-Caveat Lector-
All- Very Good letter by one of the escorts of the soldier who was
killed in 1-10 CAV at JRTC. Read, enjoy, and share with someone. BG
Dear America:
I am writing this letter to extend thanks to all the American
people who still, despite the recent headlines undermining the ethics
and morality of the military, understand that our jobs and way of life
are necessary to preserve the "American" way of life. I once thought
that "America" viewed us as most media portrays us; immoral, unethical,
and uncivilized. My recent travels led me to conclude that the opposite
is true. You, the American people, that honor and respect what we do,
deserve a public "thank you."
Just a few weeks ago, a tragedy embedded itself in the tall
evergreen forests at the Joint Readiness Training Center in Fort Polk,
LA. As a tank slowly slalomed through the trees after sunset on
January 14, 1998, the tank commander fell victim to the inherent
danger of the military. SGT(P) Donald Wayne Slover passed away that
night as he was guiding his tank through the thickest of trees, fog,
and rain. The tank's edge clipped and uprooted a tree, which sent it
crashing to the ground. The medics, arriving on site only minutes
later, felt SGT(P) Slover's last pulse.
As one of two military escorts, I was required to accompany the
remains from the training area to the burial site, ensuring the proper
and unimpaired delivery to the next of kin. The obligation required a
two day journey from Fort Hood, TX, to Williamsburg, KY, via Fort
Polk, LA. Loading, unloading, and transportation of the remains
required our physical presence. This particular trip entailed a three
hour van ride, a connecting flight in Atlanta in route to Knoxville,
and a 1 hour drive to Williamsburg, KY.
Upon boarding our initial flight out of Houston we informed the
flight attendant of our duties. After explaining that it was
necessary for us to depart the plane first upon landing (so as not to
delay the cargo personnel unloading the casket), two gentlemen offered
their seats in the first row of the plane for our last row seats.
This gesture left me speechless. I'm not so sure they even knew our
purpose for having to be first off the plane, but with no questions
immediately sacrificed their front row seats.
After arriving in Atlanta, we were escorted by airport personnel
off the plane and down to the tarmac. Standing in our dress green
uniforms, we watched as the airline employees carefully unloaded the
casket onto the cargo truck. The truck drove off to the departing
gate and we made our way back inside the terminal. We met the cargo
truck at the departure gate and again were escorted down to the tarmac
to supervise the loading of our final flight. Following the loading,
we turned and headed back to the terminal. As we made that walk, I
noticed that we were being watched by the crowd awaiting the outbound
flight. Not thinking much about it at the time, I scurried out of the
cold and awaited the boarding call.
We boarded the plane and again informed the flight attendant of
our duties and departure requirements. The flight was booked, every
seat filled, and she told us that she would make an announcement upon
landing that we were to exit the plane first. Having been on full
flights before, I was for certain that this announcement would be
ignored. Passengers are normally elbow deep in the overhead
compartments as soon as the wheels touch the ground. I was 100%
positive I would be the last person off that flight. But I took my
seat in the back of the plane, my partner 10 rows in front, and with
all of my military skills tried to devise a plan that could project me
to the front of that plane upon landing. I concluded that even
generals would have a rough time planning such an operation.
As the plane touched down in Knoxville, the flight attendant gave
the standard "keep your seat-belts fastened until the captain turns
off the seat-belt sign" announcement. She then led into the fact that
two military escorts were on-board and that everyone must remain in
their seats until we departed the plane. The plane parked and to my
astonishment, not a soul moved. I'd never witnessed such absolute
silence in my life. Many of the passengers turned their heads to the
rear of the plane but not a sound was made as myself and the other
escort donned our jackets, grabbed our bags, and headed down the
aisle. I realized then that all eyes were on us. As we neared the
exit an older gentleman leaned toward us and broke the silence with
something I will never forget, "God bless you both." he said.
I am, sir, most truly blessed. I have been afforded the
opportunity to work alongside some of the greatest sons and daughters
of our nation. We know and understand that each day presents the
possibility of injury and/or death and we take all precautions to
prevent them. But we sacrifice that possibility because you depend on
us. We train through the roughest of conditions, with minimum sleep
and limited resources, anywhere at anytime, to ensure we are always
ready. We, sir, are most honored that you entrust us to defend your
country.
So I'm writing this letter to say thanks. Thank you Delta
Airlines, thank you gentlemen for your seats, thank you sir for your
blessings, and thank you America for your support. You see... we as
soldiers don't expect you to understand the ways in which we live,
train, and fight; we just ask for a thank you from time to time. A
little appreciation from the people we're defending weighs more than a
chestful of awards and medals.
SGT(P) Donald Wayne Slover gave his life training to defend the
very code of morality and ethics he exemplified and believed in.
SGT(P) Slover believed in the Army and his country. I worked
alongside SGT(P) Slover for over a year. He was good at his job and
he loved it. He never complained and always did what was asked of
him. SGT(P) Slover always maintained the courage of his convictions.
I hope he lied to rest knowing he was appreciated. If not, we failed
as a nation and we owe it to him.
SGT(P) Slover...thank you! You will be missed!
Daniel Ashley
1-10 Cavalry
READY AND FORWARD
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