Children of U.S. soldiers are war’s unseen casualties

Children of U.S. soldiers are war’s unseen casualties
Almost 900 youngsters have lost a parent in Iraq

By LISA HOFFMAN AND ANNETTE RAINVILLE

Sad to the depths of his 4-year-old soul, Jack Shanaberger knew what he didn’t want to be when he grows up: a father.

“I don’t want to be a daddy because daddies die,” the child solemnly told his mother after his father, Staff Sgt. Wentz “Baron” Shanaberger, a military policeman from Fort Pierce, Fla., was killed March 23 in an ambush in Iraq.

On that terrible day, Jack and his four siblings joined the ranks of the largely overlooked American casualties who, until now, have gone uncounted. Although almost daily official announcements tally the war dead, the collateral damage to the children left behind has not been detailed.

But, from Defense Department casualty reports, obituaries and accounts in hometown newspapers, and family interviews, Scripps Howard News Service has identified nearly 900 U.S. children who have lost a parent in the war, from the start of the conflict in March 2003 through November, when a total of 1,256 troops had died.

Although comparably specific historical data are not available for other U.S. wars, military experts said the proportionally higher number of American children left bereaved by the Iraq war is unprecedented.

“This is a new state of affairs we have to confront,” said Charles Moskos, a leading military sociologist and Northwestern University professor.

Overall, Americans in uniform today are far more likely to be married and have children than in the military of the past, Moskos and others said. And the reliance in Iraq on reserve forces — who tend to be older and even more settled than active-duty soldiers — also means more offspring at home.

Even though the federal government provides an array of benefits for widows, widowers and minor children, more help is needed — including counseling — for at least 882 American children left without a parent from the war in Iraq.

“As much as we are concerned about veterans programs, we now have to be concerned about orphan programs,” Moskos said. “This is the first time we have crossed this threshold.”

According to the Scripps research, more than 40 percent of the 1,256 war dead through November were married, and 429 had children. At least half those youngsters were 10 years old or younger. Among the parents who died were six female soldiers who had borne a total of 10 children among them — another historic first for women in the U.S. military.

Perhaps most heartbreaking are the more than 40 service members who died without ever seeing their children. At least 34 wives were pregnant — four with twins — when their husbands died, and 15 others had babies while their spouses were deployed. Although some of the latter were able to return home on paternity leave, most died before they could.

Among those who never held their babies was Army 1st Lt. Doyle Hufstedler, 25, of Abilene, Texas, who was killed in March when a roadside bomb hit his armored personnel carrier near Habbaniyah. In his uniform pocket, Hufstedler carried a sonogram picture of his unborn daughter, the only image he would ever have of Grace Ashley, who arrived six weeks after his death.

Ursula Pirtle gave birth to Katie, her husband’s first-born and spitting image, 27 days after Army Spc. James Heath Pirtle, 27, of La Mesa, N.M., was killed Oct. 3, 2003, in an insurgent attack north of Baghdad.

“It’s almost hard to look at her sometimes,” Ursula Pirtle, who now lives in Harker Heights, Texas, wrote in a posthumous online letter to her husband. “I would give my right arm to get a chance to see you two together … I know she would be the biggest joy you’ve ever known.”

Despite their losses, Pirtle and most other surviving spouses say they still support the war. They say they are profoundly proud of their loved ones’ willingness to give their lives for their country and to help bring democracy to Iraq. That pride helps their children cope as well.

Veronica Collier of Harrison, Ark., found great solace in her husband’s undimmed belief that the Iraq war was not only justified, but also engendering more good than the media have portrayed. A father of four, her husband, Army National Guard Sgt. Russell Collier, 48, was killed Oct. 3 trying to help a fellow soldier under fire in Taji, Iraq.

“He died doing what he loved,” Collier told a newspaper.

By all accounts, children also bring a measure of comfort to the bereaved spouses and other relatives, providing a tangible link to the parent who is gone. Hufstedler’s widow, Leslie, said her daughter is a perpetual prod to get on with life.

In Hinesville, Ga., Denise Marshall had a sad Christmas.  The holiday for which her husband, Army Sgt. 1st Class Robert Marshall, once handled the biggest decorating chores.

That is the least of the new widow’s problems. Since Marshall, 50, was killed in a rocket-propelled gun attack in April 2003, his wife has struggled financially and otherwise to care for their three children, all of whom have medical disabilities. The trio is getting counseling to help with the loss, but the emotional wound remains fresh.

More than a year after his father’s death, Marshall’s son, Richard, 16, still has a hard time sleeping. Once, his mother said, Richard asked her, “Did Dad love his soldiers more than he loved us?”

The fierce love many fallen soldiers had for their children is evident in both the reasons they joined the service and in letters they sent home.

Pfc. Stephen Downing, 30, of Burkesville, Ky., gave up his truck-driving job to join the Army to provide a better life for his children, Taylor, 9, and Stephen, 5.

“His kids were everything in the world for him,” Downing’s ex-wife, LeAnn Emmons, told a local newspaper.

A man with a soft spot for all children, Downing — killed Oct. 28 by a sniper in Ramadi — told his family he would also be fighting for the children of Iraq. “He told his kids that he wanted Iraqi kids to have the same opportunities (American) kids do,” Emmons said.

It was his own bottomless love for his wife and two daughters that gave rise to the worst fear for Army Chief Warrant Officer William Brennan, an Army helicopter pilot killed in a crash Oct. 16 on a mission to protect Iraqi civilians fleeing under fire from insurgents.

“It’s not the fear of death that wears me down. It is the feeling of not being there for my three girls,” Brennan, 36, of Bethlehem, Conn., wrote in an Easter letter to his sister. Only 2 years old when his own father died, Brennan worried that, if he were killed, his children “would never know me.”

Corey Shanaberger, widow of the Florida MP killed in March, is doing everything she can so her children will remember their father in both life and death. Baron Shanaberger left instructions that, if he died, his five kids should be permitted to see him in his coffin, believing that would help them come to terms with his passing and provide them some closure.

At the funeral home viewing, Jack and his twin sister, Grace, climbed up so they could touch and kiss him in his open casket. The children placed precious mementos in the coffin with him — a little red truck, a stuffed puppy dog, a favorite doll, a photo.

Now, each night when the stars are out, Corey Shanaberger tells her children that one star is their daddy coming out of heaven to watch over them. They all blow a kiss to the sky.

“I always tell my children, ‘You might forget what your daddy looked like, but always remember what he felt like,’ ” she said. “Always remember his hugs, always remember his kisses, and always remember his love.”

MOTHERS WHO DIED

In all, six mothers in uniform have died in Iraq between the start of the war in March 2003 and the end of November, leaving behind a total of 10 children. Overall, 27 women troops have died in the war.

Among the mothers were:

Army Pfc. Lori Piestewa, 23

Piestewa, the first female American soldier killed in combat in Iraq, was also the first U.S. military mother to die in the war. She died in the March 23, 2003, ambush in which Pfc. Jessica Lynch was captured in Nasiriyah. She had two children, Brandon, 4, and Carla, 3. Both now are being raised by their grandparents in El Paso, Texas.

Spc. Jessica Cawvey, 21

Another single Army mother, she joined the Illinois National Guard to build a better life for her daughter, Sierra, 6. In Iraq since February, Cawvey, died Oct. 6 when a roadside bomb exploded as her convoy passed near Fallujah.

Cawvey “wasn’t the military type,” her mother, Sandra Cawvey, told a local newspaper. She enlisted in the Guard simply to help pay for college so she could get a decent job. Before she deployed to Iraq, Cawvey had been living with her parents and Sierra, and working on a bachelor’s degree in accounting at Illinois State University.

The affect of Cawvey’s death on Sierra was somewhat cushioned by the fact that the child is continuing to live with her grandparents in Mahomet, Ill. “She’s doing just fine,” said Clarence Cawvey, Jessica’s uncle. “It’s more like she lost a sister.”

Army Sgt. Pamela Osbourne, 38

Less than a week after Cawvey died, Osbourne was killed by shrapnel from a rocket attack on her camp in Baghdad. A native of Jamaica, Osbourne came to America when she was 14 with two dreams — to become a U.S. citizen and to serve in the military.

A medical condition could have kept her out of Iraq duty, but Osbourne was determined to serve her country, her husband Rohan Osbourne told a local newspaper in Hollywood, Fla.

While she was deployed, her husband tended to their three children, ages 9 to 19. A supply specialist, Osbourne managed to call home almost every day, between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m.

She made her husband promise not to hide anything from the kids if the worst happened.

“Even if I come home in a box, you should know that I did it for (all of) you. Take care of the kids. Stay strong,” Osbourne told her spouse.

HELP FOR FAMILIES

When a U.S. service member is killed on duty, his family is entitled to an array of benefits.

Among other help, the family can receive a one-time payment of $12,000, burial benefits, life insurance proceeds, and at least $967 a month in survivor compensation. In some cases, the Department of Veterans Affairs also will pay $241 a month for each child left without a parent.

But, due to the vagaries of regulations and individual circumstances, the amount a surviving family receives varies and, in many cases, does not stretch far enough to cover a family’s expenses.

Across the country, some friends, relatives and co-workers of troops who have died in Iraq have set up funds for the families or for their children’s educations.

There also are several national groups that help military families in need, and, in some cases, accept donations from the public. Among them are:

Givens was killed May 1, 2003, when his tank tumbled into the Euphrates River when a riverbank gave way. He wrote what follows to his sons, Dakota, 5, and Carson, who was born four weeks after Givens’ death:

“Dakota — You are more son than I could ever ask for. I can only hope I was half the dad. You taught me how to care until it hurts, you taught me how to smile again. You taught me that life isn’t so serious and sometimes you have to play. You have a big, beautiful heart. Through life you need to keep it open and follow it.

“Never be afraid to be yourself. I will always be there in our park when you dream so we can still play together. I hope someday you will have a son like mine. Make them smile and shine just like you. I hope someday you will understand why I didn’t come home. Please, be proud of me. Please don’t stop loving life. Take in every breath like it’s your first. I will always be there with you. I’ll be in the sun, shadows, dreams and joys of your life.

“Bean (his pet name for the unborn Carson) — I never got to see you but I know in my heart you are beautiful. I will always have with me the feel of the soft nudges on your mom’s belly, and the joy I felt when we found out you were on the way.

“I dream of you every night, and I always will. Don’t ever think that since I wasn’t around that I didn’t love you. You were conceived of love and I came to this terrible place for love. Please understand that I had to be gone so that I could take care of my family. I love you, Bean.”