Gretchen Catherwood holds the flag on the coffin of her son Marine Lance Cpl. Alec Katherwood on Wednesday, August 18, 2021 in Springville, Tennessee. In 2010, 19-year-old Alec was killed while fighting the Taliban in Afghanistan. When he was alive, she liked to touch his face. He has baby-like soft skin, and when she puts her hand on his cheek, this strong big Marine feels like her little boy. (AP Photo/Karen Pulfer Focht)
Springville, Tennessee — When she heard the car door slam shut, she was folding a red sweater and walking to the window, realizing that the moment she had always thought would kill her was about to become reality: three navy Marines and a navy chaplain are walking towards her door, which can only mean one thing.
She put her hand on the blue star next to the front door, which was a symbol of protecting her son Malin Lance Cpl. Alec Catherwood (Alec Catherwood) who set off for the battlefield in Afghanistan three weeks ago.
Then, as she recalled, she lost her mind. She ran wildly around the house. She opened the door and told the man that they could not come in. She picked up a flower basket and threw it at them. She screamed so loudly that she could not speak for a long time the next day.
“I just want them to say nothing,” Gretchen Catherwood said, “because if they do, it is true. And, of course, it is true.”
Looking at the news for these two weeks, I feel that this day happened ten minutes ago. When the U.S. forces withdrew from Afghanistan, everything they worked so hard to build seemed to collapse in an instant. The Afghan army lay down their weapons, the president fled, and the Taliban took over. Thousands of people rushed into Kabul Airport, eager to escape, and Gretchen Catherwood felt in her hands the red sweater she had been folding when she learned that her son was dead.
Her cell phone buzzed with news from her family members who had gathered since that terrible day: the police officer who had escaped the flower pot; the parents of other people died in battle or committed suicide; her son was in the famous first 5 The comrades in the 3rd Battalion of the Marine Corps, nicknamed “Black Horse Camp”, have the highest casualty rate in Afghanistan. Many of them call her “mother”.
Outside of this circle, she saw someone claiming on Facebook that “this is a waste of life and potential.” Friends told her how terrible they felt that her son died in vain. When she exchanged information with other people who paid the price of the war, she worried that the end of the war would force them to question the importance of what they saw and suffered.
“I need you to know three things,” she said to some people. “You didn’t fight to waste your energy. Alec didn’t lose his life in vain. In any case, I will wait for you here until the day I die. These are all I need you to remember.”
In the woods behind her house, the dark horse hut is under construction. She and her husband are building a retreat for veterans, a place where they can gather together to deal with the horrors of war. There are 25 rooms, and each room is named after a man killed in her son’s camp. She said those who returned home had become their surrogate sons. She knows that more than six people have died by suicide.
“I worry about the psychological impact this will have on them. They are so strong, so brave, so brave. But they also have very, very big hearts. And I think they might internalize a lot and blame themselves,” she said . “My God, I hope they don’t blame themselves.”
This 2010 photo provided by Chelsea Lee shows Marine Lance Cpl. Alec Catherwood (Alec Catherwood) That night, the 3rd Battalion of the 5th Marines deployed from Camp Pendleton, California. George Barba recalled Caterwood’s first helicopter flight during training and how he “smiled close to his ears and wiggled his feet like a child sitting on a high chair”. (Chelsea Lee via Associated Press)
The 3rd Battalion of the 5th Marine Corps was deployed from Camp Pendleton, California in the fall of 2010, sending 1,000 US Marines to Afghanistan, which will be one of the bloodiest journeys for American soldiers.
The Black Horse Battalion fought with Taliban militants in the Sangin district of Helmand Province for six months. In the US-led war for nearly a decade, Sangjin was almost completely under the control of the Taliban. The lush poppy fields used for narcotics provide militants with valuable income they are determined to hold.
When the Marines arrived, the white Taliban flag flew from most of the buildings. Speakers installed for broadcasting prayers were used to mock the US military. The school has closed.
“When the bird landed, we had been hit,” the former sergeant recalled. George Barba of Menifee, California. “We ran, we went in, I remember our artillery sergeant told us:’Welcome to Sankin. You just got your combat action ribbon.’”
The sniper lurked in the woods. The soldier with a rifle hid behind the mud wall. Homemade bombs turned roads and canals into death traps.
Sankin is Alec Catherwood’s first combat deployment. He joined the Marine Corps when he was still in high school, went to a boot camp shortly after graduation, and was then assigned to a 13-man team led by a former sergeant. Sean Johnson.
Katherwood’s professionalism left a deep impression on Johnson-healthy, mentally strong, and always on time.
“He is only 19 years old, so this is special,” Johnson said. “Some people still just want to figure out how to tie their boots so as not to be scolded.”
Katherwood also made them laugh. He carried a small plush toy with him as a prop for joking.
Barba recalled Catherwood’s first helicopter ride during training and how he “smiled close to his ears and wiggled his feet like a child sitting on a high chair”.
Former Cpl. William Sutton of Yorkville, Illinois, vowed that Casewood would joke even in the exchange of fire.
“Alec, he is a beacon in the dark,” said Sutton, who was shot many times in the battle in Afghanistan. “Then they took it from us.”
On October 14, 2010, after standing guard outside the patrol base late at night, Catherwood’s team set out to assist the other Marines under attack. Their ammunition was exhausted.
They crossed open fields, using irrigation canals as cover. After sending half of the team safely to the front, Johnson knocked Katherwood on the helmet and said, “Let’s go.”
He said that after just three steps, gunfire ambushing Taliban fighters sounded behind them. Johnson lowered his head and saw a bullet hole in his pants. He was shot in the leg. Then there was a deafening explosion—one of the Marines stepped on a hidden bomb. Johnson suddenly fainted and woke up in the water.
Then there was another explosion. Looking to the left, Johnson saw Catherwood floating face down. He said that it was obvious that the young Marine was dead.
The explosion during the ambush killed another Marine, Lance Cpl. Joseph Lopez of Rosamond, California, and another person were seriously injured.
After returning to the United States, Sergeant Steve Bancroft embarked on an arduous two-hour drive to his parents’ home in Casewood, northern Illinois. Before becoming a casualty assistance officer, he served in Iraq for seven months and was responsible for notifying his family of deaths on the battlefield.
Bancroft, now retired, said: “I never want this to happen to anyone, and I can’t express it: I don’t want to look at my parents’ faces and tell them that their only son is gone.”
When he had to escort his family to Dover, Delaware, to watch the coffin roll out of the plane, he was stoic. But when he was alone, he cried. When he thought of the moment he arrived at Gretchen and Kirk Catherwood’s house, he was still crying.
They laughed at the thrown away flower pots now. He still regularly talks with them and other parents he notified. Although he had never met Alec, he felt that he knew him.
“Their son is such a hero. It’s hard to explain, but he sacrificed something that more than 99% of the people in the world never wanted to do,” he said.
“Is it worth it? We have lost so many people. It’s hard to imagine how much we have lost.” He said.
Gretchen Catherwood received her son’s Purple Heart in Springville, Tennessee on Wednesday, August 18, 2021. 19-year-old Alec Katherwood was killed in a battle with the Taliban in Afghanistan in 2010. (AP Photo/Karen Pulfer Focht)
Gretchen Catherwood hung the cross worn by his son on her bedpost, with his dog tag hanging on it.
A glass bead hung beside it, blowing the ashes of another young Marine: Cpl. Paul Wedgwood, he went home.
Black Horse Camp returned to California in April 2011. After months of fierce fighting, they basically seized Sanjin from the Taliban. Provincial government leaders can act safely. Children, including girls, return to school.
It paid a heavy price. In addition to 25 people who lost their lives, more than 200 people went home with injuries, many of whom lost limbs, and others had scars more difficult to see.
Wedgwood could not sleep when he completed four years of enlistment and left the Marines in 2013. The less he sleeps, the more he drinks.
The tattoo on his upper arm showed a scroll of paper with the names of the four Marines killed in Sankin. Wedgwood considered re-enlisting, but told his mother: “If I stay, I think I will die.”
Instead, Wedgwood went to college in his hometown of Colorado, but soon lost interest. Facts have proved that the welding courses of community colleges are more suitable.
Wedgwood was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He is taking medicine and participating in treatment.
“He is very focused on mental health,” said Helen Wedgewood, the mother of the Marine Corps. “He is not a neglected veteran.”
Nevertheless, he struggled. On July 4th, Wedgwood will bring his dog to camp in the woods to avoid fireworks. After a counterproductive machine caused him to jump to the floor, he quit a job he liked.
Five years after Sanjin, things seem to be getting better. Wedgwood is preparing a new job that will allow him to return to Afghanistan as a private security contractor. He seems to be in a good place.
On August 23, 2016, after a night of drinking with his roommate, Wedgwood did not show up at work. Later, a roommate found him dead in the bedroom. He shot himself. He is 25 years old.
She believes that her son and other suicides are victims of the war, just like those who lost their lives in the action.
When the Taliban regained control of Afghanistan before the fifth anniversary of her son’s death, she was relieved that a war that killed more than 2,400 Americans and injured more than 20,700 people was finally over. But it is also sad that the achievements of the Afghan people — especially women and children — may be temporary.
Post time: Aug-31-2021