A eulogy for one of my old soldiers

The ongoing war - and yes, America, there is a war - is a pervasive aspect of my daily life. There are, however, none more pervasive than when someone I know personally shows up in the news for the wrong reasons.

Sergeant Jason Swiger, of the 5th Squadron, 73d Cavalry, died on 25 March when a suicide bomber attacked his convoy in Baqubah, Diyala Province.

I've known personally a few people who have died in combat in Operation IRAQI FREEDOM. Some of them I knew relatively well, some less so. I was then-Private Swiger's first troop commander when he got out to the force from Fort Knox, where he did his basic and advanced individual training. He was, like many of my paratroopers, a bit brash, but young, with the enthusiasm that comes with youth and perceived indestructibility.

He was not a model soldier all the time - and reading about his life from before he came into the Army, I can see where he got his wry streak. Sometimes it would get him in trouble. I remember, very dispassionately at the time, having to administer nonjudicial punishment for not showing up to work on time. Some soldiers would take that as victimization, and not move beyond it. Jason Swiger was not one of those people. He eventually grew the maturity to go beyond his childhood and become the leader of men that he eventually became. He would make his rank back before too long, and he did.

It doesn't surprise me that he died handing out candy to children; behind his smartass exterior was a truly good heart.

The last time I saw him, he was a specialist, two ranks above that which I had once reduced him. I'd been gone from the troop two years by then; I was visiting to see how some of the old troops were that were still there from my term as commander. Then-Specialist Swiger and I had a nice chat. He still had his irrepressible energy - and told me with great (and greatly deserved) pride that he had passed his promotion board and was getting ready to be promoted to sergeant.

For the uninitiated, this is a big deal. Troops can hide out as a specialist and shirk authority. Once those soldiers become sergeants, though, and don their "hard stripes," as the idiom goes, they are in a position of authority, and as a commander, I leaned hard on my sergeants to exercise that leadership.

I regret that I never did find out when his promotion ceremony was. I very much would have liked to have congratulated him on his hard stripes, which he earned in spades in his salad days.

He went back, of his own accord, to talk to students from his high school about life in the Army, and about the war. I think talking about the war to that generation carries a lot more credence coming from someone like Jason than it would from me, who is now old enough to be part of the Establishment.

As the Army goes into its fourth year of combat in Iraq, I wonder where we get patriots like Jason Swiger. I think his legacy will be in all the soldiers he touched in his all-too-brief time on this earth. I know that the world is a lesser place for his untimely passing, and only now, recognize the truly great privilege it had been to have once been his commanding officer.

Rest easy, Jason. You earned it.

On the web:
From the Portland, Maine Press-Herald
From the Falmouth, Maine Forecaster
From WCSH, NBC affiliate in Portland, Maine