Greetings My Friends
The following is yet another story about another fallen hero. Each day as the death toll mounts I continus to ask myself how long will this continue. How could it be that human nature would have us love all mankind and yet , the governments of the worls must turn us all against each other. The other other day I was thinking about what would have happened, when my daughters were just little girls and I introduced them to a little girl from Iraq. I know exactly what would have happened. They would have become good friends and playmates
and over time they would have grown to love each other. Will we always allow the governments of the world force us to kill each other? I would really like to hear your thoughts about why you think there are wars. Who starts them? Who won or lost them?
Surely we all have feelings about war, Here is a chance to share those feelings.
E-mail article Print article Subscribe Get e-mail alerts
HONORING OUR OWN
Marine buddies had faith in this go-to guy
Posted by the Asbury Park Press on 10/30/05
BY LARRY HIGGS
STAFF WRITER
To his fellow Marines, Lance Cpl. Jourdan Grez was the guy they'd want to go on a mission with them. To his commanding officer, he was the go-to guy. To his parents, he was a talented son, brimming with potential.
Grez's life was cut short on May 11 at age 24, when the amphibious assault vehicle he was riding in ran over a roadside bomb while on patrol in Karabilah, Iraq, killing six Marines in total.
Some of the words used to remember him — brother, friend, go-to guy, a selfless man, a loving father — came from his fellow Marines, who signed a scrapbook of photos given to Jourdan's parents, Armand Grez Jr. and Andrea Grez of Brielle, when 1st Platoon, Bravo Company returned to Virginia earlier in October.
"It was a difficult decision to make, whether to go to the "welcome back,' " Andrea Grez said. "We prayed on it, and we were glad we did. It was a wonderful opportunity to meet the men he served with, and to hear stories about him."
In turn, the Grezes found themselves supported and comforted by the Marines of Bravo Company, who nicknamed Jourdan "Rev."
Baptized a Catholic, Jourdan got involved with a nondenominational religious group while a student at James Madison University, where he majored in finance and international business.
"He had fallen deeply in love with Jesus Christ; he was very secure in his faith," Andrea said. "He was often called on to do services in the field for other Marines and was considered a lay chaplain."
Jourdan spent most of his childhood in the Shore area. He went to nursery school at Tower Hill in Red Bank and to grade school at Holy Cross in Rumson, before the family moved to Virginia. His parents returned to New Jersey, so Armand Grez could be general manager of the Oceanic restaurant in Long Branch.
About a week before his death, Jourdan's biggest concern was sending flowers for Mother's Day — and making sure his mom didn't find out how much they cost.
"He told us to be on the lookout for flowers," Armand said. "He told me, "Don't let her look at the finances.' "
Jourdan was a combat engineer, considered one of the more dangerous assignments because their job is to find, defuse or detonate explosives, Armand said.
"When I asked about what combat engineers did, he (Jourdan) told me they build bridges," Andrea said. "When I told my uncle, a former Marine, he just rolled his eyes."
Jourdan wrote about it to his brothers, Armand III, 29, and Eric, 27, who both live in Virginia, but he shielded his parents from the dangerous truth, his father said.
"They spotted land mines and detonated them," Armand said. "He'd tell his brothers about it before us."
Bravo Company's primary mission was to protect a hydroelectric dam in Hit, which is the source of power for one third of Iraq. The company also was sent on missions with other units, because the engineers would spot and defuse bombs and mines, his father said.
When Jourdan was 15, he was in a traffic accident in which his friend was killed, Andrea said. After that, he became an emergency medical technician and joined the local first aid squad in Virginia.
In the Marines, Jourdan volunteered to be a corpsman, a front-line medic for his platoon, when it looked like the regular corpsman wasn't being activated.
In a letter to the Grez family, Jourdan's commanding officer, 2nd Lt. Paul Mainor Jr., recalled him volunteering to be corpsman, saying, "Sir, I'll be the platoon's doc, and I'll take care of everyone."
The words that constantly came to his mind, in describing Jourdan, were his loyalty, unflappable demeanor, trusting smile and maturity, Mainor wrote.
"He saw things in ways many of the other Marines did not. This different look on life made him the go-to person for many other Marines. They knew he was always available to listen, regardless of how ridiculous the subject," Mainor wrote. "He knew other Marines were counting on him, just as he was counting on them."
His Marine buddies remembered Jourdan's sense of humor and laugh, which uplifted his entire platoon.
"Jourdan had an infectious laugh, and he made sure you heard it, even with the most minor of jokes," wrote a Marine in notes he used for Jourdan's battlefield eulogy in Iraq. "Each of us has our own Jourdan stories. I'm sure he's looking down on us and wondering why there is all the fuss."
He loved to paint, and followed the New York Yankees and the Giants, but Jourdan's biggest love was his 2-year-old son, Colin Taylor Lovell, said his mother. Everyone, from his commanding officer to his fellow Marines, agreed that Colin was the center of his life.
"He joined the Marine Reserve because he wanted to make sure his son was provided for," Armand said. "He picked the Marines because they are the best. Everything he wanted to do, he wanted to be the best."
Jourdan spent his last two days stateside with his son and his girlfriend. In his journal, he said he was proud to represent them and that he was going to war to "secure some kind of family time," which he enjoyed, for another family in Iraq.
His journal never talked about the danger he faced, and there are no complaints about the conditions in Iraq. In his last letter home, Jourdan's thoughts were once again about others.
"I have already lost friends to mines, mortars and IED's (improvised explosive devices)," he wrote. "Pray for their families, please."
|