Honor the Fallen by Serving the Living

Every year in early May, my social media feed gets filled with posts and articles about the raid that killed bin Laden on May 2nd, 2011. Mixed in those posts are a few references to another event where - almost exactly 5 years after the bin Laden raid - brave American warriors and our partner forces carried out another, far lesser-known mission against ISIS in Iraq, adding to the long list of unheralded acts of courage and heroism that our armed forces have and continue to carry out every day. This mission had many heroes that day, but the men on the ground almost unanimously note one particular stand out: Charles Keating IV.

Chuck was a stud in our small SEAL community. You may have seen pictures of him on the internet. One of my favorites is this picture below: Chuck posing on an Afghanistan ridge with a cigar and squad automatic weapon, looking like a whimsical cross between Kevin Bacon and Rambo. It’s the the kind of iconic look that Hollywood tries to mimic, but can never truly capture the raw authenticity of images like this.

Chuck and I were in Iraq at the same time. I was stationed near Baghdad while Chuck and his team were farther north in Iraq. Though we had deployed overseas with different units, I knew of Chuck’s reputation as a great operator. And on May 3rd, 2016, Chuck proved why he had such a reputation when he and his platoon found themselves in one heck of a firefight.

I was deployed with the SEAL command staff unit at the time and had been dispatched from Baghdad down to Kuwait to do some coordinating with the operations center there. I was in the Ops Center when word came down that our guys were up against a formidable enemy. I took the call and passed that word over to my Commander in the Ops Center, which set the wheels in motion to get friendly aircraft rerouted to support our guys.

Aircraft did get to the scene, but unfortunately not before Chuck and several other SEALs were getting pinned down on a roof by enemy fire that was coming from multiple other rooftops that had higher elevation. As he was known to do, Chuck sent his teammates ahead of him to sprint from their position to the door that led back into the stairwell while he provided covering fire. When he finally sprinted across the roof to the door, a bullet caught Chuck from behind, missing his body armor and tearing through his aorta, killing him almost instantaneously.

I never met Chuck. I had communicated with him over email on our secure network, but I had never personally met or spoken with him. But that didn’t matter - he was a brother, a comrade, and a warrior. I was still in Kuwait the next day when Chuck’s coffin arrived at the coroner’s office on our base. Chuck’s body was being escorted by two other SEALs - his teammates who had been with him during the firefight and hadn’t slept since then. I met the two other SEALs at the airfield and escorted them to the coroner’s office on base with Chuck’s body. Here, Chuck’s body would be prepared for the long ride back to California.

I felt helpless. I shared a kinship with Chuck and my brothers-in-arms who were traveling with Chuck’s body, but there was little I could do to help by this time. I felt foolish trying to comfort these guys who just hours earlier had been in a firefight with their close friend. So I did the only thing I could - I took the watch for a few hours over Chuck’s coffin that night, allowing his teammates a short respite to get some much needed rest before they continued on their journey with Chuck’s body back to San Diego the next day.

Our task unit killed a lot of ISIS terrorists on that deployment. I had the great pleasure of playing a small role in helping to orchestrate many of those strikes against our enemy. But that single night of watching over Chuck for just a few hours was the most emotional moment of my entire deployment. We did a lot of good work on that deployment - we decimated much of the enemy’s power base and we helped a lot of good Iraqis get out from under ISIS control, but it was when I was able to watch over the coffin of a comrade that I had never met that I found my greatest personal reward.

I share this story because I suspect many people sometimes feel like I felt that day…wanting to honor or support our troops but not knowing how. Maybe feeling driven to help and wanting to do more, but not knowing exactly what to do or how they can contribute in some meaningful way. If you’re in that position, you’re not alone.

So on this #MemorialDay, take a moment to remember Chuck and the hundreds of thousands of other Americans who paid the ultimate sacrifice. And then tomorrow, find a way to give to the military community to help those left behind - both service members and military families - or those who were fortunate to survive but came back with other scars. There are thousands of veteran-focused or Gold Star-focused charities that desperately need your support - your time, energy, money and advocacy. The C4 Foundation , started by Chuck’s family, is one of many organizations doing the good work of carrying on the legacy of our veterans. I hope you’ll consider donating your time, energy, or money to the C4 Foundation or whatever military charity appeals to you.?