Regrets

John Savage was no hero. He no longer found the Army alluring or exciting. He found it repetitive, restrictive, and unrelentingly mundane. He once falsely admitted to suicidal tendencies (I say falsely because he gave me a look of complicity I couldn’t prove, but it showed me he knew what he was doing), he lashed out against the Company First Sergeant and other unit leaders (following the incident while awaiting punitive judgment, I told him to take care of himself and he removed the scowl from his face long enough to smile softly and say privately, “Take care LT”), and at times he was abrasive, disrespectful, unruly, and rebellious.

There was another side to John also. He was very smart, almost too smart for his own good. He understood how the junior enlisted system worked. He advanced in levels of responsibility due to at times exemplary work-ethic without pinning the rank of Sergeant. He wanted responsibility without accountability. He wanted influence over how to execute a given task or mission without the ownership of consequences should either a task fall short of military standards or a mission fail. But John rarely ever failed.

John knew how to exploit the resources and benefits of military service, but he was growing weary. He was ready to move on with his life. He had grown in competency, gained confidence and a valuable skill-set, and had compiled an impeccable resume of combat and military experiences. When he completed his second and final combat deployment to Mosul, Iraq in December 2008, he planned to submit administrative separation paperwork to complete his End Term of Service (ETS) and he would join his friends who before him declined reenlistment.

John was my team leader. He was a corporal in the United States Army. He was courageous, daring, imaginative, and at times a dreamer. He was careful. He was a smartass. John was a Soldier that Soldiers adored and leaders abhorred. But John was no hero.

On Thursday, December 4, 2008 sometime in the late morning just two miles outside of the Forward Operating Base Marez-Diamondback, five miles southwest of the City of Mosul Iraq, John J. Savage, 26 years old from Weatherford TX, died of wounds sustained in a suicide vehicle-borne improvised explosive device while gunning a military Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicle on a standard leaders’ patrol. He was only nine days away from redeployment back to the United States of America and was the only 94th Heavy Construction Engineer Battalion combat casualty of a fifteen month long deployment. Though he served in a profession known for its gallantry and heroism, John did not live a hero’s life. But as the gunner of a combat vehicle in enemy territory in the final second of his life, he died a hero’s death.

I guess I don’t know if John was a hero. It makes me feel better to call him one, but I don’t think he would appreciate being called a hero. I guess I can’t really say that for sure. I could be wrong, he might like it. Me? I wouldn’t.