Marine Corps News Room

http://news.enquirer.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060803/NEWS01/608030366

BY CLIFF RADEL | ENQUIRER STAFF WRITER

They are the mothers and fathers of Lima Company and they share a bond that's strong, special and sad.

Ohio-based and staffed, Lima Company is a 184-member Marine Reserve unit with a tragic distinction. During the company's seven-month tour of duty in Iraq, Lima sustained more casualties - 23 dead, 59 Purple Hearts awarded - than any other band of soldiers fighting in that far-off land.

Eleven of those deaths came on one day, Aug. 3, 2005.

On the morning of that day, a land mine planted on a dusty road near Haditha in western Iraq blew up. The blast destroyed a lightly armored, 30-ton amphibious assault vehicle. Everyone inside died instantly.

Five of those 11 Marines came from Greater Cincinnati. Each had a name and a rank and a place he called home: Lance Cpl. Timothy Michael Bell Jr., West Chester Township; Lance Cpl. Michael Cifuentes, Oxford; Lance Cpl. Christopher Jenkins Dyer, Evendale; Sgt. David Kreuter, Miami Township; Lance Cpl. William Brett Wightman, Sabina.

Each of the five fallen Marines has or will have scholarships in his memory. There's even a Brett Wightman Memorial Scoreboard at his old high school's football stadium. These formal honors constitute one form of remembering.

Grieving parents gathering at a farmhouse is another way to mark the day and remember lives that ended much too soon.

"We plan to look at scrapbooks and tell our favorite stories at the farmhouse," said Jackie Ball, Timothy Bell's mom.

RECALLING THE LITTLE THINGS

Ball, of West Harrison, Ind., plans to talk about the little things. She mentioned a bottle of wine he sent back from Italy. He visited the vacation destination of his dreams during a six-hour layover before going off to war. With the wine came a promise. He would share it with his mom when he came home.

"We're still trying to get over our year of 'firsts,' " Ball added. The first birthday, the first Thanksgiving, etc., without her son. "So, we'll just try to make it an OK day."

The farmhouse gathering was organized by the parents of Sgt. Justin Hoffman of Pataskala, Ohio. He was among the 11 Marines killed in the Aug. 3 explosion.

"The Hoffmans said they would just put the coffee on and see who shows up," said John Dyer of Evendale. He's the father of Christopher Dyer. The late Marine's parents divorced when he was a boy.

"Justin's parents know all of us have a tough time making concrete decisions," John Dyer added. "We don't stick to anything hard and fast."

DEALING WITH EMOTIONS

To a person, these parents can say exactly where they were and what they were doing on the morning of Aug. 3, 2005, when they lost their sons.

Now, a year later, most are not sure of what they're going to do or where they're going next.

"Some days you just want to stick your head in the sand," said David Kreuter's mom, Pat Murray of Miami Township. "Other days you want to be out in the world."

Today, Murray and her husband, David's dad Ken Kreuter, will visit Hillsboro. "But just for a few hours," Murray said. Then, they'll head for home.

"We plan to attend the funeral of the boy, Timothy Roos, from Delhi Township, who was killed," Murray said. On July 27, Marine Cpl. Roos became the 24th Greater Cincinnatian to make the ultimate sacrifice during the Iraq war. His visitation is today; his burial is Friday.

If they feel up to it after the funeral, Murray and Kreuter will go to a cookout with neighbors.

"These people have been so kind to us," Murray said of her neighbors. "I'll never be able to thank them enough. They have saved our lives."

Murray and Kreuter don't want the parents in Hillsboro to feel they are being snubbed.

"We think the world of all of them," Murray said. "But on this day, when you don't know when you're going to visit the cemetery and how you're going to feel afterward, you don't want to be too far from home."

Missy Luttrell, Brett Wightman's aunt in Sabina, would agree. As she pointed out: "There's no one right way to mourn or to remember someone you love."

Aunt Missy is the spokesman for the Wightman family. Her sister, Brett's mom Pam Saville, "left town for a vacation in Florida with her two daughters. She did not want to be home for the day when Brett died. Too many memories."

STAYING AWAY FROM HOME

Kathy Dyer - Christopher Dyer's mom - also left town. The Glendale resident will visit her son's grave near a holly tree in Arlington National Cemetery. "I'll bring flowers to put on his grave," she said. "They'll be red roses for love."

Ten friends will join her. They plan to be standing in the shade of the holly tree by 11 a.m., around the time of the explosion.

Dyer said the last place she wanted to be today was at home.

"I like to sit on my front porch," she said. "As a mother, with a son in the Marines, the one thing I always dreaded was sitting on my front porch and seeing that government car come up the driveway with bad news.

"I didn't see that last year. The government car came up the drive. But I was at my mother's house in Raleigh, N.C. So, I was spared that sight."

This year, Dyer decided "to be with Chris. I'll tell him I miss him and I love him."

Carolyn Cifuentes of Oxford loves and misses her son, Michael.

She will celebrate his life at the farmhouse outside Hillsboro.

"We had to get together," she said. "We had to be there for ourselves to laugh and cry and pray together. We lean on each other.

"And we learn from our sons. They loved each other."

That love, said Jackie Ball, "helps us get through the day. It helps us remember our sons."