thedrifter
09-06-05, 06:36 AM
Loved ones recall Iraq bombing as one-year anniversary approaches
By: DARRIN MORTENSON - Staff Writer
This time last year, the families of about a thousand Marines from one Camp Pendleton infantry battalion were ticking off the final days of their loved ones' seven-month deployment to one of the deadliest regions of Iraq when tragedy struck.
For Fallbrook resident Amanda McCarthy, the 21-year-old wife of Cpl. Joseph McCarthy, the final stretch had been a tense, tiring wait alone at their Fallbrook apartment. She hoped their life together could finally begin once Joe returned from the war.
April Ornelas, 19, also had her hopes and dreams pinned on one of the Marines who was supposed to be home soon.
Lance Cpl. Derek Gardner, who lived with her and her family in their Mission Viejo home for nine months before he deployed, had proposed to her at Christmas, and the two had agreed to start talking about wedding dates once he returned.
But both young women would have their dreams crushed and their lives changed on Sept. 6, 2004, when a suicide bomber accelerated beside a Marine convoy rolling down a highway near faraway Fallujah.
The bomb-laden pickup truck exploded in a huge fireball next to the seven-ton truck driven by Gardner, reducing the vehicle to a smoldering mess of twisted metal.
Seven Marines, including Gardner and McCarthy, were killed in the bombing, one of the deadliest single attacks against Marines to date.
As the first anniversary of that painful day approaches, Amanda and April say they struggle each day to reshape their lives and honor the memory of their beloved Marines, even as they are surrounded by growing doubts and opposition to the war that took their lovers' lives.
"Someone has been waiting ... six months for him to come home. And your entire future is right there ahead of you. Everybody is counting on this person to come home," Amanda said on the patio of her small apartment in Fallbrook last week. "And then they don't come home."
High school sweethearts
Amanda said she met Joe at their high school in St. Johns, a small town of 3,500 residents in the Apache country of northeastern Arizona, as Joe was preparing to head off to boot camp in San Diego.
After Joe deployed with the forces that invaded Iraq, they married and settled in Fallbrook, where he again got ordered to war.
Amanda said she remembers their last embrace at the edge of a parade deck on Camp Pendleton as they looked over the rows of gear ready to be loaded on the buses early the morning of March 1, 2004.
"We were just standing there looking at them and I was thinking 'Oh my gosh, what am I going to do for seven months without him?'" she said.
"I never once expected that he wouldn't be coming home," she said, pulling her long black hair from her face to stare out from her mahogany eyes.
Even when she received little word from Joe during the intense fighting that wracked Fallujah in their first few months apart, certain clues let her know that the ugliness of war hadn't sapped his most endearing qualities.
A picture of him in the North County Times bending down to hand candy to Iraqi children thrilled her, she said.
"He wrote and told me that he was the Willy Wonka of Fallujah," she said, referring to his newly acquired nickname.
As the deployment wound down in late summer, Amanda said she was excited and busy planning ways to welcome him home.
"Living wasn't going to start till he came home. It's like your entire world will get better when he comes home," she said.
"I remember asking him about what he wanted to eat when he got home," she said of their last phone conversation on Aug. 30. "And I remember he was like, 'Don't do anything, don't do any decorations, don't do any of that stuff. All I want are kisses. I just want kisses.'"
'I hardly ever dream about him being dead'
A week later, on Sept. 6, there was a knock at her door: A Navy chaplain and two Marines in dress uniforms to tell her that Joe and the six other Marines had died.
"I just remember sobbing ... being in shock, not understanding, not being able to comprehend that he was killed," she said.
A year after his death ----- a somber anniversary to be marked on Tuesday ---- Amanda McCarthy still surrounds herself with memories of her husband, Joe.
Her apartment is decked out with wedding photos and memorabilia, snapshots of their happy beginnings and tokens of their dreams.
"It's very comforting to me. Even though he's gone, your love just doesn't end right there. It can't," she said.
"I always dream about us buying a house, or having our kids, or that sort of thing. I hardly ever dream about him being dead," she said. "There is so much more to his life than just his death and being just another Marine that was killed over there."
Although she is now working as a dental assistant, a career she said she enjoys, Amanda said the project that gets her through the days is raising money for a nonprofit organization that was recently named for Joe.
The Cpl. Joe McCarthy Toys for Kids Foundation is run by volunteers who help needy children in St. Johns.
"We wanted to do something for the kids, without a doubt," she said. "He said it was all about the future, and obviously the kids are the future.
"His life should be remembered. That's why we want to make this foundation work. His dream goes on, basically. We can share his spirit with other people with that," she said.
"I'm trying to live my life in a way that I think he'd be proud of me."
A fiancee mourns
Like Amanda, on this week last September, 19-year-old Mission Viejo resident April Ornelas was eager to begin the life she had dreamed of once her Marine returned from the war.
But the violent death of her Marine fiance, Lance Cpl. Derek Gardner, was a nightmare presaged by a dream she had the night before.
In her dream, she and her best friend and Derek and his best friend embraced and then separated. They were smiling and happy.
"It was like he was saying good-bye," she said, remembering the dream she had a year ago when her dreams of a life with Derek were stolen by war.
The two met a Sears store in Laguna Hills, where April worked in the men's department and Derek shopped for a pair of work pants.
After some family trouble, Derek moved in with April and her family and lived with them for nine months, during which time he received orders to deploy to Iraq early the next year. On Christmas, he asked April to marry him once he returned.
April described him as "funny," "mellow," and "in control."
Her mother said he "had a tough-guy personality but a big heart."
"We grew to love him in the short time he spent with us," April's mom said in tears as she reflected on the son she almost had. "We got to see the young man he was becoming."
'Just remember that I love you'
continued.....
By: DARRIN MORTENSON - Staff Writer
This time last year, the families of about a thousand Marines from one Camp Pendleton infantry battalion were ticking off the final days of their loved ones' seven-month deployment to one of the deadliest regions of Iraq when tragedy struck.
For Fallbrook resident Amanda McCarthy, the 21-year-old wife of Cpl. Joseph McCarthy, the final stretch had been a tense, tiring wait alone at their Fallbrook apartment. She hoped their life together could finally begin once Joe returned from the war.
April Ornelas, 19, also had her hopes and dreams pinned on one of the Marines who was supposed to be home soon.
Lance Cpl. Derek Gardner, who lived with her and her family in their Mission Viejo home for nine months before he deployed, had proposed to her at Christmas, and the two had agreed to start talking about wedding dates once he returned.
But both young women would have their dreams crushed and their lives changed on Sept. 6, 2004, when a suicide bomber accelerated beside a Marine convoy rolling down a highway near faraway Fallujah.
The bomb-laden pickup truck exploded in a huge fireball next to the seven-ton truck driven by Gardner, reducing the vehicle to a smoldering mess of twisted metal.
Seven Marines, including Gardner and McCarthy, were killed in the bombing, one of the deadliest single attacks against Marines to date.
As the first anniversary of that painful day approaches, Amanda and April say they struggle each day to reshape their lives and honor the memory of their beloved Marines, even as they are surrounded by growing doubts and opposition to the war that took their lovers' lives.
"Someone has been waiting ... six months for him to come home. And your entire future is right there ahead of you. Everybody is counting on this person to come home," Amanda said on the patio of her small apartment in Fallbrook last week. "And then they don't come home."
High school sweethearts
Amanda said she met Joe at their high school in St. Johns, a small town of 3,500 residents in the Apache country of northeastern Arizona, as Joe was preparing to head off to boot camp in San Diego.
After Joe deployed with the forces that invaded Iraq, they married and settled in Fallbrook, where he again got ordered to war.
Amanda said she remembers their last embrace at the edge of a parade deck on Camp Pendleton as they looked over the rows of gear ready to be loaded on the buses early the morning of March 1, 2004.
"We were just standing there looking at them and I was thinking 'Oh my gosh, what am I going to do for seven months without him?'" she said.
"I never once expected that he wouldn't be coming home," she said, pulling her long black hair from her face to stare out from her mahogany eyes.
Even when she received little word from Joe during the intense fighting that wracked Fallujah in their first few months apart, certain clues let her know that the ugliness of war hadn't sapped his most endearing qualities.
A picture of him in the North County Times bending down to hand candy to Iraqi children thrilled her, she said.
"He wrote and told me that he was the Willy Wonka of Fallujah," she said, referring to his newly acquired nickname.
As the deployment wound down in late summer, Amanda said she was excited and busy planning ways to welcome him home.
"Living wasn't going to start till he came home. It's like your entire world will get better when he comes home," she said.
"I remember asking him about what he wanted to eat when he got home," she said of their last phone conversation on Aug. 30. "And I remember he was like, 'Don't do anything, don't do any decorations, don't do any of that stuff. All I want are kisses. I just want kisses.'"
'I hardly ever dream about him being dead'
A week later, on Sept. 6, there was a knock at her door: A Navy chaplain and two Marines in dress uniforms to tell her that Joe and the six other Marines had died.
"I just remember sobbing ... being in shock, not understanding, not being able to comprehend that he was killed," she said.
A year after his death ----- a somber anniversary to be marked on Tuesday ---- Amanda McCarthy still surrounds herself with memories of her husband, Joe.
Her apartment is decked out with wedding photos and memorabilia, snapshots of their happy beginnings and tokens of their dreams.
"It's very comforting to me. Even though he's gone, your love just doesn't end right there. It can't," she said.
"I always dream about us buying a house, or having our kids, or that sort of thing. I hardly ever dream about him being dead," she said. "There is so much more to his life than just his death and being just another Marine that was killed over there."
Although she is now working as a dental assistant, a career she said she enjoys, Amanda said the project that gets her through the days is raising money for a nonprofit organization that was recently named for Joe.
The Cpl. Joe McCarthy Toys for Kids Foundation is run by volunteers who help needy children in St. Johns.
"We wanted to do something for the kids, without a doubt," she said. "He said it was all about the future, and obviously the kids are the future.
"His life should be remembered. That's why we want to make this foundation work. His dream goes on, basically. We can share his spirit with other people with that," she said.
"I'm trying to live my life in a way that I think he'd be proud of me."
A fiancee mourns
Like Amanda, on this week last September, 19-year-old Mission Viejo resident April Ornelas was eager to begin the life she had dreamed of once her Marine returned from the war.
But the violent death of her Marine fiance, Lance Cpl. Derek Gardner, was a nightmare presaged by a dream she had the night before.
In her dream, she and her best friend and Derek and his best friend embraced and then separated. They were smiling and happy.
"It was like he was saying good-bye," she said, remembering the dream she had a year ago when her dreams of a life with Derek were stolen by war.
The two met a Sears store in Laguna Hills, where April worked in the men's department and Derek shopped for a pair of work pants.
After some family trouble, Derek moved in with April and her family and lived with them for nine months, during which time he received orders to deploy to Iraq early the next year. On Christmas, he asked April to marry him once he returned.
April described him as "funny," "mellow," and "in control."
Her mother said he "had a tough-guy personality but a big heart."
"We grew to love him in the short time he spent with us," April's mom said in tears as she reflected on the son she almost had. "We got to see the young man he was becoming."
'Just remember that I love you'
continued.....