thedrifter
06-02-07, 07:52 AM
My Men Are My Heroes
Story spotlights discipline, leadership of one Marine
By Harry Levins
POST-DISPATCH SENIOR WRITER
Sunday, Jun. 03 2007
The front jacket of "My Men Are My Heroes" shows two Marines helping a wounded
Marine out of a house in Fallujah, Iraq, in November 2004. Blood drenches the
legs of the wounded Marine. His arms wrap around the shoulders of his helpers,
and his mouth seems to be twisted in pain.
But his right hand still clutches a semi-automatic pistol. And that's Brad
Kasal for you — down, but never out.
In that house in Fallujah, while protecting another wounded Marine, Kasal took
seven gunshot wounds and 44 grenade shrapnel wounds. Last year, at Camp
Pendleton, Calif., the Marine Corps presented Kasal with a Navy Cross — the
nation's second-highest decoration for valor.
At the time of his wounds, Kasal was the first sergeant of an infantry
battalion's heavy weapons company. Today, he's a sergeant major, working in
recruiting but fidgety and eager to return to Iraq.
In this account, Nathaniel R. Helms of St. Charles traces Kasal's life, from
farm boy in Iowa to squared-away Marine. Much of the book amounts to a treatise
on discipline and leadership, as personified by Kasal.
The rest details the hardships and horrors of urban warfare against an
unconventional enemy, with particular attention to "the House of Horrors" in
which Kasal found himself on Nov. 13, 2004. After that day, one Marine recalls,
Kasal's battalion shelved the part of the Rules of Engagement barring Marines
from shooting into a house unless they'd received fire from inside.
It's a gripping tale. Alas, the book staggers under a heavy load of
abbreviations, acronyms, adjectives and adverbs. And it's short about a
kilometer's worth of commas.
Still, the book has its high points. One is the cover photos and others taken
that day by freelancer Lucian Read. The other is Kasal himself. In an epilogue,
he gets the last word. Among other things, he says, while some may call his
actions in Fallujah heroic, "I just call it loyalty. It was because I loved the
Marine next to me that I was determined to do everything it took to keep him
alive, even at my own risk. He would have done the same for me. It's called
being a Marine."
Hlevins@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8144
Ellie
Story spotlights discipline, leadership of one Marine
By Harry Levins
POST-DISPATCH SENIOR WRITER
Sunday, Jun. 03 2007
The front jacket of "My Men Are My Heroes" shows two Marines helping a wounded
Marine out of a house in Fallujah, Iraq, in November 2004. Blood drenches the
legs of the wounded Marine. His arms wrap around the shoulders of his helpers,
and his mouth seems to be twisted in pain.
But his right hand still clutches a semi-automatic pistol. And that's Brad
Kasal for you — down, but never out.
In that house in Fallujah, while protecting another wounded Marine, Kasal took
seven gunshot wounds and 44 grenade shrapnel wounds. Last year, at Camp
Pendleton, Calif., the Marine Corps presented Kasal with a Navy Cross — the
nation's second-highest decoration for valor.
At the time of his wounds, Kasal was the first sergeant of an infantry
battalion's heavy weapons company. Today, he's a sergeant major, working in
recruiting but fidgety and eager to return to Iraq.
In this account, Nathaniel R. Helms of St. Charles traces Kasal's life, from
farm boy in Iowa to squared-away Marine. Much of the book amounts to a treatise
on discipline and leadership, as personified by Kasal.
The rest details the hardships and horrors of urban warfare against an
unconventional enemy, with particular attention to "the House of Horrors" in
which Kasal found himself on Nov. 13, 2004. After that day, one Marine recalls,
Kasal's battalion shelved the part of the Rules of Engagement barring Marines
from shooting into a house unless they'd received fire from inside.
It's a gripping tale. Alas, the book staggers under a heavy load of
abbreviations, acronyms, adjectives and adverbs. And it's short about a
kilometer's worth of commas.
Still, the book has its high points. One is the cover photos and others taken
that day by freelancer Lucian Read. The other is Kasal himself. In an epilogue,
he gets the last word. Among other things, he says, while some may call his
actions in Fallujah heroic, "I just call it loyalty. It was because I loved the
Marine next to me that I was determined to do everything it took to keep him
alive, even at my own risk. He would have done the same for me. It's called
being a Marine."
Hlevins@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8144
Ellie