Tom Sileo (23 page)

“Take care, Travis,” the retired Marine had written in the last paragraph. “We're keeping you in our prayers. Please keep up the great work you're doing for us!”

Travis had responded on the morning of Saturday, February 17, ten weeks before his final battle in the Pizza Slice:

          
Sir,

                
It's good to hear from you again. Sounds like things are going well in PA. I didn't get to see the Super Bowl, but my parents said they had a good time.

                
We're still pretty busy here as the team tries to figure out its role. I feel pretty confident in what I'm trying to accomplish and how I want to operate with the Iraqis, however, some of the guys on their first deployment are still trying to figure it out. As a small team out here it takes a lot of initiative to make this work, so I hope our team comes around soon.

                
We've done some pretty good things so far, but there have definitely been some intense days so far. I'm really relying on my past experience with Recon (Battalion), and those guys' examples have really helped. We're almost two months down and the time is going pretty fast.

                
I'll be sure to send another update soon. Please tell the family I said hello, and I appreciate all your support and guidance.

          
Semper Fi,

          
Travis

Not a day went by that Gardner didn't think about his dear friend's son and the sacrifices he was making on the streets of Fallujah. This Sunday morning was no different.

Gardner was about to leave his Ardmore, Pennsylvania, church when he felt his cell phone vibrating in his right pocket. Since the service was over, he flipped open his phone to see who was calling. “Dave Papak,” the screen said.

Gardner and Papak were close friends, but a Sunday morning call was out of the ordinary. The retired lieutenant colonel realized that if Travis were killed in action, the general would probably be among the first to know.

Listening to the voice mail on the walk out to his car, he sensed the discomfort in his friend's voice.

“Yeah Corky, it's Dave,” the General said. “I need you to call me back as soon as you get this.”

After Gardner got into the car with his wife, Renee, he looked her in the eye and told her about the voice mail.

“Dave Papak just called,” he said. “And I think I know what it's about.”

“Oh, no,” said Renee, thinking of her dear friends Tom and Janet. “Please God, no.”

After the short drive home on a beautiful Pennsylvania Sunday morning, Gardner solemnly sat down to return his friend's call.

“Hello, Corky,” Papak said. “I don't know how to say this, but Travis is down.”

“I had a terrible feeling this is why you called,” Gardner said. “Does Tom know yet?”

“That's actually what I wanted to ask you about, old friend,” the general said. “I was wondering if you'd be willing to assist the young Marine who's going to notify Tom and Janet.”

“Of course,” Gardner said. “Absolutely.”

Though the retired lieutenant colonel was swamped by a flood of emotions as he remembered Travis and his dad, both in uniform, smiling and laughing on Travis's graduation day, it was time to buckle down and be a Marine. Gardner would perform a difficult job with dignity and respect, because the Manion family deserved nothing less.

About thirty miles away in Doylestown, the sunny afternoon was shaping up to be even more beautiful than a morning that had seemed perfect. Other than the stress and worry of Travis being in Iraq, it had been a refreshing Sunday for Janet, who was spending
time with her only granddaughter, Maggie. Janet's daughter, Ryan, who lived about an hour away, was back in town looking at some space for a store she was planning to open when she and her husband, Dave, moved back to the area.

Janet's sister, Annette Arcuri, had also come over with their mother, Rose Lemma. Janet's brother, Frank Lemma, and his wife, Maria, arrived shortly afterward. Tom's brother, Chris, and his wife, Susan, were also spending the afternoon at the Manion house.

Sunday afternoon family get-togethers were not uncommon, but this was a particularly large gathering. With her son deployed to Iraq, “the more the merrier” was not a cliché for Janet, who was always trying to distract herself with the company of people she loved.

Janet had called Annette a few hours earlier and insisted that she come over. Having just returned from a weekend on the Jersey Shore, Annette didn't really feel like going anywhere, as she wanted to rest and relax at home. But because of the e-mail Janet had received from Iraq two days earlier, she knew her sister needed to be surrounded by as many familiar, caring faces as possible.

Two days earlier, Janet had heard from Jill Kubicki, wife of Travis's commanding MiTT team officer, Major Adam Kubicki.

          
Janet,

                
I know that as of the last message I received (today) that everyone on the team is fine. However, I think that they've had a bit more exposure to the real hardships of combat of late, and given the timing of it (mid-point of the deployment), now's probably a good time for some support from their loved ones.

                
Finally, I do know that there are good reasons for you to be proud of your son, that he is a fine and honorable man. I don't know much of the details, but I do know that he has been important to setting the right sort of examples for the rest of the Marines and for the Iraqis with whom they are working.

          
Best,

          
Jill

After receiving that e-mail, Janet had told Annette she had a horrible feeling about this deployment. It was different from the first one, and she could hear it in Travis's voice every time they spoke. He didn't share most details with his mother, but it was obvious that he was in the middle of the fight.

As Janet handed six-month-old Maggie to her sister so she could finish making salads, Tom was preparing hot dogs and chicken on the deck for their visiting relatives. He was talking to another relative about Senator Biden's
Meet the Press
appearance before heading out on the deck to fire up the grill.

As sounds of life filled the Manion house, Gardner sat just outside their driveway. As on the day he had encouraged an emotional Travis to reconsider his decision to leave the academy, he was giving a pep talk to an extremely nervous Marine who happened to be a member of Travis's graduating class at the Naval Academy. First Lieutenant Eric Cahill didn't know Travis personally, but he had heard stories about his fellow Marine's prowess, on both the battlefield and wrestling mat.

“There's no way to know exactly how this will go, son,” said Gardner, who had once had to tell a close friend's wife that her husband was killed in Korea. “But remember how important it is that we do this the right way.”

“Yes, sir,” First Lieutenant Cahill said.

For the ninety-sixth time in the first twenty-nine days of April 2007, the military would inform an American family that their son or daughter had made the ultimate sacrifice in Iraq. Though Cahill had the unique privilege of having a retired lieutenant colonel by his side, the burden of delivering this devastating news still fell squarely on his shoulders.

With their cars parked on the street, the young Marine, in his green uniform, khaki shirt, and matching tie, walked toward the house with Tom's close friend, who was still wearing the same navy blue blazer he had worn to church. Renee Gardner followed closely behind as they walked up the driveway, which
went straight to the house's “front” door, actually on the spacious home's right side.

Cahill and the Gardners weren't sure the Manions were home until they heard voices coming from inside the house.

Janet was at the kitchen sink when she heard the doorbell ring. Thinking it was two relatives who had gone across the street to pick up more food, she looked out the window and was pleasantly surprised to see Corky and Renee Gardner standing on her porch.

“Oh look, Tom,” said Janet, drying her hands and starting to walk toward the front door. “Corky's here!”

That's strange, Tom thought. He didn't remember Janet telling him she had invited the Gardners over for dinner. In fact, he hadn't talked to Corky in a couple of weeks.

As Janet reached for the door's brass knob, she saw part of the young Marine's uniform through the window. Everyone in the house, including Annette, who was still holding baby Maggie, flinched as Janet let loose a piercing scream.

After opening the door and seeing the looks on Corky and Renee's faces, Janet slammed the heavy white door shut as her sister and other relatives sprinted toward the foyer. When Gardner gently reopened the door and attempted to come inside, Janet slammed it again, this time so hard that the hinges broke.

As Travis's mother collapsed on the floor in shock, with utter chaos overtaking the Manion home, Tom stood motionless as one of the most horrible scenes any husband and father could witness unfolded before his eyes. Though he hoped for a fleeting moment that his son was missing in action or wounded, the colonel was well aware of the Marine Corps' notification procedure. Travis was almost certainly dead.

Slapping both hands on the sides of his legs, Tom lowered his head and said the only words that came to mind.

“No,” he said. “No.”

Shrieks, along with the hysterical cries of a confused baby, filled the quiet neighborhood as the Manion home emptied into
the front yard. Startled neighbors also began to come outside, including a Navy captain who lived next door. Annette, who was also screaming, helped her sister into the yard before realizing she had to get Ryan's baby out of this nightmarish setting.

As the Gardners tried to maintain their composure, Tom was the last person to walk out the door.

Gardner had known Tom since 1994. He had never seen anything like the current expression on his face. Travis's father wasn't crying, but nearly all the color had vanished from his face.

As Gardner's eyes met those of his devastated friend, Tom, in a daze, looked straight through him before wandering out onto the lawn. First he hugged and kissed Janet, then he walked around with his hands on his head and both arms covering his face.

“Why?” Travis's father yelled to the treetops. “WHY?”

As Annette took Maggie inside, where the baby's great-grandmother was weeping in the living room, Janet stood bawling in the driveway in front of the garage. She pointed at her sister.

“I knew it,” she said, clearly referencing Jill Kubicki's e-mail. “I knew it, I knew it. . . .”

Tom, who was aimlessly circling the front yard, approached his old friend.

“Dead?” he asked, to which Gardner nodded with his eyes closed. After shaking his head in disbelief, Tom had started walking away, when his friend put his arm around him.

“Tom, I know this is the worst possible news,” he said. “But I have this Marine over here who must give you the official notification. Let's just compose ourselves for a minute and let him do his job so he can get back to base. Can you please do that for me, Tom?”

When Tom looked over at Cahill, who was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, he saw his own son. Having served in the Marine Corps for a quarter century, he knew how tough this young man's assignment was. No matter how painful, Tom had to take a deep breath and let the Marine do his duty.

He stood quietly as Gardner motioned the visibly shaken Marine over to face the fallen hero's father.

“Okay, Eric, you can begin,” Gardner said.

“Colonel Manion, sir, the Commandant of the Marine Corps has entrusted me to express his deep regret that your son, First Lieutenant Travis Manion, was killed in action in Al Anbar province, Iraq, on April 29, 2007, while conducting combat operations,” Cahill said. “The Commandant extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your loss.”

It was official. Travis was gone.

“Thank you for telling me,” Tom said. “Can you tell me anything more about what happened?”

“I'm very sorry, sir, but this is all the information I have at this time,” the Marine said.

“Okay,” Tom said, putting his right hand on Cahill's right shoulder as tears began to flow. “Thank you.”

As the young Marine walked back to his car, Gardner turned around and called his name.

“Lieutenant Cahill,” he said. “You did a fine job.”

Moved by the retired lieutenant colonel's words, Cahill promptly saluted him. After walking back to his car, getting inside, and putting on his seat belt, the young Marine put his elbows on the steering wheel and lowered his head into his hands.

When Annette got inside the house with Maggie, she smelled something burning. It was the hot dogs and chicken Tom had been cooking on the deck when the doorbell rang. With the sliding glass door wide open, smoke was pouring in from the deck. Annette handed Maggie to her sister-in-law, Maria, and turned off the smoldering grill. Nobody knew that earlier that day, Travis had enjoyed a final barbeque with his fellow Marines. Though they knew Travis was dead, the family still had no idea what had happened.