Boulder City honors fallen soldier

Sito Negron

Wednesday, Nov. 12, 2003 | 1:09 a.m.

When the ceremony started, and Robert J. Garlow called the color guard forward, for a moment, even the wind was silent.

There was not a peep from the audience, not even from the small children. Some held their salutes, others stood at attention.

The event was one of many in Southern Nevada to honor veterans, but in the small, tight-knit community of Boulder City, it took on an added significance.

Garlow, commander of the Matthew A. Commons Memorial VFW Post 36, was beginning the dedication Tuesday of a memorial to seven men killed March 2, 2002, in Afghanistan. The soldiers, including Boulder City Army Pfc. Matthew Commons, 21, died trying to recover the body of a fallen comrade.

"I love Brad, Marc and Matt, and I think about them every day. They died with their boots on as Airborne Rangers," said Commons' platoon commander, Sgt. 1st Class Charles Pressburg.

Army Sgt. Bradley Crose, Spc. Marc Anderson, and Pfc. Commons died with Airman Jason Cunningham, Sgt. Philip Svitak, and Air Force Sgt. John Chapman on what is now known to U.S. forces as Roberts Ridge. It was named after Petty Officer 1st Class Neil Roberts.

They died following the soldiers' credo, "I will never leave a fallen comrade behind," said Lt. Col. John Buss, who commanded the 2nd Battalion, in the Army Rangers 160th Special Operations aviation unit airborne, in which Sgt. Philip J. Svitak served.

Roberts fell from a helicopter on a hill atop a 10,000-foot mountain, during a spate of fighting that was part of Operation Anaconda in eastern Afghanistan. Surrounded by alQaida fighters, he was killed after a firefight. The six U.S. soldiers who died were part of a force sent in to retrieve his body.

The high desert mountain terrain was eerily similar to Southern Nevada, Commons' mother noted after the ceremony.

"It was like a Hershey's Kiss," she said, not much to land on and tapered at the top. She has learned many details since she received the terrible news a year and a half ago, and although she has been interviewed many times, it never gets easier.

The event Tuesday, she said, was as much about the city as it was about her family.

"I don't want to do too many more of these ... it's too gutwrenching," she said. "But the city needs this." Her sons spent 11 years growing up in the tight-knit community. It was so close, in fact, that she was able to tell her son his bike had been stolen from a party he was attending before he knew about it. "He couldn't do anything I didn't know about," she said.

Marek said a classmate, now in the military, would sit with Commons "talking about what kind of soldiers they were going to be." She, her family, other family members and friends from Boulder City were to spend Tuesday night eating, drinking and talking about their missed loved ones, and meeting new friends.

Lt. Col. Burt Bartley was one of those in attendance. An Air Force F-16 pilot stationed at Nellis Air Force Base, he flew combat missions during Operation Anaconda, and was involved in the battle atop Roberts Ridge. He was meeting Marek for the first time Tuesday.

Tuesday, he said, "was time to reflect a little. I'll get back to business tomorrow." Buss said he's been to five funerals, each one after a tragedy.

In each, he said, he's met the finest people imaginable.

"It's been an honor," he said.

The ceremony touched on the soldiers' sacrifice, and the sacrifice made by members of the American military over the years.

Garlow said the ceremony, dedicated to the memory and sacrifice of seven heroes, honored the unique rapport that has grown up around the families of the dead. He was honored, he said, to extend "that circle of friendship."

The memorial itself is a circle, seven stones arranged around a grass hillock, which is surrounded by a circular "bloodred, stonedust path" -- the words from a poem by the memorial creator, Damon Ohlerking -- in the midst of hundreds of newly planted trees in Boulder City's Veterans Memorial Park.

His poem, read at the ceremony, ends with a simple thought, a reference to a stone field set up south of the memorial, "ready for combat, wishing they could come home. May they soon be home. Peace." To dedicate the memorial, representatives of each of the seven soldiers stood by a stone, each rock as tall as a man.

Speaking of the crowd, Army Chaplain J.R. Sherrod said, "Here in this sacred place there are four generations of warriors."

Speaking of the soldiers for whom the dedication was meant, Sherrod said, "All the words ... don't mean as much as the actions of these seven unique, brave men." With that, all stood at attention, and veterans in their peaked hats fired a seven-gun salute. The rifle reports echoed loudly, followed by taps, the plaintive bugle call used since the late 1800s at military funerals and ceremonies.

After the ceremony, the Cub and Boy Scouts came forward.

Commons was in both groups, and Scott Thompson, a group leader, challenged the boys to meet annually in memory of Commons.

As people left the memorial service, some went to the nearby veterans' cemetery, others gathered in groups to talk.

The family members of the seven soldiers let seven balloons -- three black, three yellow, for the Rangers, and one blue, for the Air Force -- float into the sky. Some friendly jostling for position ensued, as the Rangers led the way toward the clouds.