Tom Sileo (10 page)

Throughout the predeployment exercises, Travis thought he was about to spend the next eight months fighting for his country on the streets of Al Anbar province. Soon after arriving at Camp Fallujah, however, Travis worried that he was going to spend the next nine months stacking supplies and pushing pencils.

His yearning to leave the base and confront the enemy was visible, and the older, more seasoned officers serving with Travis thought the new guy from the Naval Academy needed to chill out. Being the unit's only second lieutenant—the most junior of officer ranks—made life even more difficult for Travis, as second lieutenants were almost always subject to an “initiation” phase in which they would be put in their place by the officers in charge. It was all harmless, but for someone with ambitions as high as Travis had, it wasn't always easy.

Travis didn't want to leave Iraq feeling that he had not had a chance to use the skills he spent so many years developing. He discussed his concerns with First Lieutenants Carlo Pecori and Croft Young, two Marines he had met in training who were also part of the 1st Marine Reconnaissance Battalion. The two Marines, who had already seen action in Fallujah, urged Travis to keep his chin up and look for opportunities to make a difference. He appreciated their advice, but remained frustrated.

Then Travis got an e-mail from one of his mentors, Coach Joel Sharratt.

“Do not let your guard down or become complacent with your job,” his former wrestling coach wrote. Sharratt, who had consoled Travis after his worst wrestling defeat and on the flight to Brett Harman's funeral, told Travis to focus on the honor and privilege of having the chance to have an impact where he could.

“Learn everything you can every second you can,” he wrote. “Study the tactics, study the people, study the culture [and] know them. More importantly, know yourself and be vigilant not to let up on yourself preparing for the unexpected.”

The first major bright spot for Travis was playing a big role in preparations for Iraq's historic constitutional referendum on October 15, 2005. In order for millions of Iraqis to exercise their newfound right to vote, security had to be heavy, especially in violent Sunni strongholds like Al Anbar province. With al Qaeda vowing to attack polling stations and a deep Sunni-Shiite divide over whether the draft constitution should be adopted, the potential for mass casualties was high.

Before the vote, Travis wrote an e-mail to Navy Captain John McGurty. Travis had dated McGurty's daughter, Jess, and John was a close family friend who happened to be serving in Iraq as well.

          
Sir,

                
Thanks for writing, it's good to hear from you. I'm sorry that we couldn't hook up before you left. We've been pretty
busy getting ready for these elections. It's definitely been an eye opener for me so far but I'm excited to play a role in the event. Hopefully it goes well for these people's sake.

                
Semper Fi,

                
Travis

As October 15 dawned in war-torn Iraq, Travis and thousands of fellow Marines were protecting polling stations, which al Qaeda leader Abu Musab al-Zarqawi and other terrorists had vowed to attack. In Atlanta, where Travis's father was stationed during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina while awaiting his Reserve unit's move back to New Orleans, Tom and Janet were nervous. Tom was using every Marine Corps resource at his disposal to check for updates on referendum-related violence, while Janet was holding her rosary beads and asking the Lord to protect her son.

“Hope all goes well and your operation is a success,” Tom wrote to his son in an e-mail sent just a few days before the referendum. “Love, Dad.”

Indeed, Travis was risking his life as he and other members of his unit, like Marine Staff Sergeant Paul Petty of Texas, set up sandbags, wiring, and concrete barriers. They were working hard to make sure citizens of Al Farris, a western Iraqi municipality nicknamed “Tower Town” because it was in the shadow of a huge, futuristic-looking water tower, could have their say in Iraq's new constitution.

Like most of the areas Travis passed through during convoys, Al Farris was made up of narrow streets sandwiched between multistory apartments, although it was more modern and less violent than cities like Fallujah, which was quieter than in 2004 but still a very dangerous place. Though Al Farris wasn't exactly Center City Philadelphia, Travis enjoyed seeing different parts of the unfamiliar land and knew the nationwide referendum was a crucial moment for the country's future.

“It's nice to finally get the chance to do something like this,” Travis said to Petty, the Marine who was handing him sandbags to stack around polling stations.

“Yes, sir,” Petty said. “It's great to get outside the wire once in a while.”

“I hear that, Staff Sergeant Petty,” Travis said. “Where'd you say you're from again?”

“Texas, sir,” Petty said.

“That's right,” Travis said. “We went to Texas a few times for wrestling tournaments. I liked it a lot down there.”

Though everything was going according to plan, Travis, like almost any US service member out on patrol in Iraq that day, was on edge. He was keenly aware that an explosion or firefight could erupt at any moment, and he reminded his Marines to stay alert.

For the most part, the violence never occurred. American news outlets reported isolated attacks in Baghdad, but the voting on October 15, 2005, was mostly peaceful. Almost ten million Iraqis cast ballots, with just under 80 percent voting to adopt the Constitution. In Al Anbar province, the Sunni stronghold where Travis was deployed, an incredible 97 percent voted against the constitution, which underscored the huge challenges American forces still faced in western Iraq. The overall vote, however, paved way for Iraq's historic national election on December 15, 2005, which Travis and his fellow Marines also played a big role in protecting.

During one late evening convoy through Fallujah, the deafening thunder of an IED shattered the relative tranquility of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion patrol. The group of Marines had been attacked before, but this was the first time that Travis was with them during a hostile incident. Keeping his composure while following the orders of the more experienced officers, Travis, his
heart pumping and his ears ringing, helped evacuate a Marine who was wounded in the attack.

It was Travis's first encounter with IEDs, which were killing and maiming troops and civilians all over Iraq and Afghanistan. Despite the seriousness of the threat, the budding battlefield leader was in his element while helping ensure that a brother in arms survived.

Later that night Travis, looking to burn off some tension from his first experience with a roadside bomb, went over to a makeshift gym he had been instrumental in helping build for Marines on Camp Fallujah. While financial constraints made the project a tough sell, Travis, with extra time on his hands after finishing his duties each day, kept pushing his superiors about the importance of staying in shape, especially since an exercise regimen centered on running was sometimes difficult to maintain in Iraq's scorching heat. Without Brendan there to challenge him during grueling workouts, Travis pressured himself to stay in good physical condition.

As he changed out of his fatigues and walked into the tiny weight room wearing a politically incorrect “Infidel” T-shirt, which had been mailed to him by Brendan, he saw a familiar face under the bench press bar. It was the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion surgeon, Reagan Anderson, a US Navy physician attached to the battalion.

“Lieutenant Manion, how are you?” Anderson inquired.

“Hey, sir, I'm doing alright,” Travis replied. “Just gonna lift and get rid of some of the day's stress, you know?”

“I hear that,” Anderson said.

Travis was about to start his bench press workout, then turned back to Anderson.

“Hey, sir,” Travis asked. “How are you holding up?”

Anderson stopped his reps to answer the Marine's question. Despite having a tough day, Travis genuinely cared about how Anderson was doing.

“You know what, that's the first time anyone's asked me that in a really long time,” Anderson said. “I'm doing well, Lieutenant, and thanks for asking.”

“Do you want a spotter?” said Travis, who moved behind the doctor to support the bar he was lifting in case it became too heavy to control.

“That would be great,” Anderson said.

While out on a convoy mission a few nights later, Travis spotted First Lieutenant Croft Young. Surrounded by palm trees under the bright desert moon, the deployed Marines were far from enjoying cold glasses of beer while watching television, as they often had done at Twentynine Palms after the day's training concluded. Instead, they were fueling up Humvees under cover of night in an ancient, mysterious place.

Even though Young's job was often filthy, exhausting, and dangerous, Travis would have given almost anything to join him.

“It must be great to be outside the wire so much,” Travis remarked to Young.

“I'm not sure ‘great' is the word I would use,” Young said. “I haven't taken a shower in two weeks.”

Travis realized the inconveniences that came with the territory, but still wanted to be part of the main combat effort in Al Anbar province.

During the deployment, Travis sent an e-mail to Marine Captain Ryan Gilchrist, who had taught and mentored Travis at TBS:

       
As far as the deployment, we've been really busy with the referendum lately. There were a lot of moving parts associated with the whole operation as I'm sure you'd understand. It's also been tough on the Bn [Battalion] as we are usually assigned tasks that would suit an infantry Bn, and don't really fit our task organization.

             
In terms of my role, I'm really excited to be out here affecting change where I can, but I'd be lying if I said I was pleased with my situation.

             
Other than that, I also wanted to thank you again for the guidance you gave in Quantico, I think about the things you taught us every day I've been out here (and not just what you told, but by your actions too).

In his reply, Gilchrist offered encouragement and probably the highest praise that could be bestowed upon a junior Marine Corps officer.

“Keep after it,” Gilchrist wrote. “I see stars on your collar in twenty-five years.”

Travis helped make history as proud Iraqis waved their ink-soaked fingers after voting in two democratic elections to help determine their country's future. In between the momentous votes, Travis celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday.

4

“IF NOT ME, THEN WHO . . .”

I
raq changed newly promoted First Lieutenant Travis Manion for the better. As the Marine's mom, dad, sister, and several Naval Academy buddies all noticed, he was still the same Travis who had willingly traded Doylestown for one of the world's most dangerous places. But after returning to the United States, Travis carried with him an aura of seriousness and quiet self-confidence that was unfamiliar to some of his closest friends and loved ones.

When Travis talked about life, he acknowledged its fragility, having felt the pulse of an IED blast and seen dead bodies in the streets. When he dated, he was cautious, knowing that he would probably deploy to Iraq again soon. When he had fun, he knew when to call it quits, even more so than in his Naval Academy days.