#3044 Postby TexasStooge » Fri Oct 28, 2005 6:57 am
To mom, death more than statistic
Soldier, one of 2,000 killed in Iraq, never questioned enlistment
By EMILY RAMSHAW / The Dallas Morning News
CLANTON, Ala. – The death of her son came as the U.S. death toll in Iraq reached 2,000, a symbolic number that runs parallel to growing public anxiety over the war.
But numbers mean nothing to Ann Spence.
Drained of tears and slumped motionless in a dining room chair, she is immersed in grief for her firstborn.
Staff Sgt. George Alexander was distressed in the weeks leading up to his ninth trip to the Middle East. He moped around his mother's home. He complained of moodiness and depression but refused to see a doctor. And he told his minister that the continuing death and instability in Iraq were getting to him.
He dreaded going back.
The behavior was a drastic departure for the experienced and deeply patriotic infantryman who, as a young Army enlistee, had gone eagerly – almost hungrily – to Saudi Arabia and Kuwait during Desert Storm.
But when August came, he packed up and shipped out again, trading peach trees and Southern cooking for combat missions and sand in his teeth.
Two months later, a Humvee carrying Sgt. Alexander and his best friend was blown apart by a roadside bomb. Sgt. Alexander died Saturday. His friend Staff Sgt. Alwin Cashe is hooked up to a breathing machine and fighting for his life in San Antonio.
At her modest house in Clanton, Ms. Spence folds and unfolds her hands, staring at her lap as she tries to articulate the pain. Every word is a struggle, but she doesn't need to say anything. The pain is written on her face.
"I'm heartbroken," she whispers, running a shaky palm over her matted, graying hair. "It's very hard to express the anger you feel. I never question God.
"But the first question you ask yourself is 'Why?' "
'Always in charge'
Thirty-four years ago, Ms. Spence gave birth to George Alexander Jr. in an Army hospital in Virginia, where her husband was stationed. The young family spent two years in Germany before the marriage fell apart, and Ms. Spence took her toddler back to her family in Clanton.
Ms. Spence tells this story in her overflowing and cluttered living room while gathering support in the eyes of solemn relatives.
As a child, she said, Sgt. Alexander was "always in charge." He organized the kids on this narrow block of tumbledown homes east of Clanton's railroad track into football and basketball games. He served as a junior officer at the Baptist church not one mile away. As tough as he tried to be, he was "as sweet as pie."
"He always wanted to be a father for everybody," she said.
But education wasn't his thing. When he graduated from Chilton County High School in 1989, Sgt. Alexander decided "12 years was enough" and turned his nose up at college, his mother said.
Ms. Spence wasn't about to let him sit at home. And in this farming town of 7,800, where peaches and Wal-Mart run the local economy, Sgt. Alexander swore he "wasn't going to flip hamburgers or wash cars," she said. "He was going to be a man."
The scrawny, dark-skinned teenager, with thick, wire-rimmed glasses and the first signs of facial hair, enlisted during the first war against Iraq. He was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 15th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Brigade of the 3rd Infantry Division at Fort Benning, Ga. In his first years in the service, he grew into a bulky 6-footer whose appearance surprised childhood friends. But he never lost his signature grin, his mother said.
Sgt. Alexander spent much of the past decade based at Fort Hood, Texas, which specializes in field exercises for heavy armor. But more often than not, he was overseas. He was a skilled tank gunner in a high-profile unit, family members said, and when soldiers were called to duty, Sgt. Alexander was the first to leave and the last to come home.
Strong family ties
In between tours of duty he met his wife, Killeen native Fina Graham, and they had a son, Jsai, now 8. Sgt. Alexander also has a daughter, 5-year-old Alexandria.
Ms. Graham and Sgt. Alexander have been separated a few years. But the children, particularly his son, brought out a new side of Sgt. Alexander, his mother said.
"He treated him like a little old king," Ms. Spence says, pointing over buckets of fried chicken and coleslaw – comfort food for this day of mourning – to the collage of baby pictures pasted to the refrigerator. "He didn't want anyone else to touch him."
When Sgt. Alexander was called to duty for Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2003, his family in Clanton wasn't overly concerned; he'd been to the Middle East several times before and always returned without a scratch.
And he was diligent with his e-mails and Sunday night phone calls, brushing aside their worries with playful jokes and demanding good news – and lots and photos – from home.
His e-mails were short and sweet and hardly ever mentioned life in Iraq, his family said.
When he was in "home-mode," they said, he wanted to leave everything else behind. His only complaints were the extreme weather conditions (blistering hot days, freezing nights) and "eating a lot of sand," said longtime friend Thomas Coleman, who enlisted in the Army a year after Sgt. Alexander and now serves in the Army National Guard.
"The first time, he didn't have nothing bad to say about being over there," Ms. Spence said. "He told us he had a good friend, [Sgt.] Cashe, that watched his back."
But when Sgt. Alexander went back for his second rotation, his luck changed.
While running during a combat mission in Iraq last winter, he fell and broke his wrist. The injury required surgery and rehabilitation. He came back to the U.S. for treatment and was home for nearly eight months.
Mixed blessing
The time off was a mixed blessing. The slow pace of recovery frustrated him, but he couldn't get enough of his children. And he was never more at home than he was in Clanton, doting on his mother and sisters, chasing his dog around the living room and shooting the breeze with old friends under the American flag that dangles over the porch.
"His attitude was different," his sister Sasha Spence said, shoveling spoonfuls of vanilla pudding into the mouth of her squirming 2-year-old daughter. "He didn't have to say it. We could feel it."
Sgt. Alexander never second-guessed his decision to enlist. The Army had given him great opportunities, his sister said, and he intended to serve until retirement, just like his father.
Nor did he question the intent of the war in Iraq, his mother said, although, toward the end, it was clear he'd "done had enough."
As his time wound down, he became brooding and despondent, and Ms. Spence suggested he go see a doctor.
Sgt. Alexander resisted; he didn't want a diagnosis of depression on his military record. But he shared his anxiety with the Rev. Melvin Hunter, the family minister of 17 years.
In Iraq, Mr. Hunter said, Sgt. Alexander felt nervous and paranoid. He could never let his guard down and lived in fear of a surprise attack. This war was different. The enemy was so unpredictable.
"He said he was always having to watch his back," Mr. Hunter said, his wiry frame hunched over a cherry-red church pew. "Always having that sneaking feeling that he never knew what was going to happen, or from what direction." In the talks, Sgt. Alexander asked his pastor to pray for him, and he often recalled his favorite church anthem: "Watch, Fight and Pray."
"It was getting worse over there and he didn't want to go back," Mr. Hunter said. "But being in the service, it was an oath he had taken."
'A job to do'
In the first week of August, days before his 34th birthday, Sgt. Alexander left his family and returned to Iraq.
"He just kept saying he had a job to do," Ms. Spence said.
On Oct. 16, Sgt. Alexander seemed happy when he called his sister Sasha to check in. He teased her and asked for pictures of her new baby.
Within a day, the phone rang at Ms. Spence's house. Sgt. Alexander had suffered severe blast wounds and burns in a roadside bombing. His best friend and military brother, Sgt. Cashe, was in bad shape, too.
While Sgt. Alexander's family waited for an update, the Army sent him to Germany for treatment. By the time he was brought to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, there was little hope for him. He died Oct. 22. His death was announced Tuesday, the same day as two unidentified others.
The Pentagon, for political purposes, urged that no special attention be paid to the 2,000th death. Anti-war groups urged that extra attention be paid, for the same reason. The figure came about 400 days after the thousandth death, a rate of about 17 per week.
Sgt. Cashe is hanging on, in critical condition, at the same hospital where his best friend died. Ms. Spence and her daughters visited him last week.
This week, everyone was back in Clanton. They'll bury Sgt. Alexander on Saturday.
Yellow ribbons hug the trees and flags fly at half-staff in tribute to a hometown hero. This ritual has come to so many American towns since 2003, but Sgt. Alexander is the first soldier from this area to die in Iraq, Chilton County High School principal Larry Mahaffey said.
Not many of his high school graduates are interested in the military, Mr. Mahaffey said, but the military sure is interested in them.
"The recruiters are in here every day," he said.
0 likes