Vilseck tank confirmed as ‘Cobra King’
By Jennifer H. Svan, Stars and Stripes
A World War II-era M4 Sherman tank on display at Rose Barracks in Vilseck, Germany has been confirmed to be the “Cobra King,” the first tank to reach besieged American troops defending Bastogne from the Germans’ counterattack during the Battle of the Bulge.
U.S. Army Europe officials announced the discovery Friday in a news release timed to coincide with the Dec. 26, 1944, anniversary of the Company C, 37th Tank Battalion’s famous arrival in Bastogne.
John P. Pryor, 42, surgeon and soldier
By Michael Matza
Inquirer Staff Writer
John P. Pryor, 42, of Moorestown, the dedicated leader of the University of Pennsylvania's trauma team and a decorated major in the Army Reserve who wrote eloquently about the painful parallels between battlefield deaths and urban homicides, was killed on Christmas by enemy fire in Iraq while serving as a combat surgeon.
Dr. Pryor deployed Dec. 6 and was with a risky frontline surgical unit when he was killed by shrapnel from a mortar round. It was his second tour of duty in Iraq.
Dr. Pryor, who was experienced and cool under pressure, was born in Mount Vernon, N.Y., and raised near Albany. He completed surgical training at the State University of New York in Buffalo, and came to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania in 1999. After a fellowship in trauma surgery and critical care, he joined Penn's surgical faculty and served as director of the hospital's nationally recognized trauma program.
"JP was a magical man, with boundless energy and goodness," said Dr. Pryor's mentor at Penn, Dr. C. William Schwab. "He was a devoted son, husband, father, colleague and friend. . . . At his core were many great values, but his passion for service to others" stood out.
In an undated document that Dr. Pryor wrote and left with family before he deployed, he recounted his early affinity for injured people, his passion to serve - specifically in wartime - and the difficulty of balancing his love of country and family, because he felt his decision to go to Iraq was not always supported by those closest to him.
"Since an early age, Dr. Pryor was involved in the care of the sick and injured," he wrote of himself in the third person. "He was certified in CPR when he was 14 years old, joined the Clifton Park-Halfmoon Ambulance Corps at 17, and became a N.Y. State Emergency Medical Technician at 18," adding that it was "emotionally very challenging" to balance his dedication to family and country. "He hopes and prays," he wrote, "for forgiveness from his family and colleagues."
Friends said a favorite quote from Albert Schweitzer that hung on Dr. Pryor's Penn office wall captured his spirit.
"Seek always to do some good, somewhere," it reads. "Even if it's a little thing, do something for those who need help, something for which you get no pay but the privilege of doing it. For remember, you don't live in a world all your own. Your brothers are here, too."
A technically skilled surgeon with a fierce adventurous streak, Dr. Pryor dashed to the heart of Ground Zero on Sept. 11, 2001, to volunteer his services. He wound up deciphering and filling medical requests that crackled over rescue-team radios.
"I don't think about it every day, but I've had flashbacks," he said in 2002.
...
A hard worker who drove himself relentlessly, Dr. Pryor took it personally when he was unable to save someone on his operating table.
In a 2006 Inquirer opinion piece describing his service with the 344th Combat Support Hospital in Abu Ghraib, Dr. Pryor wrote of the "palpable grief" that comes over the staff when a U.S. soldier doesn't survive.
"Everyone is affected and everyone deals with it in a different way. For me," he wrote, "it is very, very personal. I was the surgeon who couldn't save him... The staff people come and give me a hug. They ask me if I am OK; they pray for me. I appreciate it, and I hate it at the same time."
Dr. Pryor is survived by his wife, Carmela V. Calvo, a pediatrician at St. Christopher's Hospital for Children; a daughter, Danielle; sons Francis and John Jr.; a brother; and his parents, Richard C. and Victoria.
Arrangements were incomplete, although the family expects that a Funeral Mass will be said at Our Lady of Good Counsel Roman Catholic Church in Moorestown.
"In Iraq, soldiers die for freedom, for honor, for their country and for their buddies. Here in Philadelphia, they die without honor, without purpose, for no country, for no one."
After a few minutes, I collected myself and began to direct the care for his final journey home. We closed what we could of the wounds and wrapped the ones we couldn't get together. We washed all of the dirt and oil off his skin, combed his hair and washed his face. He was transferred to a litter and brought to a private, enclosed room where we placed him inside a heavy black body bag. The body was draped with the American flag, and a guard was posted. The chaplain gathered some of the providers, and we said prayers over the body. ...
We arrange for his buddies to come in and say goodbye, something I cannot even bear to watch. After a time of reflection, the unit gathers the equipment and prepares to go out again that night. Courage: to lose a friend in battle and go right back into the fight. I love every single one of them.
Combat Outpost Kushmand, a dusty base home to about 100 U.S. soldiers, probably doesn’t fit the bill. Near the southern tip of the U.S. presence in eastern Afghanistan and a punishing, days-long drive from the next closest base, it is not overwhelming in its amenities. Until a week ago, there was no water for showers or laundry.
Snow covered ridges are just visible in the far distance, but Kushmand is a capital of dust, a plywood town on a barren plain. It’s chow hall is known as the "Dusty Spoon," although some wit removed the "S" and the "n" from the sign.
Call it what you will, it’s a well-regarded place to eat, and the post’s six Army cooks worked for several days ahead of Christmas to uphold their reputation. Longer, actually.
"We’ve been ordering food for this for three months," said the head cook, Sgt. First Class Wilford Coleman, Jr, 36, of Chipley, Fla.
"We don’t just cook stuff that comes in a bag," he said. "We cook real food. A lot of visitors tell us this place is better than those contractor chow halls."
Roast beef, steak and ham notwithstanding, as Christmas came and went the dusty outpost was still a long way from home. Nine-and-a-half time zones, by one measure. Seven-thousand and some miles, by another.
The post has no chapel. And, while a chaplain visited the base and performed a short service on Tuesday, there was no church on Christmas.
Sgt. James Kendall, who re-enlisted in a Santa hat, was on his third [Christmas away from home]. But unlike some, he gave the holiday spirit a go.
"I just got done watching ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ " the 31-year-old said, sitting on the back steps of his plywood barracks as other soldiers tossed a football.
Later, after [Maj. Gen. Jeffrey Schloesser] and his entourage had flown off, an ad hoc band — a few infantrymen on guitar and a mechanic on drums — took to a corner of the "Dusty poo."
The mechanic, Spc. David Brasket, 25, of Vancouver, Wash., built the drums with scrap metal, some old oil drums and a garbage can during his lunch breaks. It took about two weeks. He tries to rock out twice a day, usually by himself.
For the Troops ---- A holiday miracle unfolds
By Denise Nix, Staff Writer
Many are strangers. Some are friends. They are Boy Scouts, veterans and a famous actor.
All of them were touched by news about the theft of clothes and handmade blankets gathered by a Torrance woman for wounded soldiers stationed overseas.
In the three weeks since, they've helped Linda Ferrara replace what was stolen - and then some.
Ferrara, whose son, Army Capt. Matthew Ferrara, was killed in Afghanistan last year, said this week she is so thankful to all who responded.
"I'm gratified that so many people are thinking about the soldiers," Ferrara said Friday. "I'm so thankful."
...
Some have given all they could - as little as $5 - while others said they redirected their Christmas money to the cause.
Actor and director Rick Schroder said he plans to replace everything that was stolen after reading about the theft.
"I just couldn't let these thieves feel like they've won," Schroder said in a telephone interview. "It's really what got me - was the people who stole the stuff knew it was bound for service people overseas."
Schroder said he went to Landstuhl a couple of years ago, and will always remember the faces of the soldiers - young, scared and alone.
"I hope Americans really, really take a second and think about them and what they sacrifice," added the 38-year-old actor who has appeared in "NYPD Blue," "24" and "Strong Medicine."
The Ledford family, friends of the Ferraras, sent an $800 check and card that read: "Read about your recent troubles and hope this will replace what was taken - we all decided to contribute our Christmas money."
Kimberly Irwin sent $100 she earned at a garage sale she held to raise money for Christmas. She said it was in honor of Matthew Ferrara and the troops, and called Ferrara and her husband, Mario, her "new heroes."
Sgt. Ryan Edwards, stationed in Iraq, sent $10 and a note: "You need to know that you're wonderful people."
Michele Lewis, a co-leader of Girl Scout Troop 452 in Garden Grove, saw Ferrara and her handmade fleece blankets on the news, and knew the third- and fourth-grade girls in her troop would want to help.
The troop members were already making similar blankets for themselves, but they each put together an additional one to send to Landstuhl.
"The girls are really proud of what they did," Lewis said. "It means something to them to help those soldiers."
A Torrance Boy Scout troop that Matthew Ferrara and his three brothers once belonged to also sent donations, Ferrara said.
Matthew Ferrara attended the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, as did two of his brothers. Another brother is also in the Army.
Matthew Ferrara, 24, was killed Nov. 10, 2007, when insurgents attacked his NATO-led patrol in Afghanistan. He was killed instantly, never going to Landstuhl, but many in his troop did.
On Thursday, Ferrara joined fellow members of the Orange County West Point Parents Club and others in a conference room at Torrance Memorial Medical Center for a marathon blanket-making session.
Fifteen of them made 18 blankets in about three hours.
All the items are delivered to the hospital through Soldiers' Angels Germany. The goods are needed all year, not just at the holidays, and Ferrara said she will continue collecting.
In January, the organization is flying Ferrara to Germany so she can help distribute some of the items.
