thedrifter
11-20-06, 07:58 AM
Picture This: John Fenton
Monday, November 20, 2006
BY THOMAS E. FRANKLIN
Matthew Fenton, 24, of Little Ferry, a sergeant in the United States Marines, died in May from head wounds suffered while fighting in Iraq. Six months later, his father still is coming to grips with not just the loss of his only son, but also the trauma of seeing a small army of other gravely wounded soldiers at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., in the days before he died.
John Fenton never envisioned anything ever would happen to Matthew, just the fourth soldier from Bergen County to die in the war in Iraq. "When he got sent to Iraq, the thought never entered my head. I was concerned, but I never thought. ... I got a message from his mother; she told me Matthew had been injured." Fenton is divorced from Matthew's mother, Diane.
"It was all pretty much bad news," he recalls. "We went to Bethesda. It was hard to believe it was Matt. I would have thought he was another kid. I didn't recognize him. His head was all inflated. Hundreds of metal staples through his scalp. Tubes everywhere. They said he would never have meaningful movements again. [They said] our son had zero chance of recovery. From that moment on, we had to do what we had to do. They removed the ventilator and life support. Three-and-a-half hours later, he passed."
In dealing with Matthew's death, Fenton says, he suffers from depression and guilt, and he talks about how he wished he could have had a closer relationship with his son. "He was a character. He had an independent streak in him. He got in a little bit of trouble once in a while, nothing serious or mean. He didn't have a bad bone in his body. My son was a proud Marine; we were proud of him. He was a fun-loving kid, a tough kid. And he was good to his friends and family. He deserved better than this."
Fenton, who says he never was much of an activist, has become outspoken and wrote a moving letter to the editor of The Record, which drew much attention. His memories from the naval hospital keep him motivated. "There are images in my head I can't get rid of: scalps sunken in, legs missing, arms missing, horrible deformities of the head. The surrounding families ... all walking around in shock. It was horrible, just horrible."
Now, Fenton is a participant at the Families Speak Out rallies at the Teaneck Armory each Wednesday, and attends the funerals of other fallen soldiers. "My son and almost 3,000 others were sent to die there for not a just cause. I want the government of this country to never send soldiers into situations where they don't belong.
"War should be the very last option, and we'd better be right about it. And we've been horribly wrong. We can't allow that to happen. The numbers. Three thousand deaths. Over 20,000 injured and all the families affected. It's a staggering number of people hurt. For nothing. If 2,600-plus lives have not been enough to stabilize and secure Iraq, will 3,000 be enough? Will 5,000 or 10,000? I think we should get them out as soon as possible. How long are we going to wait?"
Ellie
Monday, November 20, 2006
BY THOMAS E. FRANKLIN
Matthew Fenton, 24, of Little Ferry, a sergeant in the United States Marines, died in May from head wounds suffered while fighting in Iraq. Six months later, his father still is coming to grips with not just the loss of his only son, but also the trauma of seeing a small army of other gravely wounded soldiers at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., in the days before he died.
John Fenton never envisioned anything ever would happen to Matthew, just the fourth soldier from Bergen County to die in the war in Iraq. "When he got sent to Iraq, the thought never entered my head. I was concerned, but I never thought. ... I got a message from his mother; she told me Matthew had been injured." Fenton is divorced from Matthew's mother, Diane.
"It was all pretty much bad news," he recalls. "We went to Bethesda. It was hard to believe it was Matt. I would have thought he was another kid. I didn't recognize him. His head was all inflated. Hundreds of metal staples through his scalp. Tubes everywhere. They said he would never have meaningful movements again. [They said] our son had zero chance of recovery. From that moment on, we had to do what we had to do. They removed the ventilator and life support. Three-and-a-half hours later, he passed."
In dealing with Matthew's death, Fenton says, he suffers from depression and guilt, and he talks about how he wished he could have had a closer relationship with his son. "He was a character. He had an independent streak in him. He got in a little bit of trouble once in a while, nothing serious or mean. He didn't have a bad bone in his body. My son was a proud Marine; we were proud of him. He was a fun-loving kid, a tough kid. And he was good to his friends and family. He deserved better than this."
Fenton, who says he never was much of an activist, has become outspoken and wrote a moving letter to the editor of The Record, which drew much attention. His memories from the naval hospital keep him motivated. "There are images in my head I can't get rid of: scalps sunken in, legs missing, arms missing, horrible deformities of the head. The surrounding families ... all walking around in shock. It was horrible, just horrible."
Now, Fenton is a participant at the Families Speak Out rallies at the Teaneck Armory each Wednesday, and attends the funerals of other fallen soldiers. "My son and almost 3,000 others were sent to die there for not a just cause. I want the government of this country to never send soldiers into situations where they don't belong.
"War should be the very last option, and we'd better be right about it. And we've been horribly wrong. We can't allow that to happen. The numbers. Three thousand deaths. Over 20,000 injured and all the families affected. It's a staggering number of people hurt. For nothing. If 2,600-plus lives have not been enough to stabilize and secure Iraq, will 3,000 be enough? Will 5,000 or 10,000? I think we should get them out as soon as possible. How long are we going to wait?"
Ellie