On April 22nd, 2008, just before 8AM, 19-year-old Jordan Haerter saw the truck approaching. He had been in Iraq for a few days, he must have immediately known what was coming. As was later seen on a grainy surveillance video, the truck quickly careened around the protective barricades surrounding the barracks. It continued to gain speed as it approached the checkpoint that LCpl Haerter had been protecting, but he did not hesitate. As Iraqi policemen started to run from the sandbagged gates, it took only about a second for Jordan and Jonathan Yale, the Marine standing next to him, to raise their weapons and fire into the windshield of the approaching truck. Six seconds after the truck came into view, it rolled to a stop. Its driver, previously hell bent on destruction, was dead, slumped over the steering wheel. A moment passed and the truck exploded. An estimated 2000 pounds of explosives packed into the truck destroyed the surrounding area. The casualties included LCpl Haerter and Cpl Yale. However, the Iraqi policemen who ran from the checkpoint, the other 100 Iraqis, and 50 some Marines in the barracks behind the checkpoint survived the explosion. The body count would surely have been much higher if not for the quick action of Jordan Haerter and Jonathan Yale.
Marine General John Kelly investigated the events in Ramadi that day. His investigation uncovered, LCpl Haerter and Cpl Yale, stood in unwavering bravery. “(They) never stepped back, they never even started to step back, they never even shifted their weight.” One Iraqi witness relayed that the policemen had, “…run like any normal man would” and with tears welling in his eyes the witness said, “…in the name of Allah no sane man would have stood there and did what they did. They saved all of us.” LCpl Haerter was just 19 on that fateful day. He had a loving family and devoted girlfriend. He was smart, funny and everyone loved to be around him. A successful and happy life was right in front of him. Of course, any “normal man” in his position would have run to safety but as General Kelly would later say, Jordan Haerter was not any “normal man”, he was a Marine.
I first learned of Jordan’s story in 2009, when I was 5 years old. I met Captain Dan Runzheimer, Jordan’s commanding officer, on Long Island at an event commemorating the dedication of a local bridge in Jordan’s honor. That officer became a mentor to me and we exchanged letters while he was deployed in dangerous situations all over the globe. Since then, I have been privileged enough to get to know Jordan’s mom, dad, his girlfriend Nicole, and Marines from his unit. I never met Jordan, but there is still a feeling that I knew him. Though no memories exist of time spent together, somehow I feel connected to him. I’m sure that feeling stems from all the time I have spent thinking about him. I have contemplated Jordan’s decision over and over, and there are not many days that I do not think of him. His short life, his courage, and his immediate choice to sacrifice himself for others has had an impact on me that I cannot overstate.
Jordan’s decision to give his life in defense of others was not out of character for him. When he enlisted in the Marine Corps, he promised his mom that right after his service he would attend college with the goal of becoming a police officer in his hometown. He was dedicated to the improvement of his community. Jordan was extraordinary, as can be seen by the host of medals posthumously bestowed upon him, but I have come to learn that most people who sign up for a life of service are extraordinary. The veterans I have had the privilege to meet have taught me that there is no greater life than one that is led in service of others. These lessons almost never have anything to do with combat. They have taught me to constantly question whether I have done enough to consider my life worthwhile and if not, to step up and make it worthwhile. Their lessons are not just lip service. Each has put their own life in harm’s way. Some, like Jordan, make the ultimate sacrifice, but many return home with wounds both visible to the naked eye and wounds that cannot be seen. These heroes do not ask for recognition. Their reward is the honor of service and often they bear the pain of their wounds in silence.
This is why we, at high school's around the country, make the small gesture of wearing a flag on our chest on November 11th. We recognize the actions and sacrifices of the few who have served. Jordan gave his life. We should do more.