Face of Defense: ‘Old Guard’ Sentinel Serves Last Watch

By Army Staff Sgt. Megan Garcia

3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment

ARLINGTON, Va. – For the past four Christmases, Army Sgt. John Baker left his wife and son to spend the holiday with three strangers whose names he did not even know.

Baker is a tomb sentinel, a small group of soldiers entrusted to guard the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery here. Sharing his holidays with the unknowns is a small sacrifice. “I owe them perfection,” Baker said. “They not only gave up their lives for this country, but they gave up their identities as well. Their stories are an open-ended book that may never be closed.”

The tomb holds unidentified remains of soldiers from World War I, World War II and the Korean War. During the late 1990’s, previously unavailable DNA testing determined that the unidentified remains from the Vietnam War were those of Air Force 1st Lt. Michael Joseph Blassie.  The remains were returned to his family in St. Louis, Mo. for burial.

The tomb is guarded 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, in all weather conditions. On Aug. 31, after taking his last walk, Baker ended his chapter in the unknowns’ story.

Reflecting on his first experience at the tomb, Baker said he never thought he would see the day when he would become a tomb sentinel.  “When I was 5 years old, I remember looking up at a tomb guard walking with a rifle, standing at 6-foot-4, and I was just in awe,” Baker said. “I didn’t think that I could do it.”

However, years later, his Army recruiter thought differently. “My recruiter was actually a tomb guard who had left the tomb in 2007,” Baker said. “He talked me into going down to the tomb and set up everything for me along the way.”

Five months later, Baker arrived to the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment, known as “The Old Guard.”

The Army’s premier ceremonial unit regularly conducts events to honor fallen service members. A select group of the unit’s soldiers guards the tomb. They undergo a rigorous training process that instills the honor, discipline and seriousness necessary to carry out the solemn mission. Baker admitted going into the training that he did not have the right mindset.  “It was a little rough at first,” he said. “I was a 19-year-old kid. I just wanted to have fun. I wanted to have my off time, and I didn’t want to put in the amount of dedication that was necessary.”

Two months into his duty he realized the true honor of being a tomb guard. “It was pouring down rain and I was walking, and there was nobody out there except one old woman,” he said. “She was just looking at me and she was crying, and whenever I would walk past her she would just say, ‘Thank you.’

“I just kept thinking one of them could be her husband that she never saw come home from World War II,” he continued. “That’s when what I did really sunk in.”

Baker has trouble explaining the exact feeling that came over him from that moment and others like it. “It’s hard to put into words when you see those people who really appreciate what we do,” he said. “When a guard changer comes out and requests that the audience stand, I’ve seen veterans fighting to get out of their wheelchairs to pay their respect to the unknowns. That’s what has really drove it home for me.”

The sanctity of his service reshaped Baker’s mentality. “I have so much pride in my country,” he said. “I’ve done something that not a lot of people will do, and I hope I’ve served honorably.”

A long way from the 19-year-old who started this journey, Baker stood tall on the last day of his duty as a tomb sentinel. After walking his final guard shift, Baker relinquished his weapon and prepared to render his final respects to the unknowns.

Walking toward the tomb, Baker stopped to present his ceremonial white gloves to his mother and a rose to his wife and son. He placed a single red rose at the foot of each crypt and rendered one final salute. With his mother, wife and son by his side, Baker left the tomb plaza for the last time. “It’s bittersweet, but I know I’m leaving the tomb in good hands,” said Baker.

Those hands are the legacy of tomb sentinels who Baker said he has watched grow during his time at Arlington. He will miss this special brotherhood, but most importantly, he will never forget the bond he shared with the unknowns. “It’s a feeling that you can’t put into words,” he said. “I’ve asked other tomb sentinels, past and present, and they can’t explain it either. You just know it’s there. I feel like I will always have to defend them.”

Baker, who served at the Tomb of the Unknowns for four and a half years, will report to Fort Stewart, Ga., for his next Army assignment.

Hidden in Plain Sight … A Perspective on Suicide

Posted by U.S. Public Health Service Cmdr. Sarah Arnold, DCoE program manager for performance enhancement

Cmdr. Sarah Arnold is a physician trained in family medicine and preventive medicine. She served in the Navy for 14 years and completed two tours in Iraq. Five years ago, she lost her friend to suicide and was compelled to write about it, in part because she was the last person to see her colleague and friend before she died and also for her own healing.

Two police officers stood at my front door. As I invited them in, they asked if I knew the whereabouts of my friend Dawn (name changed) because she was missing from the hospital. Dawn, a Navy nurse, and I, a Navy doctor, at the time, worked together. We went our separate ways, as we all do in the Navy after a tour is over. I was now in a residency program, and she was stationed at another clinic. That’s why I was surprised to see her one day at the hospital where I was working.

A couple of days before the police showed up on my doorstep, I had lunch with Dawn in the food court at the hospital. That was the last time I saw her. I still had the receipt from Taco Bell — it was my treat. One of the officers said, “It looks like you may have been the last person who remembers seeing her, because shortly after, she was reported missing from the hospital. We were given your name because she has to sign in and out from the ward and tell the staff who is with her.” The officers left me a business card with instructions to call if I saw or heard from her.

I tried to remember earlier conversations to figure out where she could be. Dawn wouldn’t tell me why she was in the hospital, so I thought something must have happened at her clinic. All I knew about her medical history was that she had a traumatic brain injury in the past; I think from a car accident. When we were working together, she did OK. She was a hard worker and lived by herself while her husband and two children lived about an hour away. She didn’t like her job, but most of us didn’t like our jobs at the clinic because we were always understaffed because of deployments or nervous about being taken out of our clinic to deploy. There was no shore duty anymore, except for training programs like the one I was in. She always seemed lonely and kept to herself. Dawn was also very thin; I hardly saw her eat. In fact, the strange thing about having lunch with her that day was she actually ate her entire meal in front of me.

The next few days after meeting with the police officers were uneventful. I was really busy with my training program and still hadn’t heard from Dawn. Then, I checked my email. My heart sank as I read an email from a mutual friend saying Dawn was found hanging from a tree in a park near the hospital. My mind immediately went back to the words from the police officer — “You may have been the last person who remembers seeing her” — words I haven’t forgotten. After all, I am a primary care physician, Dawn was my friend and colleague, and I missed it — and I live with that every day.

As suicides in the military continue to gain media attention, we must remember the friends and family left behind. While suicide prevention programs are necessary and powerful tools, it’s also important to realize that sometimes the messages can be overwhelming to people who lost a friend or loved one to suicide. Messages like, “all suicides are preventable” are a strong call to action but can leave these folks feeling guilty and ashamed, which is no consolation after a tragic death.

Though it’s critical to recognize the circumstances of a potential suicide, we must also be sensitive to the needs of those who lost friends and loved ones. We can help by directing them to resources. If you're grieving and interested in talking to someone, explore the bereavement counseling options through resources such as Vet Centers, Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors and Give an Hour. DCoE also has a fact sheet that can help you understand some of the emotions you’re experiencing.

If you’re a service member in crisis, or know someone who may be showing signs and symptoms that suggest they may need help, contact Military Crisis Line at 800-273-8255 (press 1 for military) for 24/7 information and confidential crisis support.

Future USS Michael Murphy Sails Away from Shipyard

From Team Ships Public Affairs

BATH, Maine (NNS) -- The future USS Michael Murphy (DDG 112) departed General Dynamics Bath Iron Works (BIW) shipyard Sept. 5 for New York City, where she will join the fleet in a commissioning ceremony, Oct. 6.

This milestone marks the completion of the initial 62-ship procurement for the DDG 51 Arleigh Burke-class destroyer program, and the 34th DDG 51 class ship built at BIW, until the class-restart ships begin delivering in fiscal year 2016.

"This sailaway is a poignant milestone for both this ship and the program," said Capt. Mark Vandroff, DDG 51 class program manager for the Navy's Program Executive Office, Ships (PEO Ships). "This has been, and continues to be, a tremendously successful shipbuilding program. I have every confidence that PCU Michael Murphy, as with the previous 61 Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, will 'lead the fight' and make our world a safer, better place."

The new destroyer honors the late Lt. Michael P. Murphy, who was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions as leader of a Navy SEAL team in Afghanistan. Murphy was the first person to be awarded the medal for actions in Afghanistan, and the first member of the U.S. Navy to receive the award since the Vietnam War. Maureen Murphy, Lt. Murphy's mother, will serve as the ship's sponsor.

"It's truly an honor for all of us that are part of this initial crew to not only bring this great warship into the Fleet, but to also do our part in upholding the legacy of Lt. Murphy and his 18 additional Operation Red Wings teammates that gave the ultimate sacrifice," said Cmdr. Tom Shultz, commanding officer of PCU Michael Murphy (DDG 112).

Shultz and many of the 280-person crew have trained in Bath for close to a year to safely sail the ship away and begin their transit to the ship's future homeport of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, also the location of Lt. Murphy's former command, SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team 1.

The DDG 51 class ship is a multi-mission, guided-missile destroyer designed to operate in multi-threat air, surface and sub-surface threat environments. The class of ship provides combat capability and survivability characteristics, while minimizing procurement and lifetime support costs due to the program's maturity. The DDG 51 program continues to reinforce affordability and efficiency in its shipbuilding program with a commitment to deliver ships at the highest possible quality and to manage a seamless transition to the Fleet.

As one of the Defense Department's largest acquisition organizations, PEO Ships, an affiliated program executive office of the Naval Sea Systems Command, is responsible for executing the development and procurement of all major surface combatants, amphibious ships, special mission and support ships, and special warfare craft. The majority of shipbuilding programs currently managed by PEO Ships are benefiting from serial production efficiencies, which are critical to delivering ships on cost and schedule.

Medalist Shares 'Humbling' Experience of Paralympic Competition

By Army Sgt. 1st Class Tyrone C. Marshall Jr.

American Forces Press Service

LONDON – The opportunity to compete in the 2012 Paralympic Games and to represent the United States in front of huge crowds has been a humbling experience, a U.S. Paralympic swimmer said here today.

Navy Lt. Bradley Snyder spoke during a news conference here today, a day before the one-year anniversary of losing his sight in Afghanistan.

“I don't get nervous very easily,” he said. “I kind of pride myself on my stoicism and my ability to utilize my experiences in the Navy to stress-manage.

“But I got incredibly nervous the first time I came out in front of that crowd,” he continued. “It's a very, very humbling experience to stand in front of that many people, and try to keep that distraction out and perform the way you want to.”

Snyder, who lost his vision Sept. 7, 2011, in an improvised explosive device attack, has won two Paralympic medals here. He set a Paralympic record during the qualifying round of the 100-meter freestyle swim, with a time of 57.18 seconds. Later in the day, he captured a gold medal during the final round of the same event.

“Both times I hopped out from the box, it was definitely a challenge to mitigate that distraction and still do what I wanted to do,” Snyder said. “It was really just … a kind of 'in the clouds' type of experience.”

The Navy lieutenant said he was grateful his U.S. Paralympic swimming teammates were there to support him for his inaugural event.

“It was really amazing to have my teammates behind me in my first swim,” Snyder said. “It gave me a lot of confidence, gave me a lot of momentum, and it kind of released the burden of the rest of the weeks of competition.”

Snyder also credited his military service with providing several skills beneficial to him as a blind swimmer.

“I think that earlier on in the military, you are [learning] a lot of virtues that set you up for success -- whether it's initiative,  commitment … [or] just being a regimented person,” he said.

Being organized and motivated, Snyder said, were valuable tools he picked up in the Navy that have carried him throughout his military service.

“My entire naval career is all kind of built along this idea that I'm a go-getter,” he said. “I want to go out and … experience success in whatever realm is kind of put in front of me.

“Blindness was just a new problem-solving challenge to me. I prided myself on my ability to do that,” Snyder added. “And once I reconciled the fact that I wasn't going to be able to see again, I just saw it as a new challenge and a new barrier to move past. And that's how I moved forward.”

Snyder said his six years as a Navy diver translated to his abilities as a blind swimmer.

“Contrary to the public opinion of diving, we do a lot of diving where it's not like gorgeous fish and shipwrecks and stuff like that,” he said. “It's diving in silt … and having to do intricate tasks underwater, where you can't see anything. [Having to be] able to do things under the water, blind -- it's not the first time I've had to do any of those things.”

Snyder said he believes the best is yet to come in his endeavors as a Paralympic swimmer.

“We work real hard, and I don't think we've tapped the potential I've had, but I've had an amazing experience here so far in London,” Snyder said. “It's an honor just to be here competing with the other para-athletes.”