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I want to thank Wendell for asking me to be a guest blogger. I’m sure this will be a decision he regrets…..(sorry for the length of this post, but the following is important—at least to me).

Since Wendell’s given me free rein, my first blog will attempt to honor two extraordinary guys, both named Travis. I met them both in the Army; they both met their deaths in Iraq. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not pissed about it.

David Travis Friedrich:

We always called him Travis; I didn’t know his first name was David. He was a very gregarious and carefree guy and he ran circles around us all at PT. Turns out he ran cross-country in college. Travis was like a gazelle on the track.

Travis served in the 325th MI BN/B Company in Waterbury, Connecticut as an intelligence analyst. I was also in that unit. I knew him vaguely from a few reserve weekends prior to 9-11. Within weeks of 9-11, our unit was deployed to Fort Bragg. Before being called up for active duty after 9-11, Travis was in graduate school at the University of New Haven studying forensic science.

We got to know each other better at Bragg because we were two of the three sergeants in the unit fit enough to lead the “fast” run group at morning PT. (Of course, being a military intelligence unit, “fast” is a relative term.) So, every morning I got the great pleasure of running with Travis and a small group of fairly fit MI nerds.

Shortly after our arrival, however, Travis was sent elsewhere in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. Our “fast” run group got a lot slower after his departure and less entertaining. He always had funny stories about running miles and miles through the New England countryside at cross country meets. Most of the stories involved really skinny white guys running ridiculously long distances and then puking. Well, in retrospect, I guess his delivery was funnier than the actual stories. You had to be there.

In 2003, Travis was still a member of the 325th and was sent with the unit to Iraq. On September 20, 2003, a mortar round landed in the tent in the Abu Ghriab prison complex where Travis was working, killing him instantly. He was only 26.

I got an email from an Army and college buddy telling me about Travis’ death. Travis’ death hit me hard. He was in my unit. He was the first person killed in Iraq that I knew. Of course, I had been, and still am, upset about every death in Iraq, but when it happens to someone you know it’s just that much more debilitating.

Others in the unit, good friends, were injured in the mortar attack. In fact, I should have been there too. (I found out months later that our Commanding Officer decided not to call up those soldiers in the unit whom were within a couple of months of their End of Time in Service (ETS) date—I was one of those soldiers).

Here are some links about David Travis Friedrich:
Military Times on Travis
Hartford Courant on Travis

Travis Patriquin:

On December 6, 2006 in Ramadi, a roadside IED killed Army Captain Travis Patriquin, Marine Major Megan McClung and Army Specialist Vincent Pomante III. Since his death, Travis has become a bit of a milblog sensation thanks to his Power Point (PP) presentation “How to Win the War in Al Anbar.” That’s right, a PP slideshow. But this PP is different, especially for one used in a military briefing. It’s insightful, humorous, clear, succinct and haunting—all in only 18 stick-figured animated slides.

Trav’s PP: How to Win the War in Al Anbar

I met Travis in 1997 at the Defense Language Institute (DLI) where we were both studying Arabic. That’s where the similarities ended. I was a green 23-year-old Army Reservist fresh out of Basic Training toting a college degree and therefore an E-4 ranking (Ironically known as a Specialist. Double irony: I was a Specialist in Military Intelligence). Travis was a 22-year-old regular Army Special Forces Sergeant (E-5) with an Expert Infantry Badge and frontline experience. Despite these differences, we got along great. But, then again, everyone got along great with Travis.

I spent many a night at the Mucky Duck Tavern in Monterey (it was tough duty) with Travis and some other jokers who followed me from Fordham University to the DLI. We’d play darts, chug beers, hit on Air Force girls, get rejected by those extremely picky Air Force girls and listen to Travis’ alcohol-fueled stories about fighting the “War on Drugs” in South and Central America. We Fordham boys, after years of fine Jesuit education, were of course skeptical of Travis’ yarns, but always entertained.

Like all good things, our “strenuous” training on the Monterey Peninsula came to an end and we parted ways. I’d hear about Travis’ whereabouts and general life updates (his wedding, births of his children, his acceptance to Officer’s Candidate School) periodically over the years. Other than that, I had lost touch with him.

Then, one afternoon in mid-December 2006, I got an email from the same Fordham Army buddy who wrote me about Travis Friedrich’s death with the subject heading: “Travis Patriquin.” At first I thought, “Ahh, old Travis, I wonder what he’s up to these days? Man, I’d love to get together for some beers with him again and catch up.” Then I opened the email.

At first I was numb. I didn’t want to believe it. These motherfuckers keep killing some of the finest people I’ve ever known! First it was Matty Burke, a Fordham friend, who was killed in the World Trade Center on 9-11. Then it was Travis Friedrich. And now Patriquin.

Actually, I think I was numb for some time and I spent hours on the web reading anything and everything that mentioned Travis. That’s when I found his PP on how to win in Al Anbar. I read it over and over, fury soon replaced the numbness. I was indignant; I still am. It was the first thing I had read about Iraq that actually made some sense and seemed remotely feasible and the guy who implemented the plan was dead, his wife a widow, his three kids without a father.

Now, if you’re still with me, I assume you’ve checked out the PP. Don’t be fooled by the simplistic stick figures and tongue in cheek manner. That’s pure Travis and every time I look at it, I imagine him enthusiastically and sarcastically, where appropriate, explaining each slide to some slack-jawed superior.

The two Travs were extraordinary men. I’m glad I got a chance to know them. I’m proud to have known them. I just wish I could have one last run with Travis Friedrich and one last beer with Travis at the Mucky Duck.

See below for some links to stories about Travis’ time in Iraq and a very insightful article (no stick figures, just endnotes) he wrote about the insurgency in Tal Afar for Miltray Review. Here are some of my favorite snippets from the blogosphere:

From Michael Fumento:
Patriquin was exactly the sort of officer we need in Iraq. He spoke at least five languages including fluent Arabic, and was a major player in getting Ramadi sheiks to start supporting Coalition operations by sending men into the Iraqi Police and urging civilians to expose al Qaeda terrorists. He fought in one of the fiercest battles of the Afghanistan war, Operation Anaconda, later receiving the Bronze Star. Patriquin also provided a terrific inbriefing, giving an overview of a city that seems slowly to be improving but is still too much like the local graffiti states: “The graveyard of the Americans.” I quoted him at great length in my major article about the trip in the Nov. 27 Weekly Standard.
Weekly Standard article

From ABC News:
Patriquin didn’t look like your average Army Captain. He had a full mustache and was a “beefy” guy. But start talking to him and you knew this guy was something special. His boss called him brilliant. Travis could tell you about the tribal factions, not just in Iraq, but in Afghanistan as well. I’m not talking basic Shiite-Sunni differences, he knew about the tribes. He’d been in many a sheik’s home, shared meals and conversation. He could talk about history, politics, and archaeology. And he could about those subjects in several languages. He was a student of the world, of its cultures, who happened to wear a green uniform with U.S. Army Captain bars.
* * * *
I’m not sure how much Travis liked riding in the humvees. I do know he loved driving around the Ramadi airbase in an old polish “jeep-type” vehicle. He drove us to dinner and to our quarters in that jalopy. The old vehicle had character, just like Travis Patriquin.

From blackfive.net:
Travis was a warrior, a dedicated father, and my friend.
I worked with Travis off and on several times in Iraq and he was
amazing.
Using his superb language and people skills, Trav started an initiative
to encourage the Iraqi people in Anbar to turn against the AQIZ
fighters there.
****
Many people were too stupid to “get” what Trav was trying to do, so he
made a Power Point presentation that even a 4th Grader (or 4th ID
General) could understand. How to win in Anbar
Trav’s plan was starting to work when he took the dirt nap.
I was crushed when I got the phone call, America’s ability to wage war
in Iraq was diminished in a way that nobody can understand on 6 Dec
2006.
The impact that Trav made “behind the scenes” was more critical than a
Battalion of infantry’s efforts.
The impact that he made on the lives of the people he touched was even
greater.
During Vietnam, the highest compliment that a MACV-SOG operator could
get from a peer was for a peer to state that he was “good in the
woods”.
Travis Patriquin was great in the woods…..
I will miss you brother.

From LA Times:“The Sheik and the Warrior”:
He was a native of the Midwest, gregarious yet a good listener, eager for make things happen but willing to be patient. He was genuine in his desire to understand the other man’s point of view. And he came to understand while others didn’t that the social dynamic that may shape the future of troubled Al Anbar Province is tribal.

Army Capt. Travis Patriquin was the military’s liaison to the multiple tribes and their often feuding sheiks. When the U.S. toppled Saddam Hussein, many of the sheiks stayed neutral in the ensuing fight between U.S. forces and the Sunni insurgency.
****
Patriquin had the knack of sitting for hours, sipping tea, eating goat meat, and talking of matters large and small.

One of the area’s leading sheiks, Sattar Bazeaa Fatikhan, came to like the Midwesterner with the spreading mustache and the quick laugh. They talked business and family — sometimes simultaneously. The sheik adopted Patriquin into his Abo Resha tribe and gave him an Arabic name “wissam,” which means warrior.

The sheik sometimes laughed at how Patriquin’s Midwestern tones wrapped around complex Arabic words; he joked that maybe the American’s nickname should be “destroyer” for what he doing to the native language.
****
Last week a project that Patriquin worked to make happen became reality. After a sweep by Iraqi police of one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in this dangerous city, U.S. soldiers swooped in to build a police station, a first for the Ta’meem neighborhood. At the sheik’s insistence, the station was named for Travis Patriquin, who was 32. A successor has taken over for Patriquin as the military’s liaison to the tribes but the new captain has large shoes to fill.

“There’s no replacing someone like Travis,” [Army Captain Sean] Bolling said. The sheik agrees. “We were brothers,” he said.

Here’s the Military Review article authored by Travis.