet couldn't take another step, Almusowi heard a thumping sound from a distance.
"American Soldiers driving Bradley's found us," he said. "They were so kind to us. My father always spoke highly of the Americans."
Almusowi's first introduction to an American was a U.S. Army Soldier handing him a Meal Ready to Eat (MRE).
"I'll never forget it. I ate the Skittles," he said.
The Soldiers transported Almusowi and his group to Rafah, Saudi Arabia, where he would spend the next 10 months living in tents, away from the only country he knew and separated from his father. He was 11 years old.
The United States
Almusowi can't remember the exact day he was reunited with his father, but he does recall being overwhelmed with emotion.
"When my uncle and father showed up in our camp, I was so happy," he said. "My family was together again."
As he'd done for so many years, Almusowi's father comforted his children, assuring them every thing would be all right. He was right.
Each family at the refugee camp selected a country where they wanted to live. Almusowi's father selected the United States.
"Dad chose the United States because it was like the promised land, where nothing was impossible," Almusowi said.
The day the Almusowi family boarded a plane to the United States was also the first time Almusowi saw the earth from the clouds.
"My first plane ride was for three days all the way around the world," he said.
When Almusowi's feet touched American soil, he began to embrace his new surroundings.
"The first week we were there, a bunch of the Iraqis went to the beach," he said. "It wasn't a culture shock seeing women in bikinis for the first time, but it was definitely different. Iraqi men jumped in the ocean in blue jeans. We were all just so happy to be in the United States."
The Almusowi family moved to Dearborn, Mich., where a large Arabic population resides. Almusowi began to learn English immediately.
"The first thing I saw on television was the show Cops, and the words to the song "Bad Boys" were the first words I ever spoke in English," he said.
The next 11 years of his life would be much different than his first 11. Almusowi became an artist, played soccer for Fordson High School and received a bachelor's degree in history from Michigan State University. He married and witnessed the birth of his child. He was living the American dream as a citizen, yet his homeland remained in shambles.
Returning to Iraq
Almusowi joined the U.S. Army when the United States was threatening war against the regime of Saddam Hussein in an effort to give something back.
"I wanted to give back to the country that gave me so much opportunity and to help the country that gave me life," he said.
In basic training, drill sergeants frequently asked Almusowi if he was ready to go to war in Iraq. Almusowi always said yes, but with a follow up statement.
"I always said we're not at war with Iraq. We are at war with Saddam Hussein, the Ba'ath Party and the terrorists, who do not represent Iraq," he said.
When he re-entered the country seven months ago with the 3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division (Stryker Brigade Combat Team), Almusowi drove through his hometown of Samawi as the convoy headed north.
"During the convoy from Kuwait to Iraq, I was speechless and to this day, can't fully explain what it feels like being back in Iraq," he said. "I absorbed every little thing on the trip - from the rocks to the houses to the people on the streets waving at us."
But the longer he's stayed in his place of origin, the more he realizes his homeland's plight.
"I see so much hunger, pain and destruction," he said. "This is not the Iraq I remember."
As an interpreter, Almusowi does not settle for what he sees. He's in Iraq to make a difference.
On many occasions, Almusowi is the lead interpreter for important meetings between Coalition leaders and top Iraqi government officials. Considering Arabic and English are complex languages with few similarities, his leaders place a lot of faith in his abilities.
"He's a great interpreter and a good kid," said Capt. Matthew Lillibridge, the Iraqi Civil Defense Corps liaison officer for 5-20. "He definitely has a lot more responsibility placed on him than your average private first class."
There are times when Almusowi doesn’t sleep because he's translating letters thought to be written by terrorists. In his spare time, he teaches ICDC soldiers how to read and write Arabic and English. In the town of Qayarrah, Lillibridge said Almusowi has won over every Iraqi he's spoken to.
"He receives instant respect from the Iraqis because he's an Iraqi and an American Soldier," Lillibridge said. "Almusowi is an invaluable asset to our efforts in Iraq because they can see the passion he has for the Iraqi people when he talks to them. He's won the respect of his fellow Soldiers as well for his commitment to the United States."
Almusowi's passion for the present comes from his past.
"I don't want what happened to me to happen to another kid. If I can make a difference in one person while I'm here, I've done my job," he said. "Who knows where I would have ended up if the American Soldiers didn't find us 13 years ago?"
"The way I look at it, I'm doing my duties as a Soldier and a little bit more because I am Iraqi."

Click here to see the source of the story. Born in Iraq, raised in America

A Real Hero

Amputee heading back to battlefield
Fort Carson captain prepares for redeployment, releases book

By Jim Sheeler, Rocky Mountain News
February 14, 2005

FORT CARSON - Inside the place where there is no camouflage, Capt. David Rozelle sat near the pool, dressed only in a swimsuit. He unsheathed his leg from his prosthetic foot and stared at the stump.

"This is the only place that people can see it," he said, as he sat near the water, rubbing the raw skin and atrophied muscle.

"If I go someplace and sit in the hot tub, as soon as they see me take off the prosthetic, I know it's going to happen. I know I'm going to have to tell my story."

It's a tale he's repeated countless times during the past year - a story that begins just before a massive explosion in Iraq and continues as Rozelle struggles to become the first amputee certified by the Army to return to the same battlefield where he was injured. It's a story Rozelle never knew how to end.

"Now, I don't have to tell the story over and over again," Rozelle said, just before slipping into the swimming pool.

"Now I can just tell them, 'Go buy the book.' "

Less than one month before Rozelle returns to Iraq, the 32-year-old will see the release today of his autobiography, Back in Action. As the commander of a troop with the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, however, he has little time to promote the book.

He still has to live through the title.

Chapter 1: The Price of Freedom

As we began rolling, everything exploded. . . . It felt as if I were setting my right foot into soft mud or a sponge. I looked down to see blood and bits of bone squeezing out of the side of my right boot. I gave one big push to dive into the arms of two brave men who ran selflessly into the minefield to save me. . . .

That was the last time I ever used my right foot.

Shortly after moving into his new office at Fort Carson, Rozelle placed a mangled hubcap at the end of his desk. When his Humvee hit the land mine, the chunk of metal landed 100 meters away.

"When someone would come in whining about something I would just look over and stare at it," he said.

By now, the hubcap - along with nearly everything else that usually sits in his office - is in storage, until he returns from Iraq. He is preparing his troops for an early March deployment, having already overseen the shipment of materiel headed for the war zone - from 35-ton Bradley fighting vehicles to dozens of squeaky office chairs.

All that's left now is his personal luggage.

"I'm taking a bag of legs," he said, motioning toward the prosthetics he's collected over the past several months. "I'll take the backup walker, the high activity prosthetic and the runner."

Now back to his predeployment weight, Rozelle looks nothing like the scrawny soldier who returned from the war on crutches. At times, he can bark orders that silence a room. Mostly, however, he commands with humor, cracking jokes with a combination of self-deprecating wit and creative obscenity.

When it comes to his injury, Rozelle remains blunt. If someone tries to speak delicately about the explosion that took his foot, he'll jump in and ask, "Oh, you mean when I was blown up?" When asked how he's doing, he's likely to reply, with a smile, "I'm busier than a one-legged man in a (butt)-kicking contest."

As the countdown continues to deployment there is almost always someone waiting in Rozelle's office, asking him to review administrative papers or answer last-minute questions. On a recent afternoon, the line of soldiers was three deep, with two sergeants hovering just outside the door.

"The pen is, indeed, often mightier than the sword," Rozelle said, shaking his head, scribbling another signature.

Rozelle's computer screen saver is a recent photo taken after he completed a "Half-Ironman" competition (1.2 miles swimming, 56 miles biking and 13.1 miles running) in California. He breaks up each day with exercise: one hour lifting weights in the gym, 40 minutes of swimming and a half-hour of running. He says he's in the best shape of his life.

He also says he has no choice.

"I don't work out every day because I want to be ripped like I was when I was 18," he said. "I do it because it's what you need to do to make these prosthetic devices work."

When wearing his regular prosthetic, he walks with a distinctive hitch in his step. But when he straps on his specially designed spring-action running leg and hits the track, his gait is smooth, rhythmic.

As he jogs off down the track, it is perhaps Rozelle's single defining image:

Even with one foot, he runs better than he walks.

Chapter 3: The War Machine Starts Turning

We were finally issued our deployment orders on Valentine's Day, 2003, sixteen months after 11 September. It was a Friday morning, and Kim and I were enjoying a day off from our regular skiing routine. We had been expecting the call, but not on the day reserved for lovers. . . .

As the countdown nears to deployment, every hour counts. Rozelle's first meeting begins at 6 a.m., with an assembly of his platoon sergeants.

Though his newly assigned regimental headquarters troop likely will not participate in the kinds of missions he led during his first deployment as a tank commander, he knows that the realities of Iraq mean nobody's ever safe.

That also means a new emphasis on training.

"There's a lot more awareness now. And it's made us a better Army. We're better and we're stronger. It's amazing how much better every soldier is," Rozelle said. "Now, even the guy whose job it is to handle re-enlistments has the same level of (concern) as the one who's manning the front gate. It's amazing."

Inside the meetings, the platoon sergeants discuss personnel issues and an upcoming seminar on how to fill out their wills. This time - as soldiers brace for their second tour in three years - Rozelle also told them to keep an ear to family concerns.

"Guys are going to start to screw up because they're stressed about the deployment, they're stressed about their family," Rozelle said. "Continue to be tough on them, but take a good, hard look at what might be going on. The solution might be as simple as, 'Take a day off to go and handle that.' "

After the meeting broke up, more soldiers flooded Rozelle's office. Nearby, 38-year-old 1st Sgt. Rodney Greene - Rozelle's senior adviser - thought back to the captain's first days, as the troops met the man who would lead them into the next battle.

"When he first took over, some of the soldiers may have had concerns about him, saying, 'Man, I don't know about this guy - he's missing a foot.' But as they watch him out there running, they say, 'Man he's in better shape than me.' Now they don't even want to run with him. They know he'll beat them.

"I know a lot of soldiers who were having trouble with physical training, they're now saying, 'If he can do it, then I can.' I think it takes a lot of heart to do what he's doing. And it's instilled a lot of pride in these soldiers."

Chapter 4: In Her Own Words, by Kim Rozelle

At about eight and a half months pregnant, I was waking up early in the morning. I was up that morning watching the news before the Saturday morning cartoons came on. I always liked having cartoons on the television on Saturday mornings. It distinguished the day from the weekdays to me. It was about 8:30 a.m. when I heard the doorbell. . . .

With 18-month-old Forrest Rozelle on her lap, Kim Rozelle sat on her couch, thinking back to the pain that her husband refused to allow anyone else to see.

"He had some real lows, which is understandable - he'd just lost part of his body," Kim Rozelle said.

"He had his moments when he'd get upset and cry. He was most upset that he couldn't (pick up) the baby. That was his biggest disappointment."

She looked down at the boy who was born two weeks after his father returned from the war, the toddler who still treats his father's fake leg as a plaything.

"David said, 'What is Forrest going to think of me without a foot?' I said, 'Well, he's not going to know any different. He may grow up wondering why he has two feet instead of one.' "

Their relationship - and his recovery - has been punctuated by similar conversations, along with plenty of good-natured razzing.

"He goes out all day and he shows what a Superman he is and then he comes home and goes (she assumes a whiny baby voice), 'Oooh, my stump hurts. Could you rub it?' "

If they're both sitting on the couch, Rozelle knows not to ask his wife to fetch him a beer. He knows he'll get The Look instead.

"I'm pretty good at the tough love thing. I have a lot of sympathy for him, but I'm never going to pity him," Kim Rozelle said.

"I never have and I never will."

Chapter 12: My New Mission: Amputee Support

It's never easy to sit down with someone who is blind and is missing both arms and a leg. But I keep going (to Walter Reed Army Hospital) because it is important - for me and them. It has helped me heal, physically and mentally. By challenging those soldiers to stick with their treatment and therapy and prepare for the new world I have discovered, I have become whole.

In the midst of an incredibly hectic day, Rozelle opened up his e-mail and smiled.

"This one's from a 34-year-old with muscular dystrophy," Rozelle said, pointing to the address of a new friend.

"Someone said, 'If you go and visit him and make him an honorary Cavalryman, it will change his life.' It did. There's another kid I'm helping with no legs and no forehead. An awesome, awesome guy."

In the past several months, Rozelle has signed on as a spokesman for several different organizations for people with disabilities - both military and nonmilitary - and often spends his evenings coaching people he's never met.

"What I've had to be careful with is not to get overstretched," he said. "Someone will write me and say, 'My brother was in a car wreck and he's having his leg amputated tomorrow - can you go and speak to him?' It's emotional, and it's difficult to do that over and over again."

In six months, that will be his full-time job. After returning from Iraq, Rozelle is scheduled to move to Washington, D.C., where he will help oversee a new amputee center at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

After visiting the hospital on a monthly basis since his injury - sometimes recruiting soldiers to come skiing with him in Colorado - he's met with nearly 200 amputees from the war in Iraq. He's also learned that not all wounds heal the same.

"In the beginning I just tried to be a commander and command people into getting out of their beds. I've definitely had to adjust that for many soldiers," he said. "Different people are motivated in different ways. Not everyone is motivated with a kick in the (butt). Some people just need time."

In the book, Rozelle deals honestly with the period he spent feeling sorry for himself. He writes of kicking an addiction to morphine that accompanied the amputation and a bout of drinking too much that came with the recovery. Those struggles, along with much of the daily pain, are hidden when he tucks his uniform over his prosthetic.

When people see all that he's achieved - a book deal, a new job, national television exposure - he said they sometimes ignore what he overcomes each day.

"People have actually asked me now, 'Isn't your life better now than before you were injured?' "

He paused. "Just because someone makes the most of something that doesn't mean it's . . . "

He stopped again, allowing his anger to subside.

"I wake up every morning without a foot."

Chapter 10: Fit for Duty

I believe that I will not be hindered in any way from performing all the duties of a cavalry officer. My future assignments do not include any physical activities that I cannot do now. I can fulfill all of the duties associated with my MOS, and am ready to prove them . . .

As he leaves his home on Bayonet Circle, Rozelle passes the Army equivalent of Burma Shave signs posted along the way:

"I will always place the mission first."

"I will never accept defeat."

"I will never quit."

At the end another long day, Rozelle, changed into sweat pants, removed his prosthetic and rubbed the end of his leg.

"It hurts," he said. "Just wearing boots all day can be uncomfortable, but I'm wearing this big prosthetic device. As well as it's made, nothing is comfortable."

As he prepares to return to Iraq, he says he's confident in the mission. Though he's had devastating days since returning - such as the time he learned that the police chief he personally installed was assassinated - he said he sees the recent election as vindication.

Inside his home, he looked at one of the first copies of Back in Action.

"There's so much that's happened even since I finished that one," he said. "So much to come."

With that in mind, he's continued to keep a journal - a book-in-progress that already has a tentative title.

"It will be the sequel," he said. "Back from Action."

About Capt. David Rozelle

• Military honors: Bronze Star with Valor for actions in combat, Purple Heart, Army Commendation Medal (four awards), Army Achievement Medal (three awards)

• Present duty: Command of Regimental Headquarters and Headquarters Troop of the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment based at Fort Carson

• Future duty: Amputee Care Program military administrator at Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, D.C

Copyright 2005, Rocky Mountain News. All Rights Reserved.

Click on the link to see the source. Rocky Mountain News: America At War