FORWARD OPERATING BASE RIPLEY, Afghanistan, June 14, 2004 — To many of his fellow Marines in Company C, Battalion Landing Team, 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, Sgt. Anthony Viggiani is the ideal Marine.

In the eyes of subordinates and seniors alike, the Strongsville, Ohio, native embodies those qualities that make Marines special: dedication, professionalism, strength, commitment, strong morals, and bravery. Now they have an additional quality to add to that list -- tough as nails.

During a recent firefight with anti-coalition militia in south-central Afghanistan, Viggiani's actions further elevated him in the eyes of the rest of the 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit (Special Operations Capable).

When a pair of Army AH-64 Apache attack helicopters spotted approximately 20 heavily-armed militia fighters fleeing into the hills during a cordon-and-knock operation in a nearby village, Co. C immediately pursued on foot. Leading his squad over a steep, rock-strewn mountain, Viggiani was at the head of the advance when they came under heavy enemy rifle fire.

"The rounds just started pouring in," he said later that day, "and we weren't really sure where they were coming from."

On the slope opposite the valley below him, approximately 100 meters away, Viggiani and his Marines watched as two other Marines, Cpl. Randy Wood and Lance Cpl. James Gould, were wounded by enemy rifle fire.

Aware that the fire was coming from the slope in front of him, Viggiani pressed forward cautiously when he and 1st Sgt. Ernest Hoopii came under concentrated fire themselves.

The 24-year-old Viggiani then found he was mere feet from the cave housing the enemy sniper still firing at Wood and Gould, who had since taken cover behind a too-small rock.

"I was able to look down a break in the rocks and saw a bit of cloth move, so I got off three or four shots and then dropped the [fragmentation grenade]," said Viggiani.

Combined with rifle and machine-gun fire from Wood and Gould's squad, the grenade explosion silenced the enemy position, which was later found to have housed three militia fighters.

Sometime during the fight, Viggiani was struck in the lower left leg by an enemy bullet, fired by fighters further up the valley. Seemingly unmindful of the wound, Viggiani continued to engage the enemy with rifle fire until the area was cleared and a total of four dead and one wounded enemy fighters were found.

Mere minutes after the fight, with typical Marine élan, Viggiani dismissed the wound that stained the front of his trouser leg a deep crimson.

"It stings a bit, but it's nothing," he said as he paused for a photograph in front of the cave he helped clear mere minutes after the fight.

Despite recommendations from his fellow Marines, Viggiani refused to leave his platoon and seek aid at the battalion landing team's mobile command post. With a small dressing and a few aspirin, Viggiani shouldered his rifle and trudged further into the rugged mountains in pursuit of Taliban and militia fighters.

By U.S. Marine Corps Gunnery Sgt. Keith A. Milks 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit

From Kevin Ferris  - Philidelphia Inquirer

From a State of the Union that won't be much quoted, a line for the military that can't be repeated enough:
"In the past year, you have done everything we've asked of you, and more. Our nation is grateful for your courage. We are proud of your accomplishments."

Take the case of one Marine, Sean A. Stokes of California. On Wednesday, his 25th birthday, he will be awarded the Silver Star for courage demonstrated during the hand-to-hand, street-fighting nightmare that was the Battle of Fallujah in November 2004.

The honor will be presented posthumously.

Stokes was killed by an IED blast on July 30, 2007, while on security detail during his third deployment to Iraq. His longtime friend Brad Adams also was injured, but survived. Stokes died in the arms of the battalion commander whose life he had saved.

Stokes' heroics on the battlefield were amply recorded in Patrick O'Donnell's book We Were One and the History Channel documentary Shootout: Fallujah. Equally impressive was his struggle to remain in uniform, to stay and fight beside his fellow Marines.

During 12 days of urban combat in Fallujah, Lima Company's First Platoon fought house by house. Stokes was on point, kicking in the doors, never knowing whether an ambush awaited.

He described the job in Shootout:

"At each house I said a prayer, 'Please, God, get me out of this one.' When I come out of the house, I thank him, light up a cigarette and move on to the next one."

He was wounded twice.

The first time was in an alley when his platoon was driven back by a grenade assault. Stokes took some shrapnel - again, with Brad Adams - but he kept up return fire, allowing his buddies to pull back safely. Stokes hid his wounds, fearing a mandatory evacuation. He wouldn't abandon his platoon.

Days later, First Platoon was entering yet another house. Lance Cpl. Philip Peterson later told O'Donnell: "There were four open doors, a stairwell, and one closed door. It was a black door on a black wall. It was the creepiest looking thing I've ever seen. Stokes and I looked at this door, and we both said: 'We'll save that one for last.' "

But the door opened and an AK47 poked out, firing at knee level. The Marines returned fire, and as the door was shut, a grenade rolled out.

The blast sent the 6-foot Stokes flying. "It was like being hit with a bowling ball," he said later. There was more enemy fire, more grenades. The Marines scrambled to get out, but another blast knocked Stokes down again. Once outside, the platoon noticed he wasn't with them.

He was on the floor of the house, firing back at an enemy that was closing in. He ran out of ammo. The enemy was still firing, still lobbing grenades his way.

Lance Cpl. Heath Kramer finally crashed through a door behind Stokes, who was woozy and disoriented from the succession of blasts, and dragged him outside.

Earning two Purple Hearts and the admiration of his peers wasn't enough to clear Stokes' record. A second tour of Iraq brought a promotion, but the threat of discharge remained. He was offered a seven-month extension, with a third deployment, but after that he would be out.

Gary Stokes advised his son to turn down the extension.

"You done your part, buddy," he told Sean. "You don't need to do any more."

He was taken aback by Sean's angry, vehement response.

"I have to support all those guys," Sean told his dad. "We have to support them all. I have to make sure I hold up my end of the bargain as long as I can."

Stokes didn't want his family to worry, so he misled them about the deployment. He said he would be aboard ship, probably in the Mediterranean.

Gary Stokes didn't learn that Sean was actually in Iraq until the knock on the door at 6:30 a.m. on July 30.

"Following your dreams shouldn't kill you, but it killed Sean. It's really just tragic," says O'Donnell, who befriended Stokes and helped draft the Silver Star recommendation.

Neither a medal, nor a nation's thanks, can compensate for such a loss or fully honor such devotion and self-sacrifice. At best, we can promise to never forget, and determine to support all those guys, to hold up our end of the bargain as long as we can.