Army Spc. Tagan LaFountain, of Bozeman, Mont., pulls off his muddy boots on Saturday, his 23rd birthday. LaFountain, a member of Company B, 1st Battalion, 163rd Infantry Regiment of the Montana National Guard, spent the day like many others: “I went for a three-mile run first, then washed the Humvee. Get it done before it gets too hot.” (Kevin Dougherty / Stars and Stripes)
HAWIJAH, Iraq — It was almost time to board the plane, time for one last round of tearful good-byes before heading off to prepare for warfare in a distant land.
Army Sgt. 1st Class Bill Unger remembers well that early July day. He was a crusty veteran from Great Falls, Mont., departing with young men, some less than half his age.
One-by-one, several of his hometown contemporaries would approach with an outstretched hand, wish him well and ask for a favor, though they really didn’t have to. Everyone knew that he and others in positions of authority would try their level best.
“Bill,” they would say, looking him dead in the eye, “take care of my son, will you.”
Other senior leaders in the unit, including Sgt. Maj. Bill Cooper, recounted similar experiences, poignant moments not unlike other send-offs in towns and cities across the United States.
But this is the Montana National Guard, a family habit for some, linking one generation to another. There are 2,450 slots statewide, and, unlike some states, Montana has not had much trouble keeping its numbers up, said Sgt. Jim Winkle, one of approximately 700 Montanans serving in Iraq.
“There’s a very large number of veterans in Montana, on a per capita basis,” said Winkle, who is assigned to Company C, 1st Battalion, 163rd Infantry Regiment.
Like many in Task Force Grizzly, Winkle has active-duty experience. He served six years in the Navy and planned to transfer to the Marine Corps when he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease, a form of cancer. He beat the cancer and, after a 12-year hiatus, resumed his military career in July 2001.
Montanans “are just patriotic,” Winkle said. “They might have a good civilian job but they just want to do something else. They want to give something back.”
Every military unit claims it has cohesiveness, and they do, but to varying degrees. Special Forces, for example, are at the highest end of the spectrum. The Marine Corps is rock solid, and some Army, Navy and Air Force units foster and forge bonds that last a lifetime.
Many National Guard units are tight, too, partly because there isn’t the turnover common to most active-duty units. But within the Guard — and the active duty, for that matter — there are subtle and not so subtle differences.
Some units from “big states are almost as impersonal as the active-duty force,” said Cooper, who cut his teeth in the Marines.
Members of Montana’s 163rd Infantry Regiment know they are the guardians of a proud heritage that dates to 1884, and that there’s a bond between them that’s strong and true.
“Two of the guys here were in my wedding party,” said Sgt. 1st Class Dennis Kuchynka. “One of them, Todd Stewart, was my best man.”
Such stories are commonplace around forward operating bases Gaines Mills and McHenry, the battalion’s headquarters.
Before he left home, Sgt. John Arnold parked his pickup truck at Sgt. Greg Marchant’s house. Marchant’s wife looks after it. Sgt. 1st Class Paul Larsen and 1st Lt. Robert McCrum go bow hunting together for bull elk.
“I’ve been on active duty,” said Capt. Luke Bentz, a battalion fire support officer, “but this Montana National Guard unit is unlike any unit I’ve ever served in.”
In terms of sheer size, Montana is the fourth largest state, yet it has a population of just over 900,000, making it the seventh least populated state in the union. There are more people in Kirkuk — up the road from the unit’s headquarters near Hawijah — than there are in Big Sky country.
Like National Guard units in other states, the 1st Battalion, 163rd Infantry Regiment has its share of citizen soldiers from traditional occupations, from lawyers, teachers and cops to farmers, electricians and carpenters. But there are also those in less conventional jobs, such as ranchers and loggers.
One soldier, Master Sgt. Thomas Anderson, earns money crafting leather horse saddles. His handiwork is of such a high quality that actor Robert Redford used his saddles in the movie “The Horse Whisperer.”
And at least a dozen soldiers at McHenry are American Indians, representing several tribes.
Furthermore, the veterans have known some of the younger soldiers since they were kids. Sgt. 1st Class Calvin James remembers giving one his first haircut, while Cooper has seen the young men migrate from the high school sports field to the battlefield.
“We don’t do a lot of yelling and screaming around here,” Cooper said. “We all know each other.”
That, Unger said, has been a blessing, though it also can be gut-wrenching when a colleague is killed or wounded.
As of Thursday, the battalion, operating in one of the toughest areas of Iraq, has had 57 battle casualties, according to 1st Lt. Eric Rosenbaum, a pharmacist who is serving in Iraq as a medical battalion leader. That’s 65 percent of the casualties sustained by the entire 116th Brigade Combat Team, which covers north-central and northeastern Iraq.
Among the casualties were three combat-related deaths. While only one of the three, Sgt. 1st Class Robbie McNary, hailed from Montana, the other two — Staff Sgt. Kevin Davis of Lebanon, Ore., and Spc. Timothy Kaiser of Redding, Calif. — were part of the family, too.
“It’s a troubling thing,” Unger said, referring to casualties. “They’ve been like my kids for years. You worry about them every mission they go on.”