A Father’s Promise
Author: Robert Gilbert
"Brimfield Fire F-82 to RMH on the HEAR frequency, I'm en route 'hot' to your location with a 34-year-old female, full-term second pregnancy, with contractions less than five minutes apart, and my ETA is less than four minutes to your ER!"
That was my radio transmission as I raced Robert’s mom, Catherine, to Robinson Memorial Hospital (RMH), as an EMT-I and firefighter. Upon arrival, the RMH Police parked my vehicle; Catherine was rushed to delivery; and I was scrubbed, gowned, and escorted into delivery to assist in Robert’s arrival. He arrived soon enough, weighing in at 11 pounds 8 ounces — a large baby for his 5-foot-10, 135-pound mother.
My Robert
Robert was a fun child who favored his mother (unlike his older sister, Ruth Ann, who often favored me). When Ruth Ann was 11 and Robert was 9, Catherine died of cancer. I remember standing at her gravesite wondering how I was going to raise these two children.
In time, I remarried, and Gretchen and I raised two great children. Ruth Ann is an RN with the Department of Veterans Affairs, and Robert joined the military, a goal he’d written in his ledger at 13 years old — by 16 he’d set his sights on becoming a U.S. Marine.
After graduating from Revere High School, Robert took a two-week vacation in Maine with Ruth Ann. Then, he was off to Parris Island where he earned his eagle, globe, and anchors in October 2000 and became a combat engineer. Not quite a year later, just after 9/11, Robert called to tell me we were going to war.
After graduating from Revere High School, Robert took a two-week vacation in Maine with Ruth Ann. Then, he was off to Parris Island where he earned his eagle, globe, and anchors in October 2000 and became a combat engineer. Not quite a year later, just after 9/11, Robert called to tell me we were going to war.
He deployed first to Iraq and returned determined to be a warrior in amphibious force recon. By age 20, he was a sergeant and graduated from Navy Seal training in Norfolk, Virginia — all before deployment number two. Inducted into Marine Forces Special Operations Command (MARSOC) in 2008, Robert deployed three more times — the final time to Afghanistan in October 2009 as a staff sergeant, but he was promoted meritoriously in country to gunnery sergeant in early 2010.
Promise Me, Dad
Before leaving on that final deployment, Robert came home so we could ride motorcycles, smoke a cigar, and drink a beer. He had something on his mind. Several of his brothers in battle — Jonny, Tommy, and others — died while deployed. An IED left another brother, Edin, 100 percent disabled. Robert knew the dangers, and so did I.
A few deployments back, Robert gave me a sealed envelope to open if he was ever wounded. That still-sealed letter was on my dresser under a cologne bottle as this current talk began, dusting off the risks and his wishes if something ever happened to him.
After a good motorcycle ride, we each opened a cold beer and lit a Swisher Sweets. My 27-year-old Marine looked me in the eye and said, “If I’m incapacitated, don’t keep me on life support. If we can’t smoke cigars, drink a beer, and ride motorcycles, let me go.”
Robert deployed to Afghanistan as planned, and we communicated via email often, but on March 8, 2010, while assisting and directing the Afghan National Army, Robert was shot. The Navy corpsman stabilized him as he was medevacked to a surgery center, then to Landstuhl, Germany. The 25th Weapons Company from Akron, Ohio, arrived at my door at 1000 hours sharp to arrange transportation to Landstuhl for Ruth Ann and myself. We stayed in the Fisher House there — an important part of this story.
As a medic, I was able to accompany Robert on the Mississippi Air National Guard’s C-17 from Landstuhl to Bethesda Naval Hospital, and I attended to my Robert alongside his doctor, nurse, and respiratory therapist throughout the trip.
In Bethesda, Robert never regained consciousness, but we noticed by watching his heart monitor that his heart rate increased whenever there was activity around him. Then, when his girlfriend placed headphones over his ears with soft-playing country music, Robert’s heart rate decreased. On March 13, it was determined that Robert would not recover from his injuries. I requested — just as I promised my son in September — that his life support be removed. But, Robert continued to breathe on his own.
Birthday
By March 16 — Robert’s 28th birthday — the last team brother arrived to be with their gunny. At 0001 hours, with 16 family members, friends, and Marines present, we sang an emotional rendition of Happy Birthday. His breathing progressively weakened, and the attending nurse let us know it would be soon.
I was there on March 16, 1982, to help deliver Robert, and with my hand on his chest on March 16, 2010, I was there when his heart stopped beating. It was a precious gift, and I miss him every day.
When I finally opened that letter on my dresser, I read Robert’s request that I “live for both of us” — another promise I intended to keep.
A Life of Promises Kept
Four months after his death, I led the local AmVets Post 176 Memorial Poker Run in Robert’s honor — it continues today. Between 200 and 300 bikers ride roughly 110 miles to celebrate Robert’s life and what he sacrificed. We eat well and raise money for an amazing cause.
We never forgot the generosity of the Fisher House when Ruth Ann and I flew to Germany to be with Robert, so in the last seven years, the Gunny Run has contributed just over $70,000 to the Fisher House Hero Miles in GySgt Robert’s name.
And, every March, Ruth Ann and I put on a birthday dinner that includes family, friends, Marines, and Connecticut police officers who originally came to Robert’s funeral to honor him. We have a full weekend of sharing meals and stories about Robert, and that Saturday, we have a graveside celebration for Robert. He is missed deeply, but we’ve accomplished so much because of his 28 years. I believe I will see my Robert again — just not today. I’m busy telling his story and living for both of us.
Honor and Heal
TAPS Togethers are events hosted in communities nationwide by survivors like you. They can be opportunities to strengthen the local survivor community, and they also give the host a chance to share a place or activity that was special to their fallen loved one. Contact our TAPS Togethers team at tapstogethers@taps.org for more information or to inquire about hosting an event.
Robert L. Gilbert Sr. is the surviving father of GySgt Robert L. Gilbert II, U.S. Marine Corps
Photos: Robert L. Gilbert Sr.