Day 4 complete, For Babbitt

A huge thank you to our Crossfit Brothers: Crossfit Waco and Crossfit CENTEX.  Couldn't do it without their support. 

Damon of Crossfit CENTEX and Michael Martinez


Jonathon of the Crossfit Waco crew and me somewhere in middle

SPC Travis Babbit

Working in a medical compnay has it's pluses and minuses.  The plus is you don't leave the Forward Operating Base (FOB) unless you have to.  Every third day you have to make a patient run to the CSH (Combat Support Hospital) in the green zone, make a logistics run to Camp Taji in the North or take care of medical business at BIAP (Baghdad International Airport).  From time to time you take a doc out into sector to check on Iraqi civilians, etc.  The bad part of working in a medical company, in our case, the FOB aid station, is you see what happens to Soldiers in combat.  I was an older Officer, received my commission on a non-traditional path.  Most Lietuenants are single or just married.  Seeing combat or deploying in some fashion is why they join.  Young studs.  Our nations finest.  Being a "young" LT at the age of 30 was not the norm.  I had kids, Angelina had a career.  You get the picture.  With that said, seeing our Soldiers come through our trauma room was extremely difficult.  Everyone relates and responds to the carnage of war differently.  When we had a trauma I would literally take a deep breath and pray for the best.  Not the case some of the time.  After all, these men and women were parents, or spouses....I had more in common with them than just the U.S. Army on my chest.  Which brings me to the Warrior you see above.  Though I had left 1/8 CAV, I was still a MUSTANG.  That's how it works.  You are still attached to your old unit, especially in time of war.  In fact, I still talk to my brothers from that unit.  We even all worked for the same comany when we entered the civilian world.  But that's another story. 
While on patrol SPC Babbit's convoy came under fire.  Manning the gun in the turret, Travis engaged the enemey.  Travis took a round to his upper torso area.  SPC Babbit fell in the turret.  But you know what?  He got back up and continued engaging the enemy.  No shit.  He was brought to our trauma room on FOB Falcon.  SPC Travis Babbit succumbed to his wounds in the trauma room of B Company, 5th Brigade Combat Team.  He was a fellow MUSTANG.  I know his brothers in HHC were hit hard wtih the news.  I can still see their faces.  Our docs and nurses did everything they could to save his life that day. 
Fast forward to the following year back at Fort Hood.  If you recall I attended purple heart activites for our fallen 1st Cavalry Division Warriors.  After the ceremony, a husband and wife approached me.  Don't know how they knew who I was.  Mr. and Mrs. Babbitt from Uvalde, TX.  Yep, Travis was a Texan.  They heard that I worked at the medical company that tried to save Babbits' life......no, her little boys life.  I told her yes.  The medical professionals just happened to be a stone throw away from our exact location.  Mrs. Babbitt wanted to meet them.  Right now.  I made the phone calls and set it up.  Mr. and Mrs. Babbit stood in front of a formation of medical professionals and thanked them all for trying to save the life of her baby boy, her Soldier, the love of her life.  I pray to the lord almighty that I could be so strong during a time of tragedy.  Rest easy Travis, I know you want to get back up, you don't have to.  You've done enough.  Tomorrow is for you.  I won't fall but if I do for some unknown reason I'm getting back up. 

Behind every Warrior is a Warrior

"Hey Mike, got a question...isn't Victory 400 about our Warriors?  Our Wounded Warriors?"  It sure is.  For folks who are not spun up on the military way of life let me share a little somin' somin'.  Behind every Warrior is another Warrior:  the women and men who love us.  Mom, dad, boyfriend, girlfriend, cousin, wife, husband...insert anything you'd like.  When I met Mrs. Odums and Mrs. Preddy (Burk's mom) I was amazed at their strength.  Their strong presence.  Their ability to keep it together.  Unlike me, I'm not affraid to let my emotions show.  Let the tears roll, it is who I am.  Nothing much I can do to change it.  Our loved ones endure so much hardship while we are away.  Take care of kids, dinner, school, bills, car repairs, holiday's alone, home repairs, house cleaning..did I forget to mention work full-time as well?  They don't ask for help, rely on friends and family at times and never tell you when someting is wrong for fear that you will get distracted and not focus.  Our families know that we worry enough...we worry about our Soldiers.  Which brings me to a story that an old salty dog NCO told me back in the early 90's.  Oh boy, do I have stories about these old salty dog NCO's.  Gosh do I have some good memories from these guys but that's another story.  Well, we got alerted for Rwanda.  Lock down.  Telephones unplugged.  No communication with the outside world.  I arrived at the unit only to be told pack an extra set of BDU's and all the water and ammo you could put in your ruck.  As we sat around waiting to go wheels up (we never went in) I got to talking to these old salty NCO's.  I told them how Angelina was crying pretty hard as I drove away from our apartment that early, early morning.  One of the NCO's said "Mike, the first time you get alerted, the wife follows you outside crying, the second time you get alerted they walk you to the door crying and the third time you get alerted they wave goodbye from the couch".  Those boys were right about EVERYTHING except this one.  Angelina always walked as far as see could until someone in uniform told her to stop.  The above picture is Angelina holding our seven month old Sierra watching me walk out the door and load the bus to the big dance:  Iraq, March 7, 2004.  Angelina always cried and always walked as far as she could.  Tomorrow's 38 miles is for you, the military spouse, the loved one waiting, the mom and dad..the family member that keeps the ship right so we can focus.  You are our domestic Warriors.  As for tomorrow, I am going to keep running until someone tells ME I can't go any farther.

Day 2 is complete, for you Burk.

Great run today, thinking of you Burk.  One of my others brothers flew in from Massachusetts to run with me.  A few pictures here

Today was for you.

SPC Taylor Burk

Angelina was close to giving birth to our 3rd child, Sierra Rain Martinez in August of 2003.  I was at NTC in California for a month+ conducting maneuvers in preparation for our deployment to Iraq in 2004.  1/8 CAV allowed me to leave immediately back to Fort Hood in anticipation of Sierra's birth.  My first day back at the unit there was this goofy looking kid standing outside my office, along side a few new faces.  New Combat Medics.  A gift from HRC to ensure I had enough Warriors Medics on the battlefield.  The goofy kid was Taylor Burk.  A Texan from Amarillo.  He had me in stitches.  Once I caught my breath I called Burk a "carney".  Carney is a term used to call a goofy person a carnival attraction.  Harmless.  Burk quickly responded "sir, my dad is a carney".  "Ok, troop, your dad is a carney". 

During a routine combat patrol in Iraq 2004, Burk's convoy came under fire.  Our hummers were outfitted with steel plates.  Unfortunately Burk was in the back of a cargo hummer.  No protection from overhead.  One of the Soldiers received a gunshot wound for which Burk went to work.  Unknown to Burk, he was also shot in the foot by a tracer round.  Once they moved out of the kill zone, Burk treated his wound.  He had the golden wound.  Burk was flown back to the states.  The picture above is Burk receiving his first Bronze Star with V device for valor for his actions that evening.  Seven months went by, I moved to the Medical Company and life on FOB Falcon continued.  One day in November or December, there was a knock at my door.  Low and behold, it was Burk.  He had literally just jumped off the truck.  He was back.  I can still see his face and hear his words "sir, you were the first person I wanted to see when I returned".  No shit.  This young man from Amarillo wanted to see me.  See me first.  We talked for a long time.  Burk was a young 'en.  We'd make jokes about his.....um....lack of ways with the ladies.  Not this time, Burk meet a girl while back home getting fixed up.  He was so happy.  I was happy.  We couldn't stop laughing. 
Burk was killed by an IED strike on February 3, 2005.  The boys on the ground said he was still cracking jokes when getting on the bird despite the noise.  When the unit returned to Fort Hood, I had the honor, the privilege to escort his mom and dad (step-dad, Burk called him dad) to a ceremony for our fallen brothers.  You know what?  Burk's dad wore his Top-Hat.  He was in the carnival.
Tomorrow is for you Burk.  All 29 miles.  I'm gonna laugh my ass off the entire way.  For you brother.

Day 1 is complete, for you Odie

Thanks to our Crossfit friends at Crossfit Seven, Fort Worth, Texas.

See Victory 400 Day 1 pictures here

FOR THE WARRIORS!

SPC Charles Odums II

Last night, I put together a scrapbook of articles.  Clip outs of newspaper stories about the untimely death of SPC Odums.  Odie to his brothers.  He lost his life on River Road in South Baghdad, Sunday 30MAY10 Memorial Day weekend.  While a holiday for all Americans, grief and sadness for Charles Sr. and Anne.  Odie's parents.  He was killed instantly by the IED blast.  My two brothers in the up armored vehicle were severely wounded.  SFC Karl Pasco would return to duty, return to Iraq and yes, earn a 2nd purple heart.  SFC Pasco spoke at our Victory 400 launch at Auden't Kitchen a few months back.  Karl will also run with me into Fort Hood on Tuesday.  Sunday my body will start breaking down.  Monday, the pain will be evident and on Tuesday....I will love life.  Like everyday.  The beautiful blue sky.  The fresh smell of freedom.  Surrounded by great, great, great Americans.  When I see people in bad moods, hear ugly words come out of their mouths, or encounter disengenious folks......well....I wonder......did their loved one come home in a box?  Did their loved one lose their life on foreign soil?  What would Anne and Charles Sr. give if they could hold their son one more time, just one more time and tell him how much they loved him, how proud of they are of him.  Negative.  No such chance.  Their son, my Soldier, my brother gave all so I can live.  Body breaking down, pain on Tuesday....whatever.  His family feels it everyday.  Just like Odie use to say "That's how we roll sir".  Well, I'm rolling Odie.  Rolling for you.