PDA

View Full Version : A son is home, but all is not right



thedrifter
06-02-07, 06:02 AM
A son is home, but all is not right
Dennis Rogers, Staff Writer
Danny Muller is home.

He and his fellow Marines and sailors of the 1st Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment have returned to Camp Lejeune after more than eight months of hard duty in Ramadi, Iraq.

You met Cpl. Muller in January when his family graciously shared e-mails he had written describing in grim and gripping detail what daily life was like for the Marines in Ramadi.

It was his story that led to this Home Front series that has explored the effects of the war on North Carolina. Now he's home, and I'm retiring later this month, so we have come full circle. And so ends our tour of duty.

The men of the 1/6, like all of the units returning from the war, were met with cheers, tears and hugs from family and friends. And Wayne Muller, Danny's father and a retired Raleigh police officer who lives in Clayton, sent this moving account of what it was like to see your kid come home from war:

"As the father of a United States Marine stationed in Iraq, the past 8 1/2 months have been a living hell.

"As I got close to the base, banners were hanging everywhere. I bet I counted over three hundred. The sign-in process to enter Camp Lejeune took almost an hour. When it was my time to approach the registration desk, I couldn't help but notice the name of the man who was standing in front of me. He was Mr. Feniello. His son Shelby died fighting next to my son. I wish I would have known that, as I stood behind him never even speaking a word. The reality of this happy homecoming was beginning to hit home.

"It took about 5 minutes to ride to the 1/6 barracks. There were sure a lot of proud parents, uncles and aunts awaiting the arrival of the 1/6. The DJ was playing music, the popcorn machine was popping corn, and the pig cookers were grilling hot dogs. I bet there were over a thousand people anxiously awaiting the arrival of their loved ones. Again, there were signs hanging everywhere.

"I froze when I looked at a huge black banner. It stood out from all the rest. The others were colorful, this one was solid black. Underlined in big white letters, it said, "Heroes Live Forever." Underneath were the names of the 12 Marines who would not be arriving on the bus.

"They were Sgt. Julian Arechaga, Sgt. Joshua Frazier, Cpl. Nicholas Manoukian, Cpl. Myles Sebastien, HM3 Chris "Doc" Anderson, LCpl. Jon Eric Bowman, LCpl. Nathan Elrod, LCpl. Cliff Collinsworth, LCpl. Ryan McCaughn, LCpl. Michael Schwarz, LCpl. Thomas Echols, PFC Shelby Feniello.

"I froze in my tracks. I wanted to be happy because I knew Danny would soon be in my arms, but I couldn't be. I just stared at this black banner. I have been well aware of the harsh realities of this war, but this banner hit home. How the hell could I be happy and celebrate?

"When I was finally able to move my eyes, I noticed many young men in civilian clothes. They had shorts on, smiles on, and prosthetic legs. There were several scattered about the crowd. I knew, we all knew, but no one wanted to say anything.

"At 5:30 p.m. the buses slowly pulled up. The crowd was cheering, clapping, laughing, and crying. I stood there numb. I did not know what to feel.

"A lot of kids (yeah, they are just kids), began exiting the buses. They all looked the same. It was hard to tell one from another. For 10 minutes my eyes scanned the Marines running up to loved ones. Where the hell was my son?

"All of a sudden I felt a tap on my shoulder. He'd found me. To say I cried was an understatement.

"I knew I had to let him greet his other family members and his wife. Once he left my sight, my eyes were back on the big black banner.

"It took about an hour and a half, then the 1/6 began forming in the courtyard. My eyes were on my corporal, but they quickly moved to the young men in shorts who were wearing prosthetics. They were also in formation. They were still members of the 1/6. They may have come home early due to war injuries, but they stood proudly with their comrades. You should have seen the look on their faces. God, they were proud.

"Their commanding officer gave them a speech, and you could have heard a pin drop. At one point he became speechless. Words would not/could not come out of his mouth. He wanted to cry, but Marine commanders do not cry, they lead. He regained his composure, and finished his speech. The 1/6 was released until Monday.

"I noticed my son Danny and the Marines of Charlie Company (they lost 4 from their company) approach a family. A father whose son never made it home handed each member of Charlie Company a personalized ball cap. I watched my son hug him.

"The day was coming to an end. As I walked to my truck, I turned around to look at the big black banner just one more time. It would soon be taken down.

"Saturday night my son was resting comfortably in his new apartment with his wife. I was exhausted from the emotions of the day. I wanted to be happy, but I couldn't be.

"Why did my son make it home intact while 12 others didn't and numerous other Marines were crippled for life? At least 10 people at work asked me about the homecoming. Every darn one of them said the same thing, 'You don't look happy.'

"I'm not. Someone please tell me why our young men and women are dying? I want this war to end. I think we all do.

"Thank you for praying for my son while he was in harm's way. Don't forget to keep all the others in your prayers."

"Sincerely, Wayne R. Muller."

Welcome home, Danny.

Dennis Rogers can be reached -- for a little bit longer -- at 829-4750 or dennis.rogers@newsobserver.com

Ellie