Showing 520 posts tagged KIA

MOH recipient embodies Warrior Ethos.
(Article by Gregg Zoroya, USA Today, 15 APR 2014. Source.)
The voice from a distant mountain ambush in Afghanistan left U.S. commanders glued to their radios in 2007. A 20-year-old paratrooper, dead and dying Americans all around him, was telling the world what was happening and calling for help.
Kyle White, who the White House announced Tuesday will receive the Medal of Honor in a ceremony May 13, was a key lifeline for those in his patrol still alive, scattered along a cliffside trail snaking along a river near the border with Pakistan.
White will be only the seventh living recipient of the Medal of Honor from either the Iraq or Afghanistan Wars. His will be the 14th awarded from the conflicts to those living or dead.
Six Americans were killed in the ambush Nov. 9, 2007, along with three Afghan National Army soldiers. All of the other eight U.S. soldiers were wounded.
"I was 100% certain I was going to die that day," says White, who suffered a mild concussion from two nearby explosions.
More than six years passed before the decision to give him the vaunted award — a long period even by the measured pace the Pentagon normally takes.
White says he always knew that receiving a Medal of Honor could change his life. The thought of it brought mixed feelings — humbled by the recognition but sorrowful over the terrible cost it represents.
The only child of a couple employed by the Boeing aircraft manufacturer, Kyle White grew up in Bonney Lake, Wash., in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains and enlisted in the Army shortly after graduating from high school.
He left the Army in 2011, and last year, he obtained a bachelor of science degree with a major in finance from the University of North Carolina-Charlotte. Now 27, he was hired in January by the Royal Bank of Canada in Charlotte as an investment analyst.
The battle for which White is being honored was a textbook ambush by an enemy that vastly outnumbered the Americans and their Afghan comrades. Between firing his rifle, scrambling to retrieve wounded comrades and having his thoughts scrambled by two close explosions, White told commanders what was happening, according to an Army account.
"All of Afghanistan was listening to his call sign, Charlie One Six Romeo," says Col. William Ostlund, then-commander of the battalion in which White served as a specialist.
"So when his platoon leader was killed, Charlie One Six Romeo was instrumental in controlling every single thing, from the fixed-wing bombers to the helicopter attack to the indirect (mortar and artillery) fire to treating casualties," Ostlund says.
Fourteen Americans and a squad of Afghan National Army soldiers were attacked while strung out single file along a narrow trail devoid of cover. Scores of Taliban fighters crouched on the opposite side of the valley or were concealed ahead down the trail or on the ridge above. They opened fire at 3:30 p.m. as the setting sun was in the soldiers’ eyes. Many of the attackers were in shadows, all but invisible to the Americans.
The Taliban even videoed the action so they could turn it into a propaganda film. But the battle all but escaped notice in American media.
The battle became known as the Bella Ambush, named after the outpost where the soldiers were headed that afternoon.
Events leading to the ambush actually began months earlier. White was with the 1st Platoon, Chosen Company of 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry.
During the summer of 2007, the platoon was based at a distant outpost near the village of Aranas, high in the Hindu Kush mountains. In August, the paratroopers of 1st Platoon came under attack at their base by about 100 Taliban fighters who overran nearly half the fort.
Half the 22 Americans were wounded. The platoon commander, 1st Lt. Matthew Ferrara, earned a Silver Star after calling in an airstrike on top of his position, killing the Taliban commander leading the attack.
That outpost near Aranas was abandoned in October, but Ferrara wanted to reconnect with the elders in Aranas and led a patrol up from Bella the night of Nov. 8.
He met with them Nov. 9 but grew suspicious that a Taliban attack might be forming and ordered his patrol to hike back toward Bella that afternoon. They were en route when the ambush occurred.
Ferrara, 24, a West Point graduate from Torrance, Calif., died carrying a list of what the elders wanted for the winter — fuel and blankets — tucked in his pocket, Ostlund says. Ferrara was posthumously promoted to captain.
White was his radio man.
"The whole valley erupted," White remembers. "They had us in this perfect spot."
Paratroopers who weren’t killed outright charged into enemy fire or tumbled off the path down the steep mountainside to reach the valley 50 to 100 yards below. Some were blown off the cliff by rocket-propelled grenades, Ostlund says.
When the shooting started, White was near a gnarled, juniper-like tree that offered concealment but no protection from enemy fire. White huddled there, working feverishly to stem the blood gushing from a shoulder wound to Spc. Kain Schilling.
Thirty feet behind them on the trail, Marine Sgt. Phillip Bocks, 28, of Troy, Mich., who was training the Afghan soldiers, was sitting upright on the ground, shot through the leg and chest, blood coming out of his mouth.
He tried crawling to reach White and Schilling but couldn’t manage it.
"The air was really hot and hostile," Schilling recalls. "There are a lot of different sounds, you get your cracks, and the whips, the real close-like zingers when they’re dialing in on you."
White came to Bocks.
"I remember thinking to myself, all right, I’m not going to make it through this," White recalls. "So I’m going to at least try to help somebody until that happens."
Schilling, who lay beneath the tree canopy, recalls how White ran to Bocks as bullets ricocheted off broken shale at White’s feet creating an aura of sparks.
"It would almost be a cool sight if it wasn’t so deadly," Schilling says. "I was absolutely sure that he was going to die."
Each time White made his way toward Bocks, Taliban fighters concentrated their fire on him. Fearing that Bocks would be wounded again, White pulled back to the tree but returned again and again to finally drag Bocks to the canopy of leaves.
"Everywhere around my feet, through my uniform, it was just rounds coming in everywhere," White says. "You could feel it, the pressure of the round going by."
Bocks was wounded in the chest and right leg. Though White placed a tourniquet above the leg wound, he could tell there was serious internal damage from the chest wound.
"I don’t think I’m going to make it through this one," the Marine said. He died shortly thereafter.
Schilling was hit a second time, this time through his left leg. White pulled his belt off to use as a second tourniquet, yanking it tight.
Then the radio man crawled back out into the open to reach Ferrara, who had collapsed several feet up the trail. He found his platoon commander dead.
He said he needed to notify the world about what had gone wrong.
White’s own radio was shot up by gunfire. Schilling’s radio also was also out of action. White retrieved Bocks’ radio.
"I was bringing it to my ear. A bullet went right though the hand mike and just blew it out of my hand," he recalls.
But he managed to activate it and establish radio contact with commanders, summoning artillery support, aircraft and rescue personnel.
Air evacuations that required hoisting dead and wounded up to hovering medevac helicopters were not possible until after dark.
Other heroism that day included the actions of then-Staff Sgt. James Takes. He ordered his men down the mountainside while providing covering fire, then followed them, pausing to help a wounded soldier despite being shot through both arms, according to an award citation. Takes received a Distinguished Service Cross, the second-highest valor award. Conrad Begaye, , another staff sergeant in the patrol, received the Silver Star for heroism after establishing radio contact and assisting with directing support fire and rescue.
White suffered a mild traumatic brain injury from the close blast of an RPG and then, minutes later, the explosion of an incoming, 120mm mortar round from U.S. forces trying to suppress the enemy attack.
He was diagnosed later with post-traumatic stress disorder but says he copes with the symptoms through exercise.
He still carries in his face bullet fragments from an AK-47 round that shattered on a rock in front of him.
Besides Ferrara and Bocks, other American dead were Sgt Jeffrey Mersman, 23, of Parker Kan.; Cpl. Lester Roque, 23, of Torrance, Calif.; Spc. Joseph Lancour, 21, of Swartz Creek, Mich.; and White’s best friend in the platoon, Cpl. Sean K.A. Langevin, 23, of Walnut Creek, Calif.
The battle lasted more than 20 hours, from the opening volley until the last dead American was recovered. High-res

MOH recipient embodies Warrior Ethos.

(Article by Gregg Zoroya, USA Today, 15 APR 2014. Source.)

The voice from a distant mountain ambush in Afghanistan left U.S. commanders glued to their radios in 2007. A 20-year-old paratrooper, dead and dying Americans all around him, was telling the world what was happening and calling for help.

Kyle White, who the White House announced Tuesday will receive the Medal of Honor in a ceremony May 13, was a key lifeline for those in his patrol still alive, scattered along a cliffside trail snaking along a river near the border with Pakistan.

White will be only the seventh living recipient of the Medal of Honor from either the Iraq or Afghanistan Wars. His will be the 14th awarded from the conflicts to those living or dead.

Six Americans were killed in the ambush Nov. 9, 2007, along with three Afghan National Army soldiers. All of the other eight U.S. soldiers were wounded.

"I was 100% certain I was going to die that day," says White, who suffered a mild concussion from two nearby explosions.

More than six years passed before the decision to give him the vaunted award — a long period even by the measured pace the Pentagon normally takes.

White says he always knew that receiving a Medal of Honor could change his life. The thought of it brought mixed feelings — humbled by the recognition but sorrowful over the terrible cost it represents.

The only child of a couple employed by the Boeing aircraft manufacturer, Kyle White grew up in Bonney Lake, Wash., in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains and enlisted in the Army shortly after graduating from high school.

He left the Army in 2011, and last year, he obtained a bachelor of science degree with a major in finance from the University of North Carolina-Charlotte. Now 27, he was hired in January by the Royal Bank of Canada in Charlotte as an investment analyst.

The battle for which White is being honored was a textbook ambush by an enemy that vastly outnumbered the Americans and their Afghan comrades. Between firing his rifle, scrambling to retrieve wounded comrades and having his thoughts scrambled by two close explosions, White told commanders what was happening, according to an Army account.

"All of Afghanistan was listening to his call sign, Charlie One Six Romeo," says Col. William Ostlund, then-commander of the battalion in which White served as a specialist.

"So when his platoon leader was killed, Charlie One Six Romeo was instrumental in controlling every single thing, from the fixed-wing bombers to the helicopter attack to the indirect (mortar and artillery) fire to treating casualties," Ostlund says.

Fourteen Americans and a squad of Afghan National Army soldiers were attacked while strung out single file along a narrow trail devoid of cover. Scores of Taliban fighters crouched on the opposite side of the valley or were concealed ahead down the trail or on the ridge above. They opened fire at 3:30 p.m. as the setting sun was in the soldiers’ eyes. Many of the attackers were in shadows, all but invisible to the Americans.

The Taliban even videoed the action so they could turn it into a propaganda film. But the battle all but escaped notice in American media.

The battle became known as the Bella Ambush, named after the outpost where the soldiers were headed that afternoon.

Events leading to the ambush actually began months earlier. White was with the 1st Platoon, Chosen Company of 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry.

During the summer of 2007, the platoon was based at a distant outpost near the village of Aranas, high in the Hindu Kush mountains. In August, the paratroopers of 1st Platoon came under attack at their base by about 100 Taliban fighters who overran nearly half the fort.

Half the 22 Americans were wounded. The platoon commander, 1st Lt. Matthew Ferrara, earned a Silver Star after calling in an airstrike on top of his position, killing the Taliban commander leading the attack.

That outpost near Aranas was abandoned in October, but Ferrara wanted to reconnect with the elders in Aranas and led a patrol up from Bella the night of Nov. 8.

He met with them Nov. 9 but grew suspicious that a Taliban attack might be forming and ordered his patrol to hike back toward Bella that afternoon. They were en route when the ambush occurred.

Ferrara, 24, a West Point graduate from Torrance, Calif., died carrying a list of what the elders wanted for the winter — fuel and blankets — tucked in his pocket, Ostlund says. Ferrara was posthumously promoted to captain.

White was his radio man.

"The whole valley erupted," White remembers. "They had us in this perfect spot."

Paratroopers who weren’t killed outright charged into enemy fire or tumbled off the path down the steep mountainside to reach the valley 50 to 100 yards below. Some were blown off the cliff by rocket-propelled grenades, Ostlund says.

When the shooting started, White was near a gnarled, juniper-like tree that offered concealment but no protection from enemy fire. White huddled there, working feverishly to stem the blood gushing from a shoulder wound to Spc. Kain Schilling.

Thirty feet behind them on the trail, Marine Sgt. Phillip Bocks, 28, of Troy, Mich., who was training the Afghan soldiers, was sitting upright on the ground, shot through the leg and chest, blood coming out of his mouth.

He tried crawling to reach White and Schilling but couldn’t manage it.

"The air was really hot and hostile," Schilling recalls. "There are a lot of different sounds, you get your cracks, and the whips, the real close-like zingers when they’re dialing in on you."

White came to Bocks.

"I remember thinking to myself, all right, I’m not going to make it through this," White recalls. "So I’m going to at least try to help somebody until that happens."

Schilling, who lay beneath the tree canopy, recalls how White ran to Bocks as bullets ricocheted off broken shale at White’s feet creating an aura of sparks.

"It would almost be a cool sight if it wasn’t so deadly," Schilling says. "I was absolutely sure that he was going to die."

Each time White made his way toward Bocks, Taliban fighters concentrated their fire on him. Fearing that Bocks would be wounded again, White pulled back to the tree but returned again and again to finally drag Bocks to the canopy of leaves.

"Everywhere around my feet, through my uniform, it was just rounds coming in everywhere," White says. "You could feel it, the pressure of the round going by."

Bocks was wounded in the chest and right leg. Though White placed a tourniquet above the leg wound, he could tell there was serious internal damage from the chest wound.

"I don’t think I’m going to make it through this one," the Marine said. He died shortly thereafter.

Schilling was hit a second time, this time through his left leg. White pulled his belt off to use as a second tourniquet, yanking it tight.

Then the radio man crawled back out into the open to reach Ferrara, who had collapsed several feet up the trail. He found his platoon commander dead.

He said he needed to notify the world about what had gone wrong.

White’s own radio was shot up by gunfire. Schilling’s radio also was also out of action. White retrieved Bocks’ radio.

"I was bringing it to my ear. A bullet went right though the hand mike and just blew it out of my hand," he recalls.

But he managed to activate it and establish radio contact with commanders, summoning artillery support, aircraft and rescue personnel.

Air evacuations that required hoisting dead and wounded up to hovering medevac helicopters were not possible until after dark.

Other heroism that day included the actions of then-Staff Sgt. James Takes. He ordered his men down the mountainside while providing covering fire, then followed them, pausing to help a wounded soldier despite being shot through both arms, according to an award citation. Takes received a Distinguished Service Cross, the second-highest valor award. Conrad Begaye, , another staff sergeant in the patrol, received the Silver Star for heroism after establishing radio contact and assisting with directing support fire and rescue.

White suffered a mild traumatic brain injury from the close blast of an RPG and then, minutes later, the explosion of an incoming, 120mm mortar round from U.S. forces trying to suppress the enemy attack.

He was diagnosed later with post-traumatic stress disorder but says he copes with the symptoms through exercise.

He still carries in his face bullet fragments from an AK-47 round that shattered on a rock in front of him.

Besides Ferrara and Bocks, other American dead were Sgt Jeffrey Mersman, 23, of Parker Kan.; Cpl. Lester Roque, 23, of Torrance, Calif.; Spc. Joseph Lancour, 21, of Swartz Creek, Mich.; and White’s best friend in the platoon, Cpl. Sean K.A. Langevin, 23, of Walnut Creek, Calif.

The battle lasted more than 20 hours, from the opening volley until the last dead American was recovered.

Curator’s Choice, JUN 2012: Eyes of the dead.
soldierporn:

life:

On June 27, 1969, LIFE published a story under the headline, “The Faces of the American Dead in Vietnam: One Week’s Toll.”  Inside, across 10 funereal pages, LIFE published picture after picture and name after name of 242 young men killed in Vietnam.
Here, a look inside the issue.

Reader comments, feedback from the issue (from the link above):


Your story was the most eloquent and meaningful statement on the wastefulness and stupidity of war I have ever read. — From a reader in California
Certainly these tragic young men were far superior to the foreign policy they were called upon to defend. — From a U.S. Marine Corps Captain (resigned)
I feel you are supporting the antiwar demonstrators who are traitors to this country. You are helping them and therefore belong to this group. — From a reader in Texas
I cried for those Southern black soldiers. What did they die for? Tar paper shacks, malnutrition, unemployment and degradation? — From a reader in Ohio
While looking at the photographs I was shocked to see the smiling face of someone I used to know. He was only 19 years old. I guess I never realized that 19-year-olds have to die. — From a reader in Georgia
I felt I was staring into the eyes of the 11 troopers from my platoon who were killed while fighting for a cause they couldn’t understand — From a Marine second lieutenant in New Jersey who had commanded a rifle platoon in Vietnam


High-res

Curator’s Choice, JUN 2012: Eyes of the dead.

soldierporn:

life:

On June 27, 1969, LIFE published a story under the headline, “The Faces of the American Dead in Vietnam: One Week’s Toll.”

Inside, across 10 funereal pages, LIFE published picture after picture and name after name of 242 young men killed in Vietnam.

Here, a look inside the issue.

Reader comments, feedback from the issue (from the link above):

Your story was the most eloquent and meaningful statement on the wastefulness and stupidity of war I have ever read. — From a reader in California

Certainly these tragic young men were far superior to the foreign policy they were called upon to defend. — From a U.S. Marine Corps Captain (resigned)

I feel you are supporting the antiwar demonstrators who are traitors to this country. You are helping them and therefore belong to this group. — From a reader in Texas

I cried for those Southern black soldiers. What did they die for? Tar paper shacks, malnutrition, unemployment and degradation? — From a reader in Ohio

While looking at the photographs I was shocked to see the smiling face of someone I used to know. He was only 19 years old. I guess I never realized that 19-year-olds have to die. — From a reader in Georgia

I felt I was staring into the eyes of the 11 troopers from my platoon who were killed while fighting for a cause they couldn’t understand — From a Marine second lieutenant in New Jersey who had commanded a rifle platoon in Vietnam

Requiesce, scies pace.
The battlefield cross of Lance Cpl. Caleb L. Erickson sits on display during his memorial service at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan. Erickson, of Waseca, Minn., a motor transportation mechanic stationed out of Camp Lejeune, N.C., died while conducting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan, Feb. 28, 2014.
(Article and photo by Corporal Joshua Young, 7 MAR 2014.)
“We’ve come together today to remember Lance Cpl. Caleb Erickson,” said Navy Lt. Doyl E. McMurry, the 1st Battalion, 9th Marines chaplain during the opening prayer for Erickson’s memorial. “He was many things to many people, but to us he was our brother.”Erickson, 20, of Waseca, Minn., was stationed out of Camp Lejeune, N.C. He is remembered by his peers as a Marine who would always volunteer for the jobs that others didn’t want to do but made those jobs fun with his sarcastic humor. “He always found the positive side of everything,” said 1st Lt. John Matlaga, the logistics officer for Motor Transportation Platoon, 1st Battalion, 9th Marines. “His sense of humor and optimism always lifted the hopes and moods of those around him.”Erickson’s peers who spoke at his memorial all mentioned his work ethic and willingness to help everyone. When Erickson saw others working, he would drop what he was doing to help them out. He was loved by all and showed his love for all with his selfless attitude. “The day of the convoy, most of the platoon left for a quick chow break after the brief,” said Cpl. Martin McNamara, also with 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who then began prepping his truck while others ate. “When the guys came back, there was Erickson, with a heaping to-go tray in his hands. He said, ‘Hey man, I grabbed you some food.’ I told him I hadn’t expected anyone to grab anything for me. He said, ‘Hey, you’re my driver, I gotta make sure you’re taken care of.’ I patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Erickson, this is why I love you,’ not knowing it would be my last time.”Everyone who knew Erickson knew of his love for his Volkswagen GTI and his fellow Marines, but Erickson loved one thing more than all others, his family.“Everyone knew that about him, how close he was with his family,” said Lance Cpl. Derek Feick, 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who commented on Erickson’s ‘trademark smile’ during the memorial. “I think he got the most letters out of anyone in the whole platoon while we were out here. That just shows how much he was loved and if you ever met him, you knew why he was loved.”Erickson had a strong Minnesota accent that he and his peers loved to make fun of. His fellow Marines knew him as someone who would make himself the butt of the joke to keep everyone smiling and laughing.“He was a model for how every man should be,” said Lance Cpl. Zachary Dewar, with 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who considers Erickson his best friend and brother. “He always had a smile on his face, and if you didn’t, he’d put one on your face within two seconds of talking to him. He was the greatest man I’ve ever met. I plan on living every day just as he would, and I hope others do too. He made an impact on others’ lives and a huge impact on mine. I know you’re up there, keeping us safe. The memories of you are what keep me going. Semper Fidelis, I love you brother.” High-res

Requiesce, scies pace.

The battlefield cross of Lance Cpl. Caleb L. Erickson sits on display during his memorial service at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan. Erickson, of Waseca, Minn., a motor transportation mechanic stationed out of Camp Lejeune, N.C., died while conducting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan, Feb. 28, 2014.

(Article and photo by Corporal Joshua Young, 7 MAR 2014.)

“We’ve come together today to remember Lance Cpl. Caleb Erickson,” said Navy Lt. Doyl E. McMurry, the 1st Battalion, 9th Marines chaplain during the opening prayer for Erickson’s memorial. “He was many things to many people, but to us he was our brother.”

Erickson, 20, of Waseca, Minn., was stationed out of Camp Lejeune, N.C. He is remembered by his peers as a Marine who would always volunteer for the jobs that others didn’t want to do but made those jobs fun with his sarcastic humor. 

“He always found the positive side of everything,” said 1st Lt. John Matlaga, the logistics officer for Motor Transportation Platoon, 1st Battalion, 9th Marines. “His sense of humor and optimism always lifted the hopes and moods of those around him.”

Erickson’s peers who spoke at his memorial all mentioned his work ethic and willingness to help everyone. When Erickson saw others working, he would drop what he was doing to help them out. He was loved by all and showed his love for all with his selfless attitude. 

“The day of the convoy, most of the platoon left for a quick chow break after the brief,” said Cpl. Martin McNamara, also with 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who then began prepping his truck while others ate. “When the guys came back, there was Erickson, with a heaping to-go tray in his hands. He said, ‘Hey man, I grabbed you some food.’ I told him I hadn’t expected anyone to grab anything for me. He said, ‘Hey, you’re my driver, I gotta make sure you’re taken care of.’ I patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Erickson, this is why I love you,’ not knowing it would be my last time.”

Everyone who knew Erickson knew of his love for his Volkswagen GTI and his fellow Marines, but Erickson loved one thing more than all others, his family.

“Everyone knew that about him, how close he was with his family,” said Lance Cpl. Derek Feick, 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who commented on Erickson’s ‘trademark smile’ during the memorial. “I think he got the most letters out of anyone in the whole platoon while we were out here. That just shows how much he was loved and if you ever met him, you knew why he was loved.”

Erickson had a strong Minnesota accent that he and his peers loved to make fun of. His fellow Marines knew him as someone who would make himself the butt of the joke to keep everyone smiling and laughing.

“He was a model for how every man should be,” said Lance Cpl. Zachary Dewar, with 1st Battalion, 9th Marines, who considers Erickson his best friend and brother. “He always had a smile on his face, and if you didn’t, he’d put one on your face within two seconds of talking to him. He was the greatest man I’ve ever met. I plan on living every day just as he would, and I hope others do too. He made an impact on others’ lives and a huge impact on mine. I know you’re up there, keeping us safe. The memories of you are what keep me going. Semper Fidelis, I love you brother.”

USMC Lance Corporal Caleb L. Erickson. 28 FEB 2014.

Died in Helmand province, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered from an improvised explosive device while conducting combat operations. Erickson was assigned to 1st Battalion, 9th Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Division, II Marine Expeditionary Force out of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

SOLDIER STORIES: Brothers in arms.
popsmoke:

I swear, there isn’t a more welcoming and open group of people than Iraqi soldiers. Even in the darkest of times, they would put their arm around your shoulder and crack a joke. A little piece of me dies when, one by one, my emails stop being answered, and I know it’s because they’re no longer with us. Because for them, there was no coming home from the war. For them, it was life. And sometimes life gets the better of you.
High-res

SOLDIER STORIES: Brothers in arms.

popsmoke:

I swear, there isn’t a more welcoming and open group of people than Iraqi soldiers. Even in the darkest of times, they would put their arm around your shoulder and crack a joke.

A little piece of me dies when, one by one, my emails stop being answered, and I know it’s because they’re no longer with us. Because for them, there was no coming home from the war. For them, it was life. And sometimes life gets the better of you.

(via mintsmintsmints)

USMC Master Sergeant Aaron C. Torian. 15 FEB 2014.

Died of wounds sustained from a detonated improved explosive device while conducting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. Torian was assigned to 2nd MSOB, Marine Special Operations Regiment, MARSOC out of Camp Legeune, North Carolina.

US Army Specialist John A. Pelham. 12 FEB 2014.

Died in Kapisa province, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered from small arms fire in a suspected Green on Blue incident. Pelham was assigned to 2nd Battalion, 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne) out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

US Army Sergeant First Class Roberto C. Skelt. 12 FEB 2014.

Died in Kapisa province, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered from small arms fire in a suspected Green on Blue incident. Skelt was assigned to 2nd Battalion, 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne) out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

US Army Specialist Christopher A. Landis. 10 FEB 2014.

Died at Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered during a rocket propelled grenade attack on their dismounted patrol in Kapisa Province, Afghanistan. Landis was assigned to 2nd Battalion, 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne) out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina.