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June 07, 2004

He'll always be 28

Sgt. Allan Walker and Sgt. Scott McLaughlin served together as drill instructors at the San Diego Marine Recruit Training Depot. They drank together, served together, shared their lives. Then, Sgt. Walker went to Iraq with the 2/4 Marines. On April 6, he was killed in the Al Anbar province of Iraq. A day later his best friend, Sgt. Scott McLaughlin, wrote these words.

He said he wanted to be a writer, and he drank Tullamore Dew in his barracks room. His favorite pair of shoes has been high-top Chuck Taylor's for as long as I can remember. He loved The Templar's, Pennywise, Bad Religion, and Dropkick Murphy's. Allan was the only person I think I'll have ever met who was able to sleep through the fire alarms in any of the squad bays on the Depot or up at Weapons and Field Training Battalion.

He would quote such random authors on such random subjects, that I often wondered what he actually preferred. He never told any of us when his birthday was, but he always seemed to know it was ours. The posters on his wall always
fell down, were ripped beyond repair, and were borderline pornographic at times, but he kept putting them back up, as if changing them, or throwing them away would somehow lessen his worth.

He never expected to get paid back, and he'd spend his last $7.50 to buy the two of you Irish Car Bombs, or pints of Guinness. He always sent his hats home early, and never missed a series duty. His laundry was always on his couch — always. And who owns a 13-inch TV these days? His driving skills left much to be desired; in fact, I have never felt more in danger than when he was driving. The guy was no Fittipaldi.

I have to pause and say that I don't write. I never have, and I don't really have plans to after this. I'm not sure why I'm saying this. Maybe it's the wine. Though this is an alien thing for me to do, I have to do it, and I have to share some things with you all.

If you say you knew Allan, you're a liar. I can't even say that I knew him. Leonard didn't know him, and neither did Leo, April, Stephanie, Zeke, Andy, or anyone else whose heart he touched. It would be selfish of me to even suggest that I knew Allan. You see, Allan was so much more than any of us could ever imagine.

His heart and his soul were larger than … Well, I can't even think of what they're bigger than. He was always the first one to back you up, or say he'd back you up, or stand by your side when you thought you might need back-up, or lurk somewhere near when it was possible that there might arise the occasion for back-up to be necessary. His love for his "Friends" (those of you who allowed him into your heart, and likewise yourself into his vast love) seemed to be unending. Every time he allowed himself into our lives, he allowed us to truly live.

Allan was always the first one to throw down what he was doing and focus on what was going on with us. He came to my apartment all the time. And now, even though it's only been one day, I've looked at my back gate where he used to wait for me to let him in, and I can't help but start to cry. I drive in my car, and every CD I listen to is a CD we listened to. I barbecued chicken last night and I cried because I barbecued chicken for the two of us all the time. We drank beer on my balcony and played Cranium with my wife and her friend. I hummed a song, and he guessed it right.

I always talked to him about my problems. Allan never was judgmental, and he was such a voice of reason that my problems paled in comparison to the bigger picture only he could see. When I walked into the Locker Room, the first person I saw was Zeke. For those of you who don't know Zeke, he's definitely not the person you'd expect the following to come from. He wrapped his arms around me and held me in an embrace that leveled me. And there we stood – two Marines, two warriors, drill instructors, men, whatever you want to categorize us as, we stood there and didn't say a damned word, and we cried in each other’s arms. Two men crying in each other’s arms. Our wives watched us, and our friends watched us, and strangers watched us, but we didn't care.
I only went to the Depot to use Mapquest that day. I never expected it to turn out the way it did. As I was driving by the base theatre, I saw some friends walking from RTR and only slowed to say “Hi.” In the next seven seconds, my life was rocked, and I'll never be the same again. I don't need to tell any of you who read this what I was told. It's the same thing many of us wish we’d never known.

I actually told Laurie I wish I never knew Allan died. I wish I just thought he forgot me somehow and went on with his life and got married, had babies and touched more lives. I wish I could imagine him making someone happy when his bald head should have been gray. I wish I could have imagined Allan sitting in his garage listening to Pennywise on a vintage cd player at a time when music is beamed into your head through radio waves. Or going to a bookstore and seeing a book with his name on it. Or reading in a newspaper, when my eyes aren’t so good anymore, that Allan Walker, who was born April 9, 1975, died from complications of something or other, in such and such a place and was survived by so many grandkids. I wish I could read about him starting such or such company, or him being the recipient of such and such award.

You know, I really don't care anymore. I miss him damn it. I'm sitting here trying to help myself deal with this by writing this to all of you, and sharing my life with Allan, however short it was.

I always imagined that my friends from childhood would be my groomsmen, but here I was, asking him. I didn't even give it a second thought. Somehow I just knew it would be right. Somehow I just knew that he was right. And on the big day, even though he wore the disco outfit the night before, Allan was an hour late to the suite to get ready. It was classic Allan though. He was late the day that my life with him started, and he was late the day my new life would start. I could only laugh and give him a hard time about it. He felt really bad though, and you could tell. He held himself responsible for everything, big or small.

April just told me his birthday was tomorrow. He would've been 29 tomorrow. Well, by Iraqi time, he would be 29 as I write this. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER. HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

I'm staring at the cursor blinking, and I'm suddenly grasped by the thought that somehow my life will be that of the cursor. Forever blinking, waiting for him. It’s silly. We went to Plum Crazy in Pacific Beach and got really drunk. I put about two hours of songs in the jukebox, and NOFX and Van Halen played forever. Alan and I played pool poorly and gave each other play punches in the arm when we'd make or miss a shot. It really didn't matter. I think it was just the contact of two friends that drove us on.

I can hear my wife in the other room talking to a friend about Allan’s death. She said, "Out of all the Marines, it was him."

The new Spiderman trailer just premiered, and it features a line from Tobey McGuire, "No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it'll always be the ones I love who will pay." Allan and I watched the first Spiderman movie all the time during our last cycle as seniors.

Is this going to get any easier? Mack's Ally was supposed to be the bar we were going to open when we retired. It combined my nickname, Mack, with a play on his first name, Ally. Outside his barracks room we even mapped out the floor plan. Johnny Cash, NOFX, and Pennywise were going to be the first CDs on the jukebox, and no Will Smith was allowed. We had plans, man. We had plans. How do you expect me to go on? You never said goodbye.

The news is talking about tragedy this and conflict that. Laurie's crying on the couch, and I'm holding tears back as I type. I am a selfish bastard. I am more concerned with how Allan's death will affect me than I am with how his loss will affect the rest of the world. He had so much to give and so much to contribute and so much kindness and understanding and wisdom and love and heart and friendship and laughter.

I just saw that one of my recruits died with Allan. Isn't that something. Maybe Allan died trying to save him. Maybe I failed somewhere. But that's just me being selfish again.

I am not a writer, and I didn't know Allan, but I was his friend, and he was mine, and indirectly I am yours and you are mine. The cursor still blinks on my screen, and as hands shake over the keyboard, the news keeps spewing unimportant crap, and Allan is still 28, forever. I'm 29, and one day I'll be 70. Allan is 28. Every April 9th, he'll be 28. I miss you brother. We had plans; we had plans. Happy Birthday Brother. Happy Birthday.

Posted by Deb at June 7, 2004 01:07 PM

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Comments

Sgt. Scott McLaughlin words from the heart have my heart. Never have I read and cried over a more profound tribute. Thank you so very much for giving this to all of us!!!I will pray for the healing of our Sgts and their families!! Con Mucho Carino
Janise

Posted by: Janise at June 7, 2004 05:24 PM

I to am very grateful.. to be at this memorial service.. for one my son is in Iraq as I write this he to is in 2/4 G Co. and he to had that privledge to meet Sgt.Walker. And was very proud to go to Iraq for the second time with this Sgt. I recall the day he had a smile on his face and telling me that a drill Instructor was going with them.

Then the tragic news came when my husband saw in the Lancaster, Ca. in the LA Times and I saw it on the media. About this inncident. "Man my heart just fell and we attendent his services it was so touching and so close to home.
I pray for the family everyday.

I to am in pins and needles everyday of my life right now. Every door bell, every phone call. We just recieved one the other day where my Son was in a fire fight and was hurt. Thank God he is alright. I am not going to be fine until he comes home.

What can I say I just pray for Allen's family and friends that he had as what I saw and read about this great guy. May he be waiting to go to heaven because he is just sleeping until Jesus comes down and says "It is done" Then I will be able to meet him someday. And Thank him for what he did on this earth. For that day is coming real soon. We are living in those last chapters of life. And I pray that we have a great reunion in heaven soon. May the Lord and the angels be with the rest of Our Troops and bring them soon. They have done their job.
In Christ MarineMom.

And for that friend that misses him.. you stay firm in Christ and you will see your friend and you will never separate from him again. In a better place then here on this earth. So that gives you something to look forward to.

Posted by: Blanca at June 18, 2004 07:32 AM

My heart goes out to all of the families who have lost someone in Iraq. Ken, Allan's father,and I have lost apart of us and we shall never completely heal. Like his ancestors, he was fighting for all of us. All I can say is that he was a good Marine. But not lost to his friends and family, we shall always remember him. Good Bless America and God the Marines.

Posted by: Allan's Grandmother at July 28, 2004 07:06 PM

WE ALL GRIEVE FOR EVEYONES LOSS, WE ARE SO SORRY THAT THIS TERRIBLE PLCE HAS TAKEN SO MANY GOOD MEN AND WOMEN FROM US. MY NEPHEW PFC CHRISTOPHER D. MABRY KIA RAMADI ON 4-7-2004, SAID HE KNEW HE WAS NOT GOING TO BE COMING HOME, BUT FOR US NOT TO WORRY. HE SAID THAT HE KNEW WHERE HE WAS GOING, AND WAS READY TO DIE. THIS WAS FROM A 19 YEAR OLD COUNTRY BOY, WHO GREW UP THE HARD WAY FAST. I PRAY THAT ALL OUR TROOPS WERE WITH GOD ALSO. THE PAIN IS TERRIBLE, NOT HAVING THEM WITH US. BUT, GOD IS TAKING THE BEST CARE OF THEM FOR US ALL. MAY GOD BLESS EACH AND EVERYONE OF OUR TROOPS. THANK YOU, MRS FRANKIE MABRY WOODALL

Posted by: MRS. FRANKIE MABRY WOODALL at September 27, 2004 07:46 PM

First time reading this blog, just wanted to say hi.

Posted by: Steph at November 6, 2004 10:56 PM

SGT. McLAUGHLIN , WHAT A FINE TRIBUTE TO ONE OF OUR FALLEN BROTHERS. MY DRILL INSTRUCTOR FOR PLATOON 260 (CLASS OF 66)HAD YOUR LAST NAME .ANY RELATION? SEMPER FI USMC 66-69 E-CO 2BN 4TH MARINES

Posted by: JIM CAIN at January 2, 2005 03:00 PM

SGT. McLAUGHLIN , WHAT A FINE TRIBUTE TO ONE OF OUR FALLEN BROTHERS. MY DRILL INSTRUCTOR FOR PLATOON 260 (CLASS OF 66)HAD YOUR LAST NAME .ANY RELATION? SEMPER FI USMC 66-69 E-CO 2BN 4TH MARINES

Posted by: JIM CAIN at January 2, 2005 03:03 PM

Sgt. Mclauhglin was one of my Drill instructors and I remember Sgt. Walker and Sgt. Mclaughlin joking around alot and I would like to get it touch with Sgt. Mclaughlin. Can anyone help?

Posted by: Cpl. Riecke at January 4, 2005 12:22 PM

its been a year today since allan died. im glad that allans story touched people. Cpl Rieke, email me at scott.mclaughlin@usmc.mil. Good luck over there devil.
ssgt mack

Posted by: scott mclaughlin at April 6, 2005 09:18 PM

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