Today, my supervisor said that I had to go to a Memorial Service because we need to be prepared in case we have to give one. Well, First Sergeant put out that all Staff Sergeant and above have to go. Well, I begrudgingly went. Not that I did not want to pay my respect, but I know what happens.
Well, out of the 30 something people in Rear Detachment who should have been there, there was two of us. The other is a guy that I'm pretty close to, and we always laugh and joke together.
The memorial service was over in 1st Cavalry Division, and I was thinking he was killed in Iraq. I did not know the Soldier. I'm holding up pretty good, and the mention that PFC Gambles died in the barracks of a undetermined cause in his sleep. That was a wake up right there.
25 years old, and he died in his sleep.
Now I just turned 31, and haven't done much with my life, but to know that it can end that easily.
Then they got to the final part of the service. We bowed our heads in prayer again. Amen. Had a moment of silence. Then, his First Sergeant came walking out. He started calling out names, and each time it was "Here First Sergeant" in reply. Then the First Sergeant Called out: PFC Gambles.
Nothing.
(Tears started forming in my eyes)
PFC Jacob Gambles. Nothing. (Tears started flowing)
PFC Jacob Paul Gambles. Nothing. (I had tears STREAMING)
Then, you could hear the firing party outside. The first volley. The second volley. The third volley.
Then the sorrowful beautiful sound of a bugler playing Taps. (I am almost sobbing)
We wait our turn to pay our respect since we are in the last set of pews in the chapel. I have managed to dry my eyes, and so has my buddy. We are both just sitting there in silence. Finally the ushers get to our pews. He asks if we are going, and all I could say was: We have to. That is our brother.
He nodded, and solemnly we made our way to the front of the chapel. Towards the picture on a stand next to the boots. The rifle turned muzzle down, ID tags hanging from the pistol grip, and Helmet resting on the buttstock. We come to the position of attention, render a salute, and I had to force myself to drop the salute after several seconds as tears were streaming down my face. I dropped my salute, and we executed a right face and marched off, our boots making a hollow thud as we marched in silent cadence.
We gathered our headgear, headed towards the parking lot, and someone stopped us, and asked us to come with them. We followed this Sergeant First Class, and there was the grandparents of PFC Gambles. They asked if we knew Jacob, and I replied "No Ma'am, I did not know him personally". They asked why we came, and I had to hold tears back as I said: Ma'am, I may not have known him, but it is the least that I can do for someone who is so willing to place their life on the line for my sons. His grandmother hugged us both, and we walked out as I started sobbing. I stopped at a bench, and my buddy did too. He had to try and regain his composure too, because his face was as wet and he was crying as hard if not harder than me.
If you ever want to know why I continue to serve in the Army, it's not for glory, not for fame, definitely not for fortune. It's not because I get to play with guns, but because we are a family. We come from different backgrounds, different cities, states, and even countries, but when it comes down to it, I know they have my back. I know they will look my mom, my dad, and my kids in the eyes and tell them that they were proud to be my brother or my sister. I am proud of everyone of my brothers and sisters.
