Ft. Lewis Remembers Six Strykers Killed in Mess Tent Suicide Blast

One day last week, Steff VanKomen opened the door to find the Christmas package her husband had sent home from Iraq. Half an hour later, she got another knock at the door -- this one to tell her that her husband was dead.

Staff Sgt. Darren D. VanKomen, 33, was one of six Stryker Brigade soldiers eulogized Wednesday in a tear-filled memorial service at Ft. Lewis, a few miles south of Tacoma. They were among 22 people killed Dec. 21 when a man, apparently dressed in an Iraqi military uniform, set off a suicide bomb in a mess tent near Mosul in the deadliest attack yet at a U.S. base in Iraq.

The service was marked by a haunting end, with the traditional roll call for brigade members: For each of the three times that each soldier’s name was called, his name echoing off the walls, an empty silence came back in return.

It was a grim counterpoint to the elation that had spread around parts of the base earlier last week. That was when 125 soldiers of the 502nd Military Intelligence Battalion, away since January, returned from their post near the Baghdad airport.

As some of those reunited families clutched each other tightly during the service inside a large base gymnasium, the empty boots and combat helmets on the stage were silent reminders of the six who did not make it home alive.

VanKomen left behind a 34-year-old widow and a 13-year-old stepdaughter, with whom he had insisted on celebrating Christmas even if it meant sending a few trinkets from the Middle East -- an attention to detail, his colleagues said, that was characteristic of a master of logistics.

“His response was always, ‘Sir, yes sir; it’s taken care of,’ ” said Capt. Vincent Maykovich, of the 2nd Squadron, 14th Cavalry Regiment.

“If they have a supply room” in heaven, Maykovich said, VanKomen “is running it right now. He is truly taking care of it.”

The memorial service was attended by about 500 people, including soldiers, relatives, friends, Washington Gov. Gary Locke and U.S. Sen. Maria Cantwell.

Ft. Lewis has lost 37 soldiers in Iraq since the war began in March 2003, a death toll that puts it among the 10 highest for any military installation. California’s Camp Pendleton has lost the most -- 212 Marines -- since combat operations began. Next is the Army’s Ft. Hood in Texas, with 136 fatalities.

Among the family members of the six dead Strykers, there was a range of emotions about the war. Some said they took great consolation in their belief that a husband, son or brother had died in a noble cause; others were bitter.

“It’s a disaster,” said Jorge Castro, the father of Spc. Jonathan Castro, 21, who died in the attack.

The elder Castro, acknowledging he was diverting from a script that Pentagon authorities had suggested in case reporters inquired after his son, said in a telephone interview from his home in Corona that he was angry about the security flaws that allowed the bomber to get into the base mess hall.

And he said he did not think that troops were being provided the proper equipment, or sent in sufficient numbers, to secure a peaceful Iraq.

Castro did not attend the service; instead he was preparing for his son’s funeral today in Riverside.

Jonathan Castro, who loved riding horses with his father, was remembered Wednesday as a jokester.

“No matter what kind of day you were having, he could come up to you and say something just off-the-wall funny and make you bust up laughing,” said Sgt. Christopher Speck of the 73rd Engineer Co.

As Speck spoke, Tracy Johnson, 27, a former Navy medic and a friend of Castro’s, laughed through her tears. Wads of tissues were at her feet and those of several other mourners nearby.

Johnson’s husband, Sgt. Travis Johnson, 27, is in Iraq, stationed at the base near Mosul where the explosion occurred. She said goodbye to her husband and Castro when they left Ft. Lewis in a bus in October on the first leg of their trip to the Middle East.

Travis Johnson was in a residence hall when the bombing occurred; he quickly ran to the scene, he said in a phone call to his wife.

Tracy Johnson recalled her own tour of duty in 2003, when she spent three months in southern Iraq as a medic for the Marines.

“The things that you see -- the inability to help more people -- watching people losing their life so young,” she said, her voice trailing off and her eyes brimming again with tears.

The VanKomen family took comfort in knowing that Darren died “doing what he wanted to do.”

“He really loved the military,” Andrea VanKomen said of her brother-in-law.

Darren VanKomen, an Idaho native, twice finished tours of duty with the Army and returned to civilian life. Both times, however, he wound up reenlisting; he began his third tour a year and a half ago.

“He was just not a civilian,” said Andrea VanKomen, who is married to one of his six brothers. “He absolutely needed to have structure in his life, and the military does do that for you.”

Several soldiers delivering the eulogies Wednesday choked back tears.

“I would gladly trade places with Bill, and have him talking about me up here instead,” Capt. David Barbuto said of Capt. William W. Jacobsen Jr., 31.

Barbuto called Jacobsen “the epitome of a warrior, gentleman, husband and father.” Jacobsen, who died on his ninth wedding anniversary, leaves behind his widow, as well as three sons and a daughter ranging in age from 2 to 8.

Others remembered Wednesday were Staff Sgt. Julian S. Melo, 47, a Panamanian native and supply specialist who lived in Brooklyn and then the Ft. Lewis area for much of his adult life; Staff Sgt. Robert S. Johnson, 23, a chemical operations specialist from Castro Valley, Calif.; and Pfc. Lionel Ayro, 22, a combat engineer from Jeanerette, La.

“Our hearts have holes in them that will never be filled,” Ayro’s friend, Sgt. Efrain Rodriguez, said, recalling a death that came on the day of the winter solstice, which another Stryker referred to as “the longest and shortest day of the year.”