thedrifter
06-21-06, 07:44 AM
Marine Was 'Mr. Ski' to Iraqi Kids
Sergeant Inspired Brothers, Friends to Join the Military
By Brigid Schulte
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, June 21, 2006; B03
Diana Ross was angry when her son signed up for a second tour of duty with the Marines in Iraq. He was a trained sniper and paratrooper and served in a reconnaissance battalion, on the front lines every day searching for insurgents. As a Christian, she worried about the killing. As a mother, she feared for his life. "I need to know," she demanded when she called him on the phone, "exactly what is the plan over there?"
Sgt. Mark T. Smykowski hushed his buddies on his end of the line. "This mission is going to take us years, Mom," she recalls him answering quietly. "These people have been brutalized for years. We have to work with the children. We have to get the kids to trust us."
It was a life-changing moment, she said. "It was the first time I spoke to him as a man."
It would also be one of the last.
Smykowski, a member of the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion, 2nd Marine Division, II Marine Expeditionary Force, was killed June 6 in Anbar province when a roadside bomb struck his armored Humvee, military officials said. He was 23.
Yesterday, amid a rifle volley and taps and surrounded by friends and family who had rented a bus to come from Ohio, Smykowski was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Two American flags were presented to Ross and to Mark's father, her ex-husband, Herbert Smykowski. The father hugged the flag to his chest and hung his head.
Growing up, Smykowski was a good-looking guy, his mother said, and he knew it. "He was full of himself," she chuckled. One day in his senior year in high school, at a college and career fair in Mentor, Ohio, Ross watched the erect bearing of two Marine recruiters. "Couldn't you just picture Mark in that uniform," she joked to her husband. By the time they got to the table, he'd signed up.
After boot camp, he got endless ribbing from his younger brothers when he was chosen to be a model for the Marines. Soon, he was off to special training courses and classified combat missions. He and a friend inspired their younger brothers and friends to join the military. They became known as the "Mentor Seven." All but one came to the funeral yesterday.
In Iraq, the children called him "Mr. Ski." He became an ambassador of sorts to the locals. "His unit would laugh that Mark's name would be on the ballot during the local elections," Ross said. Recently, he had been distributing toys and clothes to Iraqi children, she said.
"He was loving and easygoing," Ross said. "I have all these pictures with his arms around Iraqis. There was one where he had 25 kids all around him."
Ross spoke with her son for the last time nine days before he died. He was telling her how bad things had gotten. "Mark," she remembered asking him, "are you scared?"
"Uh, yeah," he said sarcastically. She tried to bolster his confidence. Then she asked, "Mark, are you okay with God?"
"Mom, you don't have to worry," he said. "I'm good to go with God."
At his funeral in Ohio, at Ross's Willoughby Hills Evangelical Friends Church, the pastor spoke of Gideon, the biblical warrior who, because he trusted God, conquered 120,000 Midianites with 300 men. The congregation read Psalm 23, about dwelling in the house of the Lord forever.
Afterward, young men approached Ross, soldiers she knew had seen dark and troubling things. They asked whether they could do anything for her. "Yes," she said. "Live like there's no tomorrow. Make your mother proud. So if something happened tomorrow, you'll have no regrets."
That's how her son had lived.
Ellie
Sergeant Inspired Brothers, Friends to Join the Military
By Brigid Schulte
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, June 21, 2006; B03
Diana Ross was angry when her son signed up for a second tour of duty with the Marines in Iraq. He was a trained sniper and paratrooper and served in a reconnaissance battalion, on the front lines every day searching for insurgents. As a Christian, she worried about the killing. As a mother, she feared for his life. "I need to know," she demanded when she called him on the phone, "exactly what is the plan over there?"
Sgt. Mark T. Smykowski hushed his buddies on his end of the line. "This mission is going to take us years, Mom," she recalls him answering quietly. "These people have been brutalized for years. We have to work with the children. We have to get the kids to trust us."
It was a life-changing moment, she said. "It was the first time I spoke to him as a man."
It would also be one of the last.
Smykowski, a member of the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion, 2nd Marine Division, II Marine Expeditionary Force, was killed June 6 in Anbar province when a roadside bomb struck his armored Humvee, military officials said. He was 23.
Yesterday, amid a rifle volley and taps and surrounded by friends and family who had rented a bus to come from Ohio, Smykowski was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Two American flags were presented to Ross and to Mark's father, her ex-husband, Herbert Smykowski. The father hugged the flag to his chest and hung his head.
Growing up, Smykowski was a good-looking guy, his mother said, and he knew it. "He was full of himself," she chuckled. One day in his senior year in high school, at a college and career fair in Mentor, Ohio, Ross watched the erect bearing of two Marine recruiters. "Couldn't you just picture Mark in that uniform," she joked to her husband. By the time they got to the table, he'd signed up.
After boot camp, he got endless ribbing from his younger brothers when he was chosen to be a model for the Marines. Soon, he was off to special training courses and classified combat missions. He and a friend inspired their younger brothers and friends to join the military. They became known as the "Mentor Seven." All but one came to the funeral yesterday.
In Iraq, the children called him "Mr. Ski." He became an ambassador of sorts to the locals. "His unit would laugh that Mark's name would be on the ballot during the local elections," Ross said. Recently, he had been distributing toys and clothes to Iraqi children, she said.
"He was loving and easygoing," Ross said. "I have all these pictures with his arms around Iraqis. There was one where he had 25 kids all around him."
Ross spoke with her son for the last time nine days before he died. He was telling her how bad things had gotten. "Mark," she remembered asking him, "are you scared?"
"Uh, yeah," he said sarcastically. She tried to bolster his confidence. Then she asked, "Mark, are you okay with God?"
"Mom, you don't have to worry," he said. "I'm good to go with God."
At his funeral in Ohio, at Ross's Willoughby Hills Evangelical Friends Church, the pastor spoke of Gideon, the biblical warrior who, because he trusted God, conquered 120,000 Midianites with 300 men. The congregation read Psalm 23, about dwelling in the house of the Lord forever.
Afterward, young men approached Ross, soldiers she knew had seen dark and troubling things. They asked whether they could do anything for her. "Yes," she said. "Live like there's no tomorrow. Make your mother proud. So if something happened tomorrow, you'll have no regrets."
That's how her son had lived.
Ellie