[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 76 (Thursday, June 16, 1994)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
[Congressional Record: June 16, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]
VETERANS OF SOMALIA--WE MUST NEVER FORGET
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HON. ROBERT K. DORNAN
of california
in the house of representatives
Thursday, June 16, 1994
Mr. DORNAN. Mr. Speaker, I would like to include in the Record the
final five stories of American soldiers killed in action in Somalia
last year. We must never forget.
Before His Own Death, He Mourned a Somali
ssgt. ronald n. richerson
The First Southern Baptist Church in Portage, Ind., across
the street from the house in which SSgt. Ronald N. Richerson
grew up, became a central part of his life. Max Richerson
says he raised his children the way he was raised--to have
faith and to serve God.
``We brought him up that way,'' Richerson says. ``It didn't
seem--it never does when they're kids--like it was going to
take hold, but when he got up in high school, he got to where
he'd go over to the church and read his Bible and pray. When
he came home on leave, he always went over there.''
Ronald Richerson, 24, died Aug. 8 when a remotely detonated
mine exploded while he was on patrol in Somalia. He had been
with the 300th Military Police Company, Fort Leonard Wood,
Mo.
The other focal point of his life was the military, his
father says. Max Richerson says he had expected his son to
enlist.
``He always had an interest in it. When he was little, he
liked playing Army. Even when he got up to be a teenager, he
had buddies that would go back here in the woods and play
Army.
``He loved his country. It never surprised me at all when
he said he wanted to join the Army. I was all for it. God and
country. That's the way I was brought up, and that's the way
we brought up all our kids.''
Ronald Richerson took to the military life. He fired
marksman and completed air assault and SWAT team training.
``He was very dedicated,'' Max Richerson says. ``He was
always willing to give a hand and always volunteering to help
somebody learn something.''
The tour in Somalia somehow brought together his faith and
his sense of service. Ronald Richerson had planned to stay in
the military, until he saw the starving and the sick in
Somalia. Then, Ronald and his wife, Teresa, began thinking
about going back to Somalia as missionaries.
But even as he saw the need to help the Somalis, Ronald
Richerson also saw the danger. He talked to his parents after
his unit had encountered an ambush. He had shot and killed a
Somali.
``He'd been ambushed three times,'' Max Richerson says.
``He called here the last time he was ambushed . . . They
were hiding in the bushes beside the road and started
shooting at him and throwing grenades. And he had to kill his
first person. He was all upset about that.''
Ronald Richerson talked about dying. The elder Richerson
says the family is comforted knowing he had been aware of the
possibility and had accepted it.
``He said, `I don't think I'm going to die over there, but
if I do, that's what I'm in the service for,''' Max Richerson
says. ``He seemed to be willing to give up his life for his
country.''
``It did help us, knowing that he felt the way he did.''
In addition to his family's memories, Ronald Richerson left
behind his favorite Bible passage, from Isaiah:
``But they that wait upon the Lord shall mount up on wings
as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall
walk and not faint.''
A Team Man All His Life, He Was a Proud Ranger
sfc matthew l. rierson
Their names--Matthew, Jacob and Kaleb--evoke images of
biblical characters, searching earnestly in some historical
place for morality, equality and freedom. Surely that
comparison would sit well with SFC Matthew L. Rierson, if the
eldest of the trio were alive to hear it.
Jacob, 5, and Kaleb, 2\1/2\, ``are very curious boys, and
Matt never tired of explaining to them, or exploring with
them,'' says Matthew Rierson's widow, Patricia of their two
sons. ``The nature of the Army was such that he couldn't
spend a lot of time with them, but when he did, they spent a
lot of time outdoors, playing and exploring * * * father-son
bonding.''
She says her husband joined the Army after high school
``for the adventure and experiences. He heard that he could
get in the Ranger battalion, he wanted to be an elite soldier
* * *.''
Matthew Rierson, 33, was a ``team'' man. He spent much of
his high school years on the football team and wrestling
squad. He was a competitive pistoleer, but got more
satisfaction out of getting to know the other guys who
participated.
And his wife of 9\1/2\ years says he was especially proud
of being a member of the Army's Special Forces Command, ``but
it wasn't so much about the daring missions they
orchestrated, but about how well his unit worked as a team,
how they planned together and were successful at carrying out
their tasks.''
That's why she never worried about him when he went on
missions with his unit.
``They were so well trained and so precise in what they
did,'' she says. ``I know that's naive, but we grew up in
Iowa, our cups were always half full, not half empty. We both
knew the Army could be a dangerous job, but we never dwelled
on it.''
But Oct. 6, the unthinkable happened. Matthew Rierson was
killed in a mortar attack in Somalia. His last conversation
with his wife occurred five days before he died. ``His unit
set up phone calls on the base and the kids went with me. We
talked about how things were going back home, how we missed
each other, that we loved each other.''
During his 12-year Army career, Matthew Rierson received a
number of awards, including the Bronze Star, Defense
Meritorious Service Medal, Meritorious Service Medal and
Combat Infantryman Badge. The Purple Heart he was awarded
after his death rests in his widow's bedroom, alongside the
American flag, a unit memorial bronze eagle and all his other
ribbons and awards.
``I'm extremely proud of what he did,'' Patricia Rierson
says. ``The only frustration I feel is the way the political
focus changed so dramatically after the 3d and 4th of
October.
``They sent our soldiers over to do a job, they made a
commitment. But when they pulled out, they left a lot of
things unfinished. My only concern is that they really think
about how they are committing sons and fathers and husbands
when they make these decisions, and they should follow it
through.''
These Memories Are of a Kid Doing Farm Chores
sfc randall d. shughart
Lincoln, Neb-born SFC Randall D. Shughart was raised on a
modest dairy farm in Newville, Pa. And his mother says he did
his daily chores there with a zeal uncommon among most
youngsters.
``Every day he did it, without complaint,'' says his
mother, Lois Shughart, from her home in Blain, Pa. ``He and
his brothers had to get up early and work * * * milking cows,
working in the fields, plowing the land, mowing and baling
the hay * * *.''
But Randall Shughart loved every minute of it. His passion
for farming was rivaled only by his interest in the Army.
``He was always reading books about soldiers and important
Army generals,'' his mother says.
At 17, Randall Shughart enlisted in the Army in 1975 under
the Delayed Entry Program while he was still a student at
Newville's Big Spring High School. But after three years of
active duty, he decided to get out, join the Reserves and try
his hand at running the farm with his father. But his mother
says that didn't work.
``We needed a bigger farm to justify two men running it, so
Randy went back in the service. But he would have come back
to it eventually. It was his life.''
But Randall Shughart never got a chance to return to dairy
farming. He was killed Oct. 4 during his successful effort to
save the life of a downed pilot in Somalia, an action for
which he will be awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously. He
was 35, and had been married to Stephanie Shughart for less
than two years.
``I always encouraged him in his Army things,'' says Lois
Shughart. ``What happened in Somalia was something I knew
could happen, but he always assured me that he and his unit
were so well trained and so very careful, that it wasn't
likely.''
She keeps her son's Purple Heart in a knick-knack cabinet
with some other things. Then there's the other awards he
received during his 14 years of active duty: the Defense
Meritorious Service Medal, the Army Commendation Medal, the
Bronze Star, two Army Achievement Medals. He also earned the
Combat Infantryman Badge and the Ranger and Special Forces
tab.
But when she thinks about her second-to-the-oldest child,
Lois Shughart doesn't remember a well-trained soldier in
green. She remembers a little boy with brown hair, running
around on a farm with his brother and two sisters. A little
boy happy to milk cows and mow the hay. A little boy with his
nose buried in a book.
Her voice breaks as she tries to sum up his life in a
couple of words.
``He liked animals * * *. He was always nice and friendly
to people. He was just a good boy.''
He Said It Was Tough To Spot The Bad Guys
CPL. JAMES E. SMITH JR.
Cpl. James E. Smith Jr., 21, could succeed at anything.
Anything he put his mind to, that is.
His mother, Caroline Smith, says her son had an independent
streak. ``He had to make his own choices,'' Caroline Smith
says. ``Throughout high school, we would have wished that he
had paid more attention to his grades. Then, his senior year,
he made the dean's list. He said that as a senior, he was
entitled to be exempted from finals [for making the dean's
list]. That was what he wanted--to be exempt from finals.''
James Smith Jr. was an athlete in high school--football and
lacrosse. He planned to go to college, like his parents
wished. But that independent streak showed again when he
enlisted and volunteered for the Rangers.
James Smith Sr. told his son the risks he might face. ``I
know my husband spoke pretty graphically to Jamie about what
he was getting himself into,'' Caroline Smith says. ``But
this is what he wanted to do.''.
His letters home from Somalia indicated things weren't
going smoothly. ``The way he put it in his letters was that
it was very, very tough to know who the bad guys were,''
Caroline Smith says.
That's why the Smiths are wary of the Clinton
administration. They feel President Clinton and his national
security team lost control of the Somalia mission. James
Smith Jr. was killed in the Oct. 3 firefight. He received the
Bronze Star Medal for valor.
``The Army is doing an exemplary job to make sure these
young men are prepared for any event,'' Caroline Smith says.
``They're just being misused by an administration that is
deploying them irresponsibly.''
That belief is a troublesome one for the Smiths, not only
because of their son's death, but because another son, Todd,
wants to enlist after high school.
Todd Smith doesn't disagree with his parents' assessment of
Clinton. ``What he's wrestling with is that this is something
that he always wanted to do,'' Caroline Smith says. ``It's
not that he's following in his brother's footsteps--he has
his own agenda.''
So do the Smiths. ``As a disabled Vietnam veteran,'' James
Smith Sr. told a May 12 Senate hearing on the Somalia
operation, ``I had the responsibility, the obligation to
ensure that my son's generation did not suffer the fate of
his father's generation.''
``I'll Always be Able to Return, Remember''
Washington.--It has happened on or about the third of each
month since last fall.
An honor guard of six Rangers, accompanied by a
noncommissioned officer, marches solemnly to a grave site in
Fort Benning, Ga's cemetery. They flank the mound, three on
each side. And at 1730, as the base flag is lowered for
retreat, they salute the fallen soldier. Sometimes the NCO
says a prayer or reads a scripture.
Cpl. James Smith Jr. is buried there. Of the six Rangers
killed from the 3d Ranger Battalion in Somalia, Smith was the
only one buried at Fort Benning. Since that failed operation,
his comrades in the 3d Ranger Battalion at Fort Benning have
relied on the monthly tribute to help them remember ``how
serious our business is, how dangerous it is, and how special
being a Ranger is,'' said Lt. Col. Danny McKnight, battalion
commander.
McKnight, 43, doesn't attend every monthly ceremony, but he
often makes his own pilgrimage to the site for a private
memorial. ``It just reminds me of how much our soldiers, our
Rangers, gave that day,'' he said. ``Of how they went above
and beyond what anybody expected to do.''
During the Oct. 3 operation Task Force Ranger, in
Magadishu, Somalia, most of the Rangers from the 3d Battalion
were part of a convoy of Humvees and trucks led by McKnight.
Smith was one of the foot soldiers heading toward a
helicopter crash site when Somalia gunfire killed him.
``The unfortunate loss of six Rangers could have been much
greater except for the great sacrifices of people like Cpl.
Smith,'' said McKnight, who was shot in the arm that day.
Two of the fallen Rangers are buried at Arlington National
Cemetery in Arlington, Va. The others are buried in their
hometowns. But Smith, a native of Long Valley, N.J., was
buried at Fort Benning because that's where he Rangered, and
that's what he would have wanted, his father, Vietnam veteran
James Smith Sr., told McKnight.
``That's always meant a lot to me.'' McKnight said. ``It's
a special place, someplace I'll always be able to return to,
to remember.''
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