[Mb-civic] " We die along with these kids'"

[Jef Bek]

CLEVELAND.COM

THE PLAIN DEALER


We die along with these kids'

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Connie Schultz
Plain Dealer Columnist

As Jeanette Schroeder rounded the corner

of her front yard with the lawn mower, she spotted two Marines standing at
her brother Paul Schroeder's front door Wednesday.

Immediately, she knew.

"Oh, no!" she sobbed. "Oh, no! Oh, no!"

The two men looked at her, then stepped away from the door and started
walking toward her.

She froze. 

Her hands released the safety bar on her mower. The street went silent.

As they walked closer, she almost told them, "You've got the wrong house."

But she knew. 

Fourteen members of Brook Park's 25th Regiment, 3rd Battalion Marines were
killed Wednesday by a roadside bomb in Iraq.

It was the same battalion that lost five Marines on Monday.

It was the same battalion in which her nephew, Augie, served.

Jeanette just knew.

She nodded when they asked if she knew the family next door in her Cleveland
neighborhood. 

"He's my brother," she said. "They probably didn't hear the doorbell."

She was sure her brother and his wife, Rosemary Palmer, were upstairs,
hovering over their computer as they frantically searched the Internet for
any news about the latest group of Marines who had been killed in Iraq.

Earlier that morning, Rosemary had given Jeanette a printout quoting
skeletal news reports about the attack on Marines in Haditha. After reading
it, Jeanette had a bad feeling. She prayed all the way to her doctor's
appointment. She prayed on her drive to the grocery store, too, and all the
way home. 

Please, God, not Augie.

Now, about 10:30 a.m., two Marines were standing in her yard, asking to
speak to Augie's parents.

Aunt Nettie - that's what Augie always called her - offered to run into her
house to call his parents.

"No," one of the Marines said gently. "We have to talk to them in person."

Jeanette ran through Paul's back door and started to scream.

"Paul! Paul! Get down here. Just get down here now!"

Paul and Rosemary saw the grim faces on the men at their door and they knew,
too. They stood motionless as one of the Marines began to speak.

"We regret to inform you that Edward August Schroeder II . . ."

And they knew. 

Two weeks ago, Augie had called home from Iraq after spending 26 days in the
field. They had not heard from him for five weeks, and their son's voice
seemed to reflect a change in his convictions about this war.

"When he first arrived in Iraq in March, he was full of optimism about what
his good intentions could accomplish," Paul said.

But Augie's enthusiasm eroded over time, and his father said he will never
forget what his son told him.

"The closer we are to departure, the less 'worth it' this has become," Augie
said. 

In a way, Paul was heartened by his son's words.

"When you first get there, you think everything's hunky-dory," he said. "But
after four operations, the insurgents were still there. He didn't think they
were having any effect. I heard him and thought, 'Well, the bloom is off the
rose.' I was opposed to this war before it even started, and my son is a
sharp kid." 

He caught himself. 

"Was," he said, as he started to sob. "My son was a sharp kid.

"Oh, Jesus." 

Augie was 23 years old. He was six weeks from coming home.

While we don't yet have exact numbers, we now know that Ohio has lost about
80 soldiers and Marines to the Iraq war.

And there is no end in sight.

That haunts Paul Schroeder.

In the first hours after he learned that his son was dead, Paul wrote a
short statement. 

"I hope people forgive me for what I have to say," he began. "I just don't
care anymore." 

He listed who he blamed for Augie's death.

"I hold the Bush administration responsible, from the president through the
secretaries of state and defense and all those who have had a hand in
starting this war. 

"I also hold every Democrat in Congress who voted to authorize this
misadventure as accomplices."

His son, he wrote, "died doing his duty. So have some 1,800 other Americans.

"Augie did his duty at every turn, from being an emergency medical
technician while still in high school, a lifeguard, a Boy Scout, an active
church member, and, of course, as a Marine. For all this, we consider him a
hero. 

"To honor him, I no longer can sit still, just keeping quiet and being
politically correct."

In her own way, Augie's mother also issued a statement. She made the call at
8:18 Wednesday morning, about two hours before she learned that Augie was
dead. 

Rosemary had sobbed the day Augie enlisted. She had begged him not to go to
Iraq. On Wednesday, hers was the desperate plea of a mother trying to find
out if her son was still alive.

She left this phone message for Plain Dealer reporter Brian Albrecht, who
has steadfastly chronicled the war's impact here:

"This is Rosemary Palmer," she said. "I'm the mother of one of the many
Marines who are deployed right now. My son is currently in Haditha and we
just heard the news story this morning that 14 Marines in Haditha were
killed. 

"We are all obviously going nuts . . . I know you can't give out the names
of people who haven't been notified, but if you have those names of the ones
who have died, if you could let us know as soon as possible, I would really
appreciate it - because we die along with these kids . . ."

Her voice broke. 

She recited her number.

Then she hung up the phone.

 

To reach this Plain Dealer columnist:

cschultz at plaind.com, 216-999-5087

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