Archive Page 2
Written by Darryl Sharratt
I am the father of L/Cpl Justin Sharratt. On August 16, 2003 the dreams of a little boy became reality. My son Justin enlisted in the United States Marine Corps after high school graduation. Since the age of six, Justin dreamed of a military career. The combat boots, camouflage fatigues and helmet he wore as a child would soon become his uniform of the day as a United States Marine. To serve and protect the United States of America from all enemies both domestic and foreign; a duty he did not take lightly. Justin’s first combat tour of duty was the city of Fallujah, Iraq. It was here, in the heat of the Iraqi desert, a boy became a man. Sharratt, Stone, Mitchell, Stevens and Wolf soon became ‘brothers by different mothers.’ In a battle known as “Hell House” they fought toe to toe with Iraqi insurgents bent on the destruction of U. S. Marines. They formed a bond forged in the furnace of combat; a bond that will last a lifetime. Semper Fidelis. Upon his return from Iraq Justin joined us while on leave. He was transformed into the man all fathers dream and hope they will be. While on leave, Justin broke his ankle and was put on medical leave. It was at this time I realized what it meant to him to be an infantry rifleman, a grunt. He stared me in the eyes and said “Dad, all I want to do is get my ankle healed. I have to return to Iraq with 3-1 Kilo Company. The guys are counting on me to cover their six and I will never let them down.” Discussion ended—my son the warrior.
The city of Haditha, Iraq was the destination of 3-1 Kilo Company on Justin’s second deployment. Known to be a hot bed of Iraqi insurgency, the Marines of 3-1 Kilo Company could only envision what to expect. Seasoned from their tour in Fallujah, most of the Marines were on their second Operation Iraqi Freedom deployment, many their third. They were experienced combat veterans, drilled on the Rules of Engagement yet sensitive to their alien environment and the Iraqi populace. On November 19, 2005, a convoy of four Marine humvees was ambushed on a city street in Haditha. A massive IED explosion ripped the fourth humvee in the column apart. One Marine was killed and two were seriously wounded. 3rd platoon, 3-1 Kilo Company, my son’s unit, was now in a firefight for their lives. There was no time for rage or revenge. Justin needed to apply his Marine Corps training and experience to preserve the lives of his fellow Marines. All the Marines in 3rd platoon responded in like manner- to preserve the lives of fellow Marines. Reinforcements were called in and an ambulance was needed to attend the wounded. Marines were positioned to defend their precarious position and a comm link was established to FOB Sparta. All done in the best of Marine Corps tradition and training while taking enemy fire. In the aftermath of this engagement, 24 Iraqis were killed. A U.S. Congressman has called these Marines murderers. Time magazine has enlisted the propaganda of foreign journalists to sell its political agenda. Iraqi civilians have been schooled in making false statements. An Iraqi girl missed a day of school because she was afraid the bomb blast would injure her. Interesting reading, but I truly believe the American people can see through this barrage of media conjecture. I ask you not to prejudge my son, not to prejudge these Marines. They have served this country with honor, truth and diligence. I say unto you. the Few, the Proud, the Marines……….. War is a tragic thing. The enemy we are fighting has had centuries to prepare. They wear no uniforms, fight by no Rules of Engagement or follow the Geneva Convention. Using civilians as human shields is a common practice and their hatred for non-Islamic cultures is endemic.
The United States government has taken 12 months and spent millions of dollars and countless man-hours investigating the Haditha engagement. On December 21, 2006, four NCOs and four officers were charged with violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. My son, LCpl Justin Sharratt faces three counts of unpremeditated murder. This is not the forum to discuss these charges but my son stands strong in the fact he followed the Rules of Engagement, protected his fellow Marines and did nothing wrong. All of these men are innocent of these charges. In the aftermath of 9-11, these men have risen to honorably serve their country. Some have given a lifetime of dedicated service, others were just beginning. They have demonstrated to the world there is “No better friend, No worse enemy” than a U.S. Marine. For now, the handshakes will be tighter, the hugs will be longer and the tears sliding down my face are not a sign of weakness- they affirm a father’s love for his Marine son.
This past weekend, February 2nd, Justin, my boyfriend Matt, and myself traveled home to Pennsylvania. Justin is meeting with our attorneys out East, and made a weekend stop to visit. It is amazing how much easier it is for our family to handle this whole ordeal when we are together, supporting each other. It is as though we create a shield that allows us to push all of the worry and pain aside and enjoy each other’s company, laugh at jokes, and feel, well, normal again. The pain subsides, and even though it is only for a brief period of time, it feels like we all are able to take a deep breath of fresh air.
Our flights got into Pittsburgh around 8pm. An old friend from Indiana, Kelly, came with my family to greet us at the airport. She is basically an extension of our family, and it is always wonderful to have her with us. Hugs were exchanged, but I have noticed they linger longer, and we all squeeze a bit tighter. After a brief car ride home, with many stories shared since we last saw each other a few weeks ago, we got to the house and raided the kitchen. One thing our family never lacks is good, home-cooked food! We ate for hours and laughed nonstop. It is hard, in moments such as this, to imagine why something like this is happening to our family. I can see how much we have all changed. My Dad now has gray hair, my Moms eyes look sad all the time, Justin has lost weight, and I sometimes don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. But even in the sad times, we all still have each other.
The next day I made Justin and Matt go shopping. My brother needed some dress shoes, and we had to find Moms her Valentine’s Day gift. Since she is studying to be a medical transcriptionist, she lives at her desk. So far we have upgraded her monitor, mouse, and keyboard. She does not buy anything for herself, so we opted to get her a new computer chair. The three of us literally spent an hour trying out the variety of chairs Office Max has to offer. One thing about my brother is he is always willing to do anything to make someone else happy. I give our Moms credit for that; she has the best heart, and always puts others before herself. Later that evening we went bowling with two of our childhood friends. We had such a good time catching up, reliving stories from the past, and telling new ones. I am sure Matt enjoyed hearing about Justin and I being mischievous little kids!
After bowling we went home and spent a few more hours together, knowing this could, once again, be the last time we get to be with my brother before this incident hits us in the face. The next morning we ate breakfast, but you could tell our smiles weren’t as big, or our laughs as genuine. Goodbyes were exchanged, and once again my brother and I were at the airport, going our separate ways. He was heading to spend a week with our lawyers, and I was heading to Chicago. Who knows, maybe we will get to have another weekend like this past one…
For the rest of my family’s life, December 21st will always be remembered as the day my brother was charged with three counts of murder. We found out at 7:30 am, and our reaction was a mix a shock and sadness. Up until this point, we all still had faith that nothing would come from this situation. My brother was called in to work at the gym to assist with a class while my mom, dad, and I headed to the media center on base to face the media and public release of the charges.
We knew the charges, but we were not prepared for what we would be encountering outside of the conference area. What started as an organized interviewing process quickly transformed into a chaotic rush of questioning by a slew of reporters and photographers that merged into one big blur. Although it was intimidating, and we all felt unprepared, my family held strong for my brother. Throughout our time at the media center we had Marine escorts to assist my family. These men helped not only to direct us, but whenever I felt lost or worried I would look up and see them, tentatively watching us, with a comforting smile that could be seen in their eyes.
After an hour of rapid fire Q & A, we were escorted into the building. We were sent to the front of the room, set up with television cameras, laptops, cell phones, and photographers positioned at every turn. Since we knew the charges prior to this press conference, it was not as hard to hear what was being said by Col. Navarre. Our final task of the day was to issue a statement following the charges. Afterward, we met with a few of the military attorneys, two of which will be assigned to my brother’s case. They were all impressed with our lawyer for sending us to the press conference, seeing we were the only family members who attended the event. Now we are back at the hotel, exhausted from our day, worried about my brother, and hopeful that we will walk away from all this one day with smiles on our faces. We still have faith.
When I booked my plane ticket to fly out to California, I was not giddy with excitement. I was not mentally packing my bag, or planning my trip. I was not talking happily with my brother about our upcoming time together. This was different. I was going to California to be with my Mom, Dad, and little brother. I was visiting Camp Pendleton, where Justin is stationed, to go to a press conference, where the Marine Corps will charge my brother with murder. My flight from Chicago, IL got in a few hours before my parents, who were flying from Pittsburgh, PA. I had a brief 3 1/2 hour flight that seemed to feel longer than my trip to Thailand. I do not think I had an organized thought the entire flight. Little did I know that this sense of dread and sadness would not last long. Nothing felt as reassuring as the hug my brother and I exchanged when he pulled up in his ‘95 Jeep Wrangler. It was the kind of hug you see in the movies; where bystanders witness the emotion and almost feel the need for that same kind of affection. After an entertaining dinner with my brother at a local burger place in San Clemente, CA we went back to his barracks. He showed me around his room, which brought back many memories of the Lafollette dorms at Ball State University, minus the uniforms and smell of dirty socks. I tried on some of his military gear the way a little girl tries on her mother’s shoes and jewelry. With over a hundred pounds of military issued items weighing me down, I could barely walk across the room! We talked about past trips I have made to California while laughing about various stories and adventures of my horrible lack of internal navigation (Camp Pendleton is a very confusing place to drive; you tell me what it feels like asking an armed Marine how to find the closest McDonalds)! We didn’t talk about the trial, the case, November 19th; instead we talked about television shows, relationships, and Chicago’s lack of an effective transportation system. For the first time since the day I found out about this investigation, March 17, 2006, I remembered how to smile. I began to laugh out loud. This may sound ludicrous, but I forgot what that felt like the way a person finds something so entertaining they laugh until it is hard to breathe, while tears form around your eyes, and your face turns red as you double over and hold your stomach, trying to make this wonderful feeling slow down. Some things never change. This is my brother; he knows how to make people smile.
A few hours later we received a phone call from my parents, saying they safely reached the hotel, located a few miles from base. We hopped in the Jeep and headed home. Who knows, this could be where the Sharratt family would be celebrating Christmas. Our full family reunion occurred at our hotel, surrounded members of a television station. Not knowing they were filming, Moms did the spit and fix hair trick to my brother, while trying to hand press wrinkles out of his t-shirt. This is simply what she does. The laughing and quick travel stories felt restrained, and we all could not stop hugging. The television station realized it was time for their exit. Little did we know these four reporters and accompanying cameras would be nothing compared to what we would see the next day.
After we had some time alone to catch up Justin headed back to his barracks. The next day, Thursday, he had to report to his higher ups on base to be issued his charges at 7:30 am. Needless to say, none of us found sleep that night.
