“And someday, we’ll see them again,” said Janet, nodding in agreement.
When they went upstairs to take a break, Janet, Christina, and Amy saw Tom, Kevin, and several others in the room gathered around a small television screen. The Washington Redskins, led by former Philadelphia quarterback Donovan McNabb, happened to be playing the Eagles at Lincoln Financial Field. On that solemn Sunday above the DeMatha gym, where mourners were walking past Brendan’s casket, it was only appropriate that Brendan’s favorite team was playing Travis’s.
“Brendan used to wear Travis’s Eagles jersey at games because he was such a good sport,” Janet said. “So for the first time in my life, I’m going to root for the Redskins today.”
The Redskins beat the heavily favored Eagles, 17–12.
After thousands packed Washington’s Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on a drizzly Monday morning, Brendan’s flag-draped casket, covered with a plastic sheet to protect it from steady early afternoon rainfall, arrived at Arlington National Cemetery.
About four thousand people, all saluting or with a hand placed over their hearts, lined the cemetery street as six white horses pulled the fallen Navy SEAL toward his place of rest. Four uniformed soldiers from the US Army’s Old Guard, which handles Arlington funerals with such dignity, guided the horses forward until they quietly stopped, after which US Navy sailors carried Brendan toward Travis and the fallen heroes of Section 60.
Having flown in from Afghanistan, Brendan’s entire SEAL Team Three platoon was at Arlington to bid farewell to the warrior affectionately known as “Loon-Dog.” Indeed, as Defense Secretary Robert Gates had quoted while memorializing US Marine Major Douglas Zembiec, “Your men have to follow your orders. They don’t have to go to your funeral.”
Secretary Gates was also at Brendan’s funeral. With a hand over his heart, he stood alongside many mourners, including Tom, Janet, Ryan, and Dave, as the remarkable ceremony unfolded. Those who witnessed the burial of Lieutenant Brendan Looney would never forget seeing US Navy SEALs, who had come from California, Virginia, Iraq, and Afghanistan to salute their fallen brother, filing past Brendan’s flag-draped casket one by one. The SEALs included Lieutenant Flynn Cochran, who had trained with Brendan at BUD/S; Petty Officer First Class Vic Nolan, who had led the team in prayer just before Brendan’s final mission; and Lieutenant Steve Esposito, who had said “where do I start?” when asked what he liked most about Loon-Dog.
Though the twenty-one-gun salute was technically louder, the sound of each Navy SEAL pounding his trident into Brendan’s casket was thunderous. As the Looney family cried, Janet held Brendan’s trident tightly in her right hand. Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery may have been soaked by rain and tears on that gray fall afternoon, but as the SEALs paid tribute to one of their own, a communal sense of pride was overflowing. Brendan was taken too soon, but he was also being honored the right way.
When Lieutenant Rob Sarver clutched his right fist and thumped his Navy SEAL pin into Brendan’s coffin, which had at least fifty gold tridents on it already, he took a deep breath and said good-bye. Brendan’s funeral was complete, and he would now rest in eternity beside his Naval Academy roommate. But before Sarver went home for the first time since deploying to Iraq seven months earlier, he needed to give Brendan’s personal effects to Amy.
After giving several of Brendan’s medals, along with the bullet casings from the twenty-one-gun salute, to Kevin and Maureen, Sarver gave additional medals and personal items, including Brendan’s wallet, to Amy. Later, when Sarver returned to Coronado, he would open his friend’s locker and find Travis’s knife, which Tom had given Brendan after the Marine Corps Marathon. On this day, however, the items he presented were from Afghanistan.
Sure enough, Brendan’s wedding band was still attached to his G-Shock watch, which the Navy SEAL was wearing when he died. Seeing the ring she had slid onto Brendan’s finger on the happiest day of their lives was another agonizing moment for the young widow. But at least they had found the treasured memento.
After shedding many tears and exchanging stories about each item, Amy suddenly rifled through everything Sarver had brought her and said, “There’s something missing.”
“I know, Amy,” Sarver said. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Brendan’s jacket had to be cut off after the crash.”
“No, not the jacket,” Amy said. “Rob, remember the other thing he always wore?”
“Oh, of course,” Sarver said. “You mean the bracelet.”
“Yes,” Amy said. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m sorry,” Sarver said, bowing his head. “It was never found.”
Everything paused, including Amy’s tears. Finally, after the most unbearable ordeal any military spouse could endure, something made sense.
Somewhere, most likely atop or below one of southeastern Afghanistan’s tall, rugged mountains, a black bracelet with silver lettering lay covered in dirt and dust. Travis never got to serve there, but Brendan made sure that his fellow Spartan, hero, and leader also made his mark in the country where 9/11 was planned.
“No regrets,” Amy whispered. “No regrets.”
President George W. Bush hosts Janet and Tom Manion, along with Dave and Ryan Borek, in the Oval Office on October 29, 2007, six months to the day after Travis died while fighting to shield his teammates inside the Pizza Slice. Janet brought a bag of Marine Corps Marathon “Team Travis” gear and presented it to the nation’s 43rd commander-in-chief.
US Marine Lieutenant General John Allen, who served as Commandant of the Naval Academy while Travis and Brendan were midshipmen, presents Travis’s posthumous Silver Star and Bronze Star with Valor to Tom and Janet Manion, along with Ryan, Dave, and Maggie Borek, during a 2008 Doylestown, Pennsylvania ceremony. Allen would later be promoted to four-star general and go on to lead all US forces in Afghanistan.
Maggie touches a plaque bearing her uncle’s name outside Manion Hall at Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia. Manion Hall, which houses US Marine officers training at The Basic School, was named in honor of Travis.
Brendan Looney and Rob Sarver mark their successful completion of Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) training in Coronado, California. The BUD/S roommates would go on to serve multiple combat deployments as US Navy SEALs.
US Navy Lieutenant (SEAL) Brendan Looney visits with Janet Manion on the night of his wedding in Annapolis, Maryland. During the reception, Brendan gave his gold Navy SEAL trident to the mother of his fallen Naval Academy roommate.
Amy and Brendan Looney are married on July 12, 2008. Forty-eight hours later, Brendan left for his second deployment to Iraq and his first as a Navy SEAL. Courtesy of Clay Blackmore
Brendan, a member of SEAL Team Three, prepares for a combat mission in an undisclosed location.
The last page of the Valentine’s Day card given by Brendan to his wife on February 14, 2010, less than a month before the Navy SEAL left for Afghanistan.
Brendan, carrying his .50 caliber sniper rifle, conducts combat operations in Afghanistan’s Zabul province in 2010. In his pouch is a puppy that “Loon-Dog” and a fellow SEAL rescued from a local village.
Even while missing his wife, parents, siblings, and friends, Brendan’s spirits remained high during his 2010 deployment to southeastern Afghanistan.
Tom and Janet Manion receive a folded American flag symbolizing the ultimate sacrifice made by their only son. Travis was reinterred at Arlington National Cemetery on October 1, 2010, more than three years after the fallen Marine was originally buried in West Conshohocken, Pennsylvania.
In front of a group of US Marines who took a bus to Arlington National Cemetery from Manion Hall, Tom and Janet Manion, along with Ryan and Maggie Borek, lay flowers on the casket of First Lieutenant Travis Manion during his reinterment ceremony. Alex Wong/Getty Images North America
A fellow SEAL pounds his trident into the casket of fallen US Navy Lieutenant Brendan Looney at his October 4,
2010, burial service at Arlington National Cemetery.
President Barack Obama visits the graves of First Lieutenant Travis Manion and Lieutenant (SEAL) Brendan Looney following his Memorial Day address on May 30, 2011. A framed version of this photograph was subsequently placed in the West Wing of the White House.
Thanks to Amy’s “friend-finder,” Travis’s sister and Brendan’s wife became the very best of friends.
Travis’s nieces, Maggie and Honor Borek, wear their respective Travis Manion Foundation and US Naval Academy shirts to honor their fallen uncle.
While icing her aching knee, Amy shows her Marine Corps Marathon medal to Maggie on October 30, 2011, in Washington, DC.
Maggie visits her Uncle Travis at Arlington National Cemetery.
Surrounded by fellow heroes, US Marine First Lieutenant Travis Manion and US Navy Lieutenant (SEAL) Brendan Looney are buried side by side in Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery, where many fallen warriors of the Afghanistan and Iraq wars rest. Matthew Sileo/Courtesy of Matthew Sileo Photography
14
WARRIORS FOR FREEDOM
For Amy, the evening of May 1, 2011, was like many nights during the seven and a half months since Brendan had been killed. She was sad and lonely, but also surrounded by kindhearted friends in the tight-knit Navy SEAL community.
Still in San Diego, swamped by thoughts of what was and what could have been, virtually everything reminded Amy of Brendan. There was the coffee machine that ran out of coffee on the same week her husband would have come home from Afghanistan. There was the box of rainbow sprinkles she bought for her ice cream after one of their last phone conversations. There was the care package that Brendan planned to send Travis before he was killed in Iraq. Even though the magazines inside the box were old and outdated, Brendan could never bring himself to throw it away. Amy shed a tear as she flipped through them.
There was also a whiteboard in the garage where Brendan used to exercise that said “NFTM 4–29–07” in his handwriting. Amy, who hadn’t previously noticed the initials while that particular corner of the whiteboard was hidden behind stacks of boxes, quickly realized it stood for “Never Forget Travis Manion, 4–29–07.” Brendan had written it to inspire himself during grueling workouts, similar to the ones he used to have with Travis.
Day and night, Amy often felt like Brendan was still alive. He was just here.
The young widow spent that evening near the beach with a friend who was married to an active duty Navy SEAL. As spouses often did during deployments, and especially after a team member was injured or killed, Amy’s friend Lindsey was cooking her dinner. Just like on the battlefield, no member of the SEAL community was ever left behind, and when Amy returned to California after three nightmarish weeks in Maryland, she was enveloped with love, support, and most of all, food. Amy could probably count the number of meals she had cooked for the first few months after Brendan’s death on one hand.
Amy and her friend were eating chicken parmigiana and having a freewheeling, spirited discussion when they noticed that Sunday evening television programming had been interrupted by a special report. President Barack Obama was about to give a “major” address to the nation, and for at least a few minutes, nobody seemed to know what he was about to say.
“This is scary,” Amy said, bowing her head to say a quick prayer. All the way across the country, Janet and Ryan were doing the same thing.
There was initially no way to know what was happening, but one thing was for sure: the president of the United States would not address the nation and the world well after 10:00 p.m. on a Sunday night unless the topic was potentially earth-shattering.
Before the topic of the president’s speech was revealed on Twitter and in subsequent news reports, the country experienced some of its most suspenseful moments since Brendan, Travis, and millions more watched the horrific events of September 11, 2001, unfold on live television. The nation had since experienced several tragedies, from the explosion of space shuttle Columbia to Hurricane Katrina, but as rumors began to swirl, countless Americans wondered what the president was about to say.
The White House said the announcement was related to national security. Was it a massive terrorist plot? Had Moammar Gadhafi been killed or captured in Libya? What about Osama bin Laden? Was the country on the brink of war with Iran or North Korea? Were the American people in imminent danger?
The clock in the Del Mar, California, apartment read 8:35 p.m. when the commander-in-chief appeared in the East Room of the White House. It was 11:35 p.m. in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, where the Manions were busy preparing for the next day’s memorial golf outing and dinner, which was held each year on the Monday closest to the anniversary of Travis’s death. Several of Travis’s closest Marine Corps buddies, in town for the event, were staying at the Manion house that night. They sat with Tom, Janet, Ryan, and Dave as the president walked to the White House podium.
“Good evening,” President Obama said. “Tonight, I can report to the American people and to the world that the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al Qaeda and a terrorist who’s responsible for the murder of thousands of innocent men, women, and children.”
From San Diego to Philadelphia, Los Angeles to Washington, Seattle to New York, and Afghanistan to Iraq, millions of Americans rejoiced with a patriotic fervor not seen since the morning of September 12, 2001. President Obama, who had called President Bush shortly before making the startling announcement, spoke about the significance of bin Laden’s death:
For over two decades, bin Laden has been al Qaeda’s leader and symbol, and has continued to plot attacks against our country and our friends and allies. The death of bin Laden marks the most significant achievement to date in our nation’s effort to defeat al Qaeda.
Yet his death does not mark the end of our effort. There’s no doubt that al Qaeda will continue to pursue attacks against us. We must—and we will—remain vigilant at home and abroad.
In Del Mar, about twenty-five miles from the Coronado beach where Brendan was named Honor Man, Amy cried and hugged her friend. At Philadelphia’s Citizens Bank Park, adjacent to Lincoln Financial Field, where Travis had attended countless Eagles games with Brendan, Dave, and others, a nationally televised Major League Baseball game between the Philadelphia Phillies and New York Mets was interrupted by enthusiastic chants of “U-S-A.” In nearby Doylestown, the Manion family and several Marines who had served with Travis did a shot of Patrón at the same bar where Tom and Janet once raised a glass to their fallen son with Brendan. In the nation’s capital, crowds celebrated into the night outside the White House. At the Pentagon, World Trade Center, and United Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, Americans lit candles and left flowers.
“We give thanks for the men who carried out this operation, for they exemplify the professionalism, patriotism, and unparalleled courage of those who serve our country,” the president had said in his speech. “And they are part of a generation that has borne the heaviest share of the burden since that September day.”
In Coronado and Virginia Beach, word was quickly spreading that the men who killed bin Laden were Navy SEALs, which the White House soon confirmed. Upon receiving many text messages from family members and close friends, including Janet and Ryan, Amy reflected on a moment that would have made her husband, who made the most out of every day he served as a sailor and SEAL, incredibly proud.
“I’m so happy they got him,” Amy told her friend Lindsey. “But at the same time, my husband died and I know so many others are going to die too.”
“This is a big deal,” Amy’s friend said. “But it’s also only one slice of the pie.”
Though the war wasn’t over, that night was as close as America’s post-9/11 generation would ever get to the unbridled elation of the World War II generation’s V-J Day.
Amy smiled when she thought of Travis and Brendan laughing and drinking somewhere far above the Sunday night sky. T
hough proud of the role her husband and his close friend had played in America’s struggle against terrorism, Amy still would have given anything to share the moment with Brendan before meeting up with Travis for an Annapolis-style celebration.
The day after President Obama’s dramatic announcement, twenty-two-year-old Corporal Kevin White, of Westfield, New York, was killed by an IED in Afghanistan. Thirty-five American troops died in Afghanistan that month, as well as two in Iraq, from which the last US forces would withdraw that December.
As the sacrifices of America’s military families continued after bin Laden’s death, many controversial issues once again divided the country. In that month and many to follow, just about the only thing most Americans could agree on was the heroism of the military.
Whereas the first Monday in May 2011 was a time for bleary-eyed Americans to rejoice after bin Laden’s demise, the last Monday—Memorial Day—was a time to reflect.
Amy was in San Diego when President Obama took the podium on May 30, 2011, to deliver his Memorial Day remarks. After receiving an invitation to join the ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery, Tom and Janet Manion, along with Ryan, Dave, and their two daughters, Maggie and Honor, were in the audience to witness the president’s address. Sitting beside them at Arlington were Kevin, Maureen, Bridget, Erin, and Kellie Looney.
Speaking at Arlington’s historic Memorial Amphitheater on a bright, clear morning, the president closed his speech with a story about two young men who had made a difference:
Tom Sileo Page 25
