Tom Sileo (37 page)

A few minutes later, a teammate tapped Sarver on the shoulder.

“Lieutenant, the XO [Executive Officer] wants to speak with you,” he said.

Sarver, who had broken the terrible news of Travis's death to Brendan, slumped into his chair as the XO took a deep breath.

“Lieutenant Brendan Looney was killed in Afghanistan,” he said. “We're very sorry for your loss, and we also apologize that it took so long for us to inform you, as we didn't realize how well you knew Brendan until a few minutes ago. The Looney family wants you in Maryland as soon as possible. What can we do to help?”

His mind racing and heart pounding, Sarver searched for something that made sense as his eyes welled up with tears. Somehow, some way, he had to reach Amy.

“Sir, I really need a secure telephone line and Internet access,” Sarver said. “And I need to know when I'm getting out of here.”

“We'll get you on the next flight,” the XO said, again offering his condolences.

Still in San Diego before embarking on what would certainly be an exhausting, panic-filled cross-country flight, Amy didn't believe Brendan was dead, despite the words of her casualty assistance officer and both of Brendan's parents, who had also been notified. Surrounded by a distraught Steve Looney, his wife, Ali, Navy SEALs and their wives, and numerous friends, Amy focused on reminders of Brendan that filled their home, including the two confused, barking dogs. Brendan wasn't dead; this all had to be some sort of mistake.
He was just here
.

Suddenly Amy's cell phone rang. As the ringtone sounded, Brendan's wife looked at the screen and saw the same five-digit security code that appeared whenever her husband called from overseas.
He's alive!

“It's Brendan!” Amy shouted as the others in the room paused and shot each other wide-eyed looks while gently shaking their heads. “I told you!”

“BRENDAN?!” Amy said after pressing the “talk” button.

“Amy, this is Rob,” Sarver said. “I'm so sorry.”

Hearing Sarver's voice was harder, in many ways, than listening to the casualty assistance officer's official notification of Brendan's death.

“Rob, . . . where is Brendan?” Amy sobbed. “Can you please tell me what the hell is really going on here?”

“I don't know the details yet,” Sarver said, also starting to cry. “But my XO just told me that Brendan didn't make it.

“Amy, I am so, so, so sorry,” he repeated over and over.

Screams, much like the horrible shrieks that had echoed in the Manions' neighborhood on the day Travis was killed, filled Brendan and Amy's San Diego home. The sound was horrifying, even to Navy SEALs accustomed to loud firefights.

Hearing Sarver's words did not fully dash Amy's hopes of getting a phone call from Brendan or even seeing him walk through the front door. Denial was the only wall separating her from the unthinkable.

Devastated after the most difficult phone conversation of his life, Sarver boarded a massive C-17 cargo plane, empty except for two pilots, bound for Germany and then the United States. For the next twenty-one hours, all he could think of was Amy's misery.

The second person Amy asked for was Janet. Her arrival in Maryland not only comforted Maureen and Kevin, who had asked her and Tom to come, but gave Amy a source of strength who could fully relate to her pain.

“Oh Amy,” said Janet, in tears but holding herself together. “I am so sorry, honey.”

“Janet,” Amy said. “I still don't understand what's going on. Where is he?”

After a short pause and a few more tears, Janet took Amy's hand.

“Brendan is with Travis,” the still-grieving mother said. “And now we're here with you, and we'll be here as long as you and Maureen need us.”

The pain was unbearable. In her in-laws' family room, Amy collapsed into the arms of Travis's mother.

Janet and Tom were mindful of the periodic need for Amy and Brendan's family to grieve alone. Though they were at the Looney house by day, the Manions would retreat to their house in Annapolis at night.

Even three and a half years after Travis's death, staying there still made Janet uncomfortable. Now, after Brendan's passing, feelings of uneasiness were even more prevalent than during those difficult hours between the ceremony and reception for Amy and Brendan's wedding.

The house was like a haunted museum. Day and night, Janet could picture Travis and Brendan everywhere, especially on the back porch, where they would tell jokes and drink beer after long, competitive runs and bike rides. The boys were so much alike and such close friends.
They were just here
.

Upon returning to Silver Spring, Janet would hug Brendan's sisters and mother before sitting down next to Amy, Maureen, and Christina on the couch. Janet's right hand would then gently grasp Amy's. Janet's left hand would tightly clutch the gold Navy SEAL trident that Brendan had given her at his wedding reception.

Amy asked Janet how to function without Brendan, and whether it was even worth trying. Though sympathetic, Janet also struck a motherly tone when she reminded Amy that everyone in the house, including Maureen and Christina, would make sure she was never alone.

In one of the most dreadful, grief-stricken situations imaginable, something remarkable was also happening in the Looney family's Silver Spring home. Despite indescribable misery, one Gold Star family was comforting another.

After a long, punishing journey from the Middle East, Lieutenant Rob Sarver was welcomed with open arms by Brendan's family and friends. Sarver's girlfriend, who had flown in from California to help Amy, was also waiting to hug the tired, grieving Navy SEAL. Heather knew how much her boyfriend was hurting, and like Sarver, she was completely devastated for Amy. Just a few weeks earlier during their fun trip to Las Vegas, Heather had marveled at Amy's unselfish nature, as well as the hope she expressed for her future with Brendan. Suddenly across the country on this terrible, surreal day, Heather was watching Amy prepare to bury him.

After Sarver found Amy near the backyard pool and embraced her, the dazed young widow asked him to help the family handle funeral arrangements. Though exhausted after twenty-one hours of travel, the SEAL accepted without hesitation. If the situation
were reversed, Sarver knew Brendan would have done the same for his family.

As they walked inside the house, Amy began telling Sarver where she wanted her husband laid to rest.

“I want Brendan buried next to Travis at Arlington,” Amy said.

Before she left San Diego, Amy had conveyed the same wish during a phone call with Maureen, who then relayed it to Janet. After hearing Amy's comment to Sarver and shooting each other looks, Brendan's and Travis's parents walked across the room.

“Amy, honey, Travis isn't buried at Arlington,” Maureen reminded her daughter-in-law.

“He's buried where we live, remember, sweetheart?” Janet said.

Of course Amy remembered. She had been at Travis's funeral and called Brendan in tears while driving to the Pennsylvania cemetery. But as bewilderment and panic dominated her normally structured state of mind, Amy was uncharacteristically defiant.

“I don't care . . . then bury him in Pennsylvania,” Amy said. “Brendan would want to be with Travis.”

Others attempted to convince the grieving widow that it would be far more sensible to bury Brendan closer to home. In response, Amy simply shook her head and said “no.”

That's when Tom tapped Janet on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Janet then told Amy she would be right back and urged her to spend the next few minutes having something to eat.

“I'm not hungry,” said Amy, holding a glass of wine.

“Amy, you have to eat some food and drink some water,” Janet said, echoing the frequent pleas of Maureen and Christina.

As Amy nodded and sat down on the couch, Tom and Janet retreated to a nearby room so they could speak in private.

Unbeknownst to Amy or the Looney family, the Manions had long considered moving Travis from Calvary Cemetery in West Conshohocken, Pennsylvania—where his grave was still marked with a simple wooden cross—to Arlington National Cemetery.

“I'm okay with moving him, and I know Ryan is, too,” Tom said before asking his wife what she wanted to do.

In the foggy days following Travis's death, Ryan had told her parents about Travis's desire to be laid to rest at Arlington. Weeks after her brother was buried close to home, where his mom could visit him at least once a week, Major Steve Cantrell, Travis's friend and mentor, had told Tom that he'd had a similar conversation with Travis. From that moment forward, Tom believed his son should eventually be reinterred at Arlington, but only if Janet was comfortable with the decision.

After struggling for some time over Travis's final place of rest, Janet had to decide whether her only son's grave would be dug up and moved about 150 miles south. Before answering, she closed her eyes and said her oft-repeated prayer.

“Lord, help me to remember that nothing is going to happen today that you and I together can't handle,” she whispered.

Whether God answered was impossible to know. But in that heartrending moment, Travis's mom felt clarity and peace.

“Amy is right,” Janet said. “This is the way it should be.”

Janet paused and rubbed her eyes with a tissue.

“We can bring Brendan and Travis back together,” she said.

After an emotional hug, Travis's parents left for Annapolis, where Tom started making calls to military contacts while Kevin and Maureen also contacted various officials. Trying to bury Brendan and Travis next to each other at Arlington was an arduous, painful process filled with red tape and uncertainty, but both families were determined to make it happen.

After learning of the extraordinary circumstances being faced by both grieving families, Arlington National Cemetery informed the Looneys and Manions that Brendan and Travis would be buried side by side.

When the Manions told Amy, she embraced Janet. “I don't know how I can ever thank you,” she said. “I didn't want Brendan to be alone.”

From that moment forward, the afflicted families felt a powerful sense of consolation intermingled with their profound sense of loss. Reunited on America's most revered burial ground, Brendan and Travis would once again be roommates.

First many distressing decisions had to be made about Brendan's funeral, with the most pressing being whether his casket would be open or closed. Sarver, who worked nonstop to ensure that all arrangements were flawless, was asked by Amy and the Looney family to view Brendan's remains and report back on the appearance of his body. They knew Brendan had trusted Sarver with his life, and now they asked him to help them make one of life's most excruciating decisions. They needed to know whether their husband, son, and brother was fit to be seen.

Viewing his friend's remains was a raw, jarring experience for Sarver, who would never get the image out of his mind. But after composing himself, the Navy SEAL turned his attention to the ribbons on his fallen brother's uniform. Brendan, who had carried himself with such honor, courage, and distinction during fifty-nine combat missions in Afghanistan, was being awarded the Bronze Star with Valor, along with many other medals.

“His heroism under fire directly resulted in significantly degrading insurgent operations in northern Zabul Province, as well as 56 enemy killed in action,” read Brendan's Bronze Star with Valor citation, signed by Rear Admiral E. G. Winters, Commander of Naval Special Warfare Command. “Lieutenant Looney's extraordinary guidance, zealous initiative, and total dedication to duty reflected great credit upon him and upheld the highest traditions of United States Naval Service.”

Even if nobody else saw Brendan's uniform, Sarver would make sure every inch of it was perfect.

As a special operations warrior, Sarver was often presented with questions of life and death that sometimes had no clear answer. After summoning all his inner strength, Sarver told the Looneys that he thought they should go see Brendan.

Amy initially declined to be involved in the most agonizing aspects of the funeral planning, until she overheard part of a discussion about covering Brendan's face, which would already be heavily layered in makeup, with a veil.

“Brendan would never want a veil over his face,” Amy said. “Brendan was proud of what he was doing and I know everyone else here was too. So why hide anything? Remember what he always said: No regrets.”

Like the Manions three and a half years earlier, the Looney family courageously invited the American public to see the sacrifices of war up close. Brendan's casket would be open, and on Sunday, October 3, 2010, thousands of mourners were invited to DeMatha Catholic High School in nearby Hyattsville to pay their respects.

Before Brendan's remembrance ceremonies officially began, however, Amy and the Looneys joined the Manions on Friday at Arlington. After an extraordinary collaboration among two grieving families, the US military, local and state leaders, and officials at Arlington National Cemetery, the remains of First Lieutenant Travis Manion were being reinterred in Section 60, where so many fallen heroes of the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts are buried. Three days after Travis was laid to rest, Brendan would join him.