Terror to Triumph

By Chris Whittemore

Take a journey through the eyes of a Marine scout sniper as he unveils the horrors of the mean streets of Ramadi, Iraq, in 2005 from losing fellow Marines, escaping death’s grasps as you silently move through the streets, and dodging improvised explosive devices, enemy snipers, and the chaos associated with a country’s first election. Continue the journey through Fallujah, Iraq, in 2007, where the fighting turns more inward, and the struggles faced when balancing the losses in war and at home. Finish the ride as you fly as a UH-1 crew chief / door gunner through the unforgiving country of the Helmand Province, Afghanistan. Fly through countless hours of combat missions in support of multiple countries’ militaries and the scars associated with flying the wounded and fallen back to base.

Take the final journey by facing the reality of the struggles that servicemen and servicewomen face with coping with horrors of war, the fight against the stigma of being broken, and finding a way to transition back into the civilian world. This is the hectic journey that one Marine and his families go through after each deployment, finding a way to stay strong through the darkest times and triumphing from the darkness and finding success against all odds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662413599

Book preview

Chapter 1

Introduction

The towns I grew up in were the types where everyone knew everyone and everyone’s business was the talk of the town. Washington State was littered with endless acres of trees, and the Pacific Ocean was only a short walk away. We grew up on ten acres of tree-saturated land with countless places to explore as I grew up.

At the age of sixteen, I moved down to live with my grandparents in Paradise, California. Paradise was littered with trees, mountains, rivers, and endless amounts of snow in the winter. There was always something to do growing up. In the early years, I spent every minute I could outside. Being a young child, things were so simple, or at least that was the perception I had. When you are young, you are, in a sense, sheltered from reality of what the world really had to offer and the dangers that awaited. This was especially true when it came to the military.

In my family, religion was always something that was valued, and going to church every Sunday and church groups was something that was just a normal thing. As I look back to my childhood and all the good times I had, and then I stare into the mirror and think back at all the things that I have been through, done, and experienced, I do not recognize myself at all. I imagine that there would be no way to stay the same.

The majority of the men in my family all served in the military. From my grandfather, who was stationed in Hawaii during the bombings in 1941, to my father, Tim, and my uncle Dan who served aboard naval ships in Vietnam, and my uncle Pat who served as a paratrooper in the Army in Vietnam. Even with all this history in my family, no one talked about their experiences. This was disappointing to me growing up, but after gaining my own experiences, I fully understand why they never wanted to discuss what they had been through during the wars. I was, in a way, naive to the life that lay ahead in joining the Marine Corps.

Everyone has seen the movies, read the books, or created a vision in their minds as to what life in the military was really going to be like. I was the same. I remember days before going to boot camp, I spent the evening watching Full Metal Jacket. What a disappointment that this was going to be. My experience was going to be nothing like this movie. There is definitely a lot of Hollywood in that movie for sure. Nonetheless, growing up in a military family practically paved the way for me to join the ranks of the military and follow in their footsteps.

I knew deep down that I did not want to float on a ship or join the Army, and for as long as I could remember, I wanted to be a Marine. I am sure all my relatives would have preferred that I followed their example by joining the Navy or the Army, but I am sure they were or are proud of the decisions I have made. My friend Josh and I signed up for the Marine Corps; and in September of 1995, it was on the plane and off to sunny San Diego, California, where we would spent the next three months aboard Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD).

The training flew by and it was time to go to the first duty station. This was going to be paradise. The first duty station was amazing. I was one of the lucky ones to be sent to Third Battalion, Third Marines in beautiful Hawaii. I cannot believe I was going to a place where people spent thousands of dollars to come visit. I would be allowed to live here for free and get paid. What could be better? This was like a dream. In 1996, we deployed to Okinawa, Japan, Korea, and froze in the snow of Mt. Fuji. I always wanted to go here during the summer to hike the mountain, but instead, we always arrived during the wintry months. No other place can you walk into the Laundromat with a million stars in the sky, come out two hours later, and be in the middle of a blizzard—good times for sure. We returned back to Hawaii, and before this enlistment was over, I would make one more trip to Okinawa. This time, things would be much different.

In 1997, we were sent back to Okinawa, Japan. This time would be much different. This time, we would be attached to the Special Operations Training Group (SOTG), where we would have the amazing opportunity to do some great training like fast-roping out of CH-53 helicopters, shooting, going through Close-Quarters Battle (CQB) training, and other fun things. The one hardship about being part of this group—and this will definitely date myself—the leaders all carried pagers. Every time the pager would go off, we would have to walk over to a parking lot, stand in formation, and do accountability checks. We were essentially a quick reaction force (QRF) that could be called up and have to immediately deploy. Since there were no wars going on at this time, none of us really cared about the pager going off. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

I will never forget the cold day in 1997 when we had all our gear staged out in front of the enlisted club aboard Camp Hansen, Japan, and getting ready to head back to the states. I was excited that the deployment was over, and I would be getting out of the military in August of 1999. This was going to be my last deployment, and I was so ready to move on to the next chapter of my life. We had just finished loading our packs and seabags onto large metal pallets that would be loaded onto the airplanes at the airport and we were all just sitting around trying to pass the time and prepare ourselves for the long flight that lied ahead. The new unit had already arrived, and we all imagined that we were in the clear for any more pages going off.

We were all sitting around laughing, waiting on the white buses to come and take us to Kadena Air Force Base when sure enough, the pager went off. We looked around and thought to ourselves, Yeah right, we are done and getting ready to go home. The platoon leader, in a joking manner, said, Well, let’s go do this one more time. We got up and started walking toward the staging area like we had done so many times before.

The entire walk, which was only a few hundred yards away, was filled with people cracking jokes about how dumb this was. That feeling quickly passed once they informed us why the pager had gone off. We were told about a situation that was happening in Cambodia, at a hotel, and that we were to go back to the pallets and remove our gear and get back to this location immediately. I was in a state of shock. So many questions raced through my mind. The whole walk over from the staging area was joyous, and this time, we walked back so quietly that you could have heard a pin drop. How could this happen? We were set to go home!

We got our gear off the pallets and headed back to the staging area. We were told that we would be heading to Thailand to meet up with the task force that would comprise of Navy SEALs, Army 1/1, Air Force Spectre Gunships, and other specialized units. It was great to be in the company of such great groups; but our mindsets were heading home, not getting ready for whatever had to happen. We boarded a different set of buses and watched as the rest of our company headed to the Air Force base and headed home. A few days later, we loaded up the buses again, headed to Kadena Air Force Base, and flew by military aircraft to Bangkok, Thailand.

A few weeks later, we were done in Thailand, and we headed back to Hawaii. Once home, we were able to take postdeployment leave and were able to fly home and visit my brand-new niece Brittany. During this deployment, I regretfully missed my oldest brother’s wedding and the birth of his beautiful daughter. As we all know, who have served in the military, there are going to be huge events that are missed, while serving our nation overseas. This is also true for your family who will go thru memorable moments without you. The price of fame and being in the military and the price that is paid by all. I returned back to my duty station and in August 1999, I moved to Houston, Texas.

Shortly after leaving the Marine Corps, the unthinkable happened that shook the foundation and changed the face of America forever. September 11, 2001, was that day that will forever be seared in the memories of those who were old enough to remember. I do not think anyone will ever forget where he or she was when the planes struck the World Trade Center and slammed into the Pentagon. What was more horrifying is as you watched the news and watched as the towers crumbled to the ground, creating a huge dark cloud or curtain to hide the carnage from the world.

In 2001, two months after the tragedy of the collapsing towers, my wife and I were married in Lake Tahoe, California. What made this so special was during the wedding ceremony, it began to snow. My wife was able to see snowfall for the very first time. We settled back into our home in Houston, Texas, and I found myself going through multiple jobs in search of the missing piece. I had only been out of the Marine Corps for less than two years at this point, but I wanted to reenlist immediately. I knew the United States was at war at this point and the military was going to seek revenge and vengeance on the ones who were responsible for this event. Many people lined up at the recruiting office doors, and everyone who signed on the dotted line was under no delusion as to what they would be called upon to do. There was no doubt that they would be deployed into a war zone, following such a cowardly act by the terrorists.

The amazing thing about all this was that all who signed on the dotted line also signed a blank check payable to the United States of America, just as so many had done in the previous wars that this county had been involved in.

My last chance to find my place outside the Marine Corps came in 2003 when I became a Texas state trooper. During the academy, and as I thought I was finally getting everything figured out, I was finally settling into the routine of the academy when we sat around and watched the initial bombings occur during the invasion into Iraq. Within a few days, we had lost several cadets that were in the military reserves, were taken from the academy and activated in their units, and were going to be deployed. With the bombings occurring and the fact that I had only been out for such a short amount of time, I still had plenty of friends that were no doubt on the ground in Iraq and were in harm’s way.

I had to force myself to reset my focus on what I was currently involved in, and since I was no longer in the military anymore, my only choice was to do the best job I could in this new role and hope and pray that all my friends would make it home safely. I graduated from the academy in July 2003 and moved with my wife to my first duty location in a small town in northeast Texas named Tyler.

During this time, I responded to countless fatality accidents and had to perform more than my fair share of death notifications to the families of the lost. The worst part of doing the notifications, besides the obvious, is they always seemed to occur during the holidays. This would take a greater toll than I could have ever imagined. I cannot describe the mental torture that is involved in telling a family that their loved ones were never going to come home again during the holiday season. There is one that has always stayed in my mind, and that one occurred on December 24, 2003.

This was not only the day before Christmas, but it became that much worse when we arrived at the home to deliver the bad news. The person who had died was a young woman who was traveling back home from Texas A&M after completing her final exams. She had fallen asleep on the long dark highway, crossed into oncoming traffic, collided with an 18-wheeler, and was killed instantly. When we arrived to the family’s home, the driveway was packed with cars, and there were countless numbers of people inside. I would imagine that this was a surprise family homecoming.

I felt sick to my stomach, and the last thing I wanted to do was get out of the car. There was no doubt in the family’s mind, or anyone else’s for that matter, why a Texas State Trooper was showing up on their doorstep on Christmas Eve and in the middle of the night. Before we could knock on the door, the door was opened with the entire family staring back at us. I asked if this was the residence of the fallen, and the father just nodded. I delivered the gut-wrenching news as the mother collapsed to the ground. We gave them the information as to where their daughter was and slowly walked back to the car. Thankfully, the shift was over, and I could go home.

I was so miserable during this time of my life and I felt there was a giant hole that was in desperate need to be filled. During the early part of my career as a Texas state trooper, I was constantly hearing about the pushes by the military back into Iraq and the countless service members that were being injured and killed while I patrolled the forgiving streets of Tyler, Texas. Maybe this was what I was missing and needed to feel whole again. Was it time to go back into the military?

In June of 2004, the decision was made to reenlist into the Marine Corps and begin a journey into the great unknown. To start the journey into the unknown was a bit of a shock to the system. When I met with the recruiter, I was so eager to rejoin that I made the error in judgment to say, I don’t care what my job is and I don’t care where the first duty station I am sent to. Huge mistakes when talking to a recruiter. The reenlistment took place and I finally received my initial orders.

My wife and I would be heading to glorious Twentynine Palms, California, to join up with Third Battalion Seventh Marines who were still forward deployed but would return shortly after our arrival. My wife and I had the military mover come and pack and load everything up and head into the desert. Making the drive down the long deserted highways at night is beautiful when you can’t see anything. When the sun comes up, that is a completely different story. As we finally got close to base, rolling down the two-lane road that appeared to lead into nowhere, I remember the frantic phone call from my wife to this day.

When I answered, her very first statement was Where are you taking me? I had to laugh a little, but in reality I had no idea what lay ahead for us. What made this base so laughable is the Army actually deemed this base uninhabitable. I guess the Marine Corps never got that memo. We finally arrived on base and I was able to check into the new unit.

The main part of the unit would be returning in September, so this gave us a little more time to adjust to the new surroundings. During the downtime, I met someone who has become a great friend that I am still friends with him to this day. He was an Arkansas man named Todd Reid. The time had come to welcome the new unit home from Al-Qa’im and they were not that keen on new check-ins. I was excited to be back in this gun club and to finally be back in uniform and around Marines again. I should have been more careful what I wished for.

I started out in the Combined Anti-Armor Team (CAAT) White where I met even greater guys that I still keep in contact with after all these years. Things didn’t take long to ramp back up and we hit the ground running. We were constantly on the go getting ready for the next deployment. What was so amazing to me is this unit just got back from Iraq and we were already getting ready for the next deployment. During this time none of the infantry units stayed home very long. The rotation cycle was extremely quick, and for this duty location, it seemed that we were all on the accelerated track.

This place stayed a ghost town, but thankfully being so isolated from everything allowed the families stationed here to get close and help one another out. There is nothing like the bond forged with others that are going through the same hardships as you. I was relieved, and it helped me focus during training to know my wife would not be that isolated or too bored and had people watching out for her. Twentynine Palms is located in the middle of nowhere, and the hot spot to go to during the weekend to get away from the base was the local trip to Yucca Valley. If you were feeling adventurous, you could make the one-and-a-half-hour drive down to Palm Springs. No matter where we decided to go, it was always great to leave the desert and see civilization.

My favorite place to go, when we had time, was making the five-hour drive to Los Angeles and visiting the Pacific Ocean. The ocean was always a great place to go to decompress and allow your worries to roll away with the constant crashing of the waves against the shoreline.

During my time in the CAAT teams, Warren, Levin, Stout, and I would be sent to Machine Gun Leadership Course, which would introduce us to Marines that would be influential during the upcoming deployment. One of the Marines was LCPL Spears, who had just returned from the combat deployment with Third Battalion, Seventh Marines, and the second Marine was CPL Bier. CPL Bier was a security force Marine right out of the School of Infantry and was sent to Bangor, Washington, to guard naval submarines. This was his first infantry unit and would be his first combat deployment. The course flew by, and we all headed back to the sandbox and got things ready for leaving in the next few months. There was only one more large training event that would be occurring before the deployment, and that was going to take us to March Air Force Base.

After several months with the CAAT teams, while training at March Air Force Base, the Scout Sniper team had openings in the platoon, and myself and a few others from weapons company joined the teams and returned to Twentynine Palms with them. Initially, the platoon I had just left was angry, but I knew deep down that I had to take this opportunity. There are certain events that you can look back on in your life that have molded who you are and what you would become. Joining the teams is that event. This decision would put me on a collision course with significant events that I could never have prepared for. Like I said previously, I met some great guys in the CAAT teams, but the bond that we all formed while with the sniper teams was like no other. Maybe it was because we would be operating on deployment in small groups of six, being out in the cities in Iraq with help about ten minutes away, or maybe just because the platoon was so small it was just easier to bond.

Training was exciting and kept us on the go even more than I had experienced with the CAAT teams. From baking out in the desert during training missions on range 400, shooting on the ranges, and my favorite thing to do—stalking. There is nothing like stalking in Twentynine