Madam Speaker, on May 28, 2007, millions of Americans across the country recognized the brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice while fighting to protect the citizens and freedom of our great Nation. In recognition of Memorial…
Madam Speaker, on May 28, 2007, millions of Americans across the country recognized the brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice while fighting to protect the citizens and freedom of our great Nation.
In recognition of Memorial Day, LT. Zach Alessi-Friedlander gave an address at a Memorial Day Ceremony at Hillside Cemetery in Wilton, Connecticut. I submit the text of LT. Alessi-Friedlander's remarks to be entered into the Record.
We come together on this solemn occasion to commemorate the
sacrifice and celebrate the legacy of those Soldiers,
Marines, Sailors, and Airmen who have lost their lives while
serving our great Nation.
When the leaders of the Wilton Memorial Day parade
committee--especially Mr. Toothaker and Mr. Brautigam as well
as Mr. Dartley of the VFW--invited me to speak at this
ceremony, I embraced the opportunity because it would give me
a forum through which to speak with you all about service--a
truly timeless value that is integral to the vibrancy of our
society. My purpose here today is to provide a Soldiers'-eye-
view on the value of service--drawn not only from my own
experiences but from those of the extraordinary Soldiers with
whom I have had the great privilege of serving alongside.
Nine years ago, I was 17 years old and a week from my high
school graduation. To me, the world seemed pregnant with
opportunity and possibility. Over much of these last nine
years, my personal journey has been largely defined by
abstract intellectual pursuits--college, internships, and
even a semester of graduate school. But in early 2004, I felt
a growing sense of discomfort. So much was unfolding outside
the classrooms and libraries in which I spent so much of my
time. I was almost 23 and I felt the need to be a part of
something that was larger and more important than me. I then
made the decision to pursue a commission in the Army. At the
time, in response to the queries of friends and family, I
could only describe my motivations in an abstract sense. But
over the last two and half years, the reasons for my decision
to serve have been made clearer through the crucible of
experience.
After attending Basic Training and Officer Candidate
School, I was commissioned as a Field Artillery lieutenant.
Sixty-five years ago, on the conventional battlefields of
World War II, I would have been responsible for planning and
coordinating the artillery, mortars, aerial firepower, and
naval gunfire needed to support my troop commander's scheme
of maneuver. However, the battlefields of Iraq are--at this
stage of the war--decidedly different from their World War II
counterparts. Conventional schemes of maneuver have been
replaced with the unconventional strategies and tactics
needed to manage an elusive and adaptive enemy within an
asymmetric and three-dimensional battlefield. Coalition
Forces are grappling with a multi-faceted insurgency--divided
along different ethno-sectarian and ideological lines. The
fight for key terrain and the push to force the enemy to
formally surrender have been replaced with the fight for the
hearts and minds of the Iraqi local nationals--the people
upon whom the burden of a free and secure Iraq will
ultimately rest.
What I'm talking about is our effort to diversify the scope
of the ``fight'' in order to create a foundation upon which
the Iraqi people can rebuild a society less vulnerable to
virulent strands of militant Islam and sectarian antipathy.
More specifically, we now complement our combat operations
with four additional lines of operation: training Iraqi
Security Forces; promoting local governance; restoring
essential services; and developing the economy. This is a
long, tough, unpredictable process that is at times
frustrating and at other times exhilarating. Over the last
nine months, my troop has been able to develop our sector
through a strategy that depends fundamentally upon earning
the genuine trust of the local nationals living within our
sector. Many of you, I am sure, have heard about many of
these new emphases--especially after the recent
appointment of General David Petreaus as the new theater
commander in Iraq. However, experiencing it on the ground
is a truly perspective-altering experience. My unit's
progress--especially over the past 5 months--has been
startling. In this period, we have poured several million
dollars worth of projects into the small villages dotting
our sector--providing services like trash collection and
replacing dilapidated infrastructure such as a drinking-
water tower and power-line transformers. But our most
successful-civil military initiatives have been those
which have integrated our Soldiers, members of either the
Iraqi Army or Iraqi National Police, and the local
nationals into combined community projects. Examples of
such initiatives include: two medical-assistance visits
during which our medics and doctors were able to provide
medicine, care, diagnoses, and treatment advice to almost
400 local nationals; as well as something called a ``VET
CAP'' during which an Army veterinarian was able to treat
and de-worm 150 sheep and 20 cows.
But, the civil-military initiatives of which I am most
proud are the efforts that have enabled us to promote truly
indigenous forms of self-government. In December, when we
recognized that local nationals residing in our sector were
unwilling to participate in the regional branches of the
Iraqi government--called Nahia and Qada councils--we decided
to host a series of village-level town-hall meetings. At
these meetings, we were able to identify community leaders
with the initiative, technical expertise, and will to
represent the other members of the villages. These town-hall
meetings served as jumping-off points for two major
developments. A group of local nationals in our largest
village now regularly attend the Nahia council meetings,
which allows them to interface with the Iraqi government.
But, perhaps more impressively, this same group created a
Farmers' Cooperative, whose leaders now represent farmers
from throughout our entire area of operations.
But, make no mistake, our unit has been forced to combat an
adaptive, innovative, patient, and committed insurgent threat
intent on disrupting our efforts through a series of
persistent attacks against us and--perhaps more ominously--by
casting a specter of fear over the local-national population
whom we are attempting to secure and whose trust we are
working to earn. Our military has been largely built and
trained to fight high-intensity conflicts using technological
superiority and mobility to combat nation states. My unit is
a cavalry troop composed of field artilleryman, cavalry
scouts, and infantrymen--all of whom were initially trained
to play specific roles in a conventional fight. But, every
day, I am amazed at how our Soldiers have been able to adapt
to the changing nature of the fight.
My preceding remarks were an effort to provide the context
necessary for you all to appreciate the service of the
Soldiers alongside whom I proudly serve. General Robert E.
Lee once described duty--the close cousin of service--as the
most sublime word in the English language. I would argue that
he was trying to explain that duty and service as concepts
are impossible to understand in an abstract intellectual
sense; rather, in order to wrap our minds around this simple
but crucial civic value, we need to discuss specific
examples--and that will be the intent of the balance of my
remarks.
The key to the success that my unit has experienced has
been the influence of our extraordinary non-commissioned
officers. For those of you with prior military experience,
you know that at troop or company levels, NCOs have
dramatically more time in service--and thus experience--than
their commissioned-officer counterparts. Therefore, the key
to a successful unit is to develop a synergy between the NCO
and Officer Corps. Each officer-NCO pair must understand the
role that the other plays in training, planning, and
operations and must then work to complement their counterpart
in every phase of mission preparation and execution. In my
troop, the only Soldiers with previous combat experience are
the NCOs. Two in particular come to mind: SFC Richardson and
SSG Mont-Eton, the platoon sergeant and senior scout for our
2nd platoon--the element whom I would argue has helped to
establish the model by which a counterinsurgency must be
fought. Perhaps the most illuminating parts of my deployment
have come while riding alongside SSG Monty in his truck. Over
the course of any given patrol, he spends time instructing
his gunner on how to more effectively scan the key pieces of
terrain with his optics; teaching his driver on how to scan
the road for the command-wire-IED initiators that are
carefully concealed alongside the routes in our sector; and
positioning his dismount on where he must stand to establish
the most effective security when the platoon gets out of the
trucks. But SSG Monty's true gift is his uncanny ability to
establish rapport with the local nationals upon whose trust
the entire troop depends in order to rebuild the communities
and counter the insurgent threats. Smoking cigarettes and
drinking coffee constantly, SSG Monty can approach any
individual in our sector, and, within a matter of minutes,
they are exchanging stories about their children or talking
about how to improve water flow in a nearby irrigation canal.
Never in my life, not at Columbia nor at Harvard, have I ever
encountered an individual with more practical intelligence--
with the ability to adapt doctrine or theory to a real-world
operating environment, which, in our case, carries life and
death significance. As for SFC Richardson, he is simply a
force of nature. He is the tactical expert upon whom his
platoon leader relies to carefully plan any deliberate
operation. Riding in the 4-truck, the platoon's trail
vehicle, he has managed the evacuation of all Soldiers
injured on patrol with a sense of calm and poise that has
allowed the platoon to address potentially catastrophic
situations with the speed and efficiency needed to ensure the
safety of all involved. The Soldiers in his platoon trust him
implicitly and would literally follow him wherever he decided
to go. He is the most senior Soldier in the entire troop,
with even more years in service than our first sergeant; he
has used this seniority to be the forceful and articulate
voice on all Soldier issues. When his guys are smoked, he
goes to my commander and first sergeant, and tells them the
platoon needs a day of refit . . . and they listen. SFC
Richardson was the one who insisted upon explaining to the
local-national children, who gathered to receive their soccer
balls, why Nick's name had been inscribed on each of their
gifts. Into his leadership style, SFC Richardson has managed
to fold toughness, moral authority, compassion, and
intelligence--or, more specifically, the ability to think
critically about and to respond swiftly to unpredictable and
challenging situations. And then there's the amazing
symbiosis that my commander and first sergeant have been able
to establish. They are the only command pair in my entire
squadron not to have previously deployed to either
Afghanistan or Iraq since combat operations began in those
places in 2001 and 2003, respectively. However, they have not
allowed this relative inexperience to adversely affect our
troop's operations. Rather, they have approached our
campaign plan with a refreshing open-mindedness, rigorous
planning process, and strict attention to detail that have
helped to keep our Soldiers safe and our unit mission
effective.
I have still only spoken in relatively general terms thus
far, but I want to share with you a specific example from our
deployment that I believe demonstrates the courage and
discipline of our Soldiers and, more generally, illuminates
the value of service. In mid-October, after only a month in
our sector, our infantry platoon was conducting dismounted
night-time reconnaissance of a piece of key terrain. The 8-
man dismounted element had just embarked on their patrol when
their senior scout, SSG Hurlbutt, stepped on an anti-tank
mine. He was blown off the ground and sent hurtling 15 feet
through the air into a reed-choked and half-filled irrigation
canal. Without hesitating, the dismounted team leader, SGT
Love, and one of the other members of the patrol, SPC
Conolly, immediately jumped into the canal and extracted--up
its steep and slippery banks--their severely injured platoon
mate--who, between the weight of his body, protective armor,
weapon, and gear weighed more than 300 pounds. While they
administered first aid, the platoon leader, lLT Kimes, who
was the trail man in the patrol, positioned the balance of
the element in a security perimeter and coordinated for the
MEDEVAC. (And, this provides me with an opportunity to praise
again the technical skill and courage of Chief Reeves and the
other MEDEVAC pilots upon us guys on the ground constantly
rely.) Some people may be inclined to attribute the way in
which the ``rock lizards'' were able to handle this situation
to their training, but I am more inclined to attribute it to
their courage and commitment to one another. As for SSG
Hurlbutt, he is an extraordinary Soldier among many
extraordinary Soldiers. Just prior to the deployment, he was
given. the option of deploying late or not deploying at all
in order to care for his wife, who had only recently
recovered from a very serious illness. Despite his concern
for his wife, he declined the offer, understanding that his
previous combat experience and deep knowledge were essential
to helping his platoon transition to operations in theater.
And then, in January, when my commander returned to Fort
Drum, where my unit is based, for his mid-tour leave, he
visited SSG Hurlbutt, who is still recovering from his
injuries. In the months between sustaining the injury and my
commander's visit, SSG Hurlbutt had received skin grafts to
replace the skin and tissue destroyed by the mine's intense
heat and he was undergoing excruciating physical therapy to
recover from the chunk of flesh and muscle that he lost from
his left thigh. Despite all this and despite the fact that he
was barely ambulatory at the time of my commander's visit, he
amazingly started campaigning to return to sector before we
redeployed.
And then there's SPC Jonathan Cadavero. SPC Cadavero was my
good friend and we were in the same company at Officer
Candidate School. Throughout the first half of the course, he
began to have reservations about continuing his pursuit of an
officer's commission--but never once questioned his desire to
serve. After successfully completing the land-navigation
course and receiving top marks on his academic testing and
leadership evaluations, he recognized that he had met and
exceeded the standards required to become an officer. He then
felt that he could leave Officer Candidate School without
feeling that he was dodging a challenge. He decided that he
preferred to fulfill his obligations to the Army as an
enlisted medic rather than as an officer, which meant less
pay and decision-making authority; but, he did not care
about that; he simply wanted to serve his country in Iraq.
I remember having long conversations with him about his
decision in our barracks at Ft Benning. I told him that he
needed to make the decision with which he felt most
comfortable; either way, he would have the opportunity to
serve--a motivation we both proudly shared and embraced.
The next time we met was at Bradley's, the tailor shop
just outside of Ft Drum; we were both having nametapes
sewn on our boonie caps, assault packs, and ruck sacks in
preparation for the deployment of our brigade. We talked
informally about our families; about finally being in the
regular Army after more than a year in various Army
schools; about the long and challenging deployment that
hovered on the horizon. Over the next 6 months, we met
randomly on Camp Striker--at the gym, at the chow hall,
around our living quarters--each time sharing warm
conversation, sometimes about the Army, but usually just
about baseball. On February 27th, while acting as the
platoon medic for a route-clearance element operating in
support of my unit's sister troop, he was killed when an
IED detonated under the truck in which he was riding. This
device was buried deep under the paved surface of the road
on which he was traveling, and, when it detonated, it
completely destroyed his truck and killed all of the
occupants. I remember seeing his name listed among the
casualties. At first, everything seemed to collapse with
the pain I felt for his loss, for his family, friends, and
fellow Soldiers. And then everything seemed to explode in
a rush of memories--wandering through the woods of Ft
Benning in our desperate attempts to find our points on
the land-navigation course or cracking jokes before the
dreaded arrival of our supervisors at the ridiculous
light-out ritual each night. I remember his distinctive
New York accent, his infectious smile, his wit, his
intelligence, his unwavering desire to serve his country
as a Soldier during wartime. His sacrifice and sense of
duty should be an inspiration to his fellow Soldiers and
to the country he proudly served, but these are no comfort
to his family and friends. The memory of his loss is still
too fresh. The loss of each service member sends ripples
of pain throughout communities; those closest to him are
touched in a way that is impossible for most of us to
imagine. Most can sympathize but not really empathize.
This is the fundamental challenge of Memorial Day: once a
year, we have the opportunity to congregate as a community
and as a society to commemorate their sacrifice--but
perhaps more importantly--to celebrate their legacy. I
would encourage everyone to find the name of an individual
Soldier, Marine, Airman, or Sailor, who has lost their
life while serving their country; give that name and the
magnitude of their sacrifice specific attention. This will
help us to humanize the sacrifice that spans generations.
This sacrifice and service connect us all in a tragic but
crucial narrative. Ours is a country built upon the value
of service and it should be celebrated--even if it must be
done with a somber tone and painful heart. I know that on
every Memorial Day from this day forward, I'll take the
opportunity to reflect on the life and sacrifice of SPC
Cadavero.
Rare is this profession of arms for its whole essence is
built upon a foundation of specifically conceptualized values
that are intended to discipline individual Soldiers into a
coherent and selfless team. The only constants that Soldiers
will ever have are the support of their fellow Soldiers, the
value of their service, and the appreciation of the grateful
nation whom they serve. Soldiers have always been asked to
sacrifice their comforts and desires for the sake of the team
and for the mission. Unlike the civilian world, Soldiers
are required to see their commitment through to the end
regardless of the extenuating circumstances that may arise
after making the oath of enlistment or commission. I am
awed by the courage and service of my Soldiers, by their
ability to manage their myriad personal and family
concerns while negotiating the constant threats to their
safety that lurk ominously every time we leave the wire in
Iraq. The purpose of Memorial Day is for our nation to
recognize and express their appreciation for this service,
in general, and the sacrifice of those that have lost
their lives while serving, more specifically. I ask only
that we, as a community, embrace this opportunity to
contemplate seriously what this service and sacrifice have
meant in the development of our country and in the
expression of our shared values.