HURLBURT FIELD, Fla. - Three air commandos, including Capt. Jeremy Fresques of Clarkdale, Ariz., were posthumously awarded Bronze Stars during a memorial service Friday for missions in Iraq, Afghanistan and other trouble spots.
Those missions included their last, on Monday - Memorial Day 2005 - in Iraq. A small Iraqi air-force plane they were using to find and survey remote landing sites crashed about 80 miles northeast of Baghdad.
An Air Force and Iraqi pilot also died in the crash of the Florida-built Comp Air 7SL, a single-engine, utility and surveillance plane. The cause remains under investigation.
"These heroes died defending a cause each of us in uniform staunchly believes in," Col. O.G. Mannon, commander of the 16th Special Operations Wing. "Their service, their gift to our nation and to the world was an unfaltering commitment to freedom."
Three automatic rifles were displayed upright with soldier's helmets atop of them to commemorate two special-tactics officers, Fresques and Capt. Derek Argel, 28, of Lompoc, Calif., and Staff Sgt. Casey Crate, 26, of Spanaway, Wash.
All three were Combat Controllers specialized in calling in airstrikes, conducting search and rescue missions and assessing remote landing areas.
"All Gave Some, But Some Gave All For The Red, White, And Blue… Some Had To Fall So When You Think Of Me, Think Of All Your Liberties And Recall….. Some Gave All"
CAPT JEREMY FRESQUES; 1978-2005
Capt Jeremy Fresques, a Special Tactics Officer assigned to the 23d Special Tactics Squadron, Hurlburt Field, Florida, perished on 30 May 2005 in the crash of an Iraqi Air Force SL7 reconnaissance/transport airplane. Captain Fresques was participating in an operational mission in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom when the aircraft crashed in the Divala Province of Iraq about 80 miles northeast of Baghdad.
Born in Farmington, New Mexico, Captain Fresques was accepted into the United States Air Force Academy after graduating from high school. While at the Academy, he earned a degree in Environmental Engineering and entered the active Air Force in 2001. His first assignment was as Flight Commander, 56th Communications Squadron, Luke Air Force Base, Arizona. In 2002, Captain Fresques successfully completed Special Tactics Officer selection and training, earning his red beret.
After graduating from Class 06 of the Advanced Skills Training course at Hurlburt Field, Captain Fresques was assigned to the 23d Special Tactics Squadron and was serving his first tour of duty in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Captain Fresques’ awards include the Bronze Star Medal With Valor Device, Air Force Achievement Medal, the National Defense Service Medal and the Global War on Terrorism Medal. He is survived by his wife, Lindsey.
The reply is classic, and a testament to the professionalism and heroism of the folks in the armed services. The response:
Quote: Regarding "A wake-up call from Luke's jets" (Letters, Thursday): On June 15, at precisely 9:12 a.m., a perfectly timed four-ship of F-16s from the 63rd Fighter Squadron at Luke Air Force Base flew over the grave of Capt Jeremy Fresques.
Capt. Fresques was an Air Force officer who was previously stationed at Luke Air Force Base and was killed in Iraq on May 30, Memorial Day. At 9 a.m. on June 15, his family and friends gathered at Sunland Memorial Park in Sun City to mourn the loss of a husband, son and friend.
Based on the letter writer's recount of the flyby, and because of the jet noise, I'm sure you didn't hear the 21-gun salute, the playing of taps, or my words to the widow and parents of Capt. Fresques as I gave them their son's flag on behalf of the president of the United States and all those veterans and servicemen and women who understand the sacrifices they have endured. A four-ship flyby is a display of respect the Air Force pays to those who give their lives in defense of freedom. We are professional aviators and take our jobs seriously, and on June 15 what the letter writer witnessed was four officers lining up to pay their ultimate respects.
The letter writer asks, "Whom do we thank for the morning air show?" The 56th Fighter Wing will call for you, and forward your thanks to the widow and parents of Capt. Fresques, and thank them for you, for it was in their honor that my pilots flew the most honorable formation of their lives.
Lt. Col. Scott Pleus CO 63rd Fighter Squadron Luke Air Force Base
Jeremy Fresques never gave up. Not ever, not at any time in his life.
When one of his fellow cadets at the Air Force Academy could not finish his pushups, Fresques wiggled under the cadet and supported the exhausted man on his back. Then Fresques helped the other cadet finish his pushups. Fresques was tough, but he was also kind and deeply spiritual. And he loved Oreo cookies.
"He had the biggest heart and the most drive of anyone I ever knew," said Nick Fresques, Jeremy's father.
The Air Force first lieutenant, who grew up in Farmington, was disqualified from becoming a pilot because of his eyesight.
He worked as a public-affairs officer in the Air Force until the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks galvanized him to take a more active role in the U.S. war against terrorism.
He went through two years of training to become a special operations Air Force commando. Out of his class of about 36, only three graduated.
"He had the determination to excel at anything," said his mother, Sherry Fresques.
During training to become a commando, Jeremy Fresques met the woman he would fall in love with. It was a Top Gun love story, his mother says.
"Justin," it read, "I have no weakness. I have evolved."
USA Today
May 26, 2006 Pg. 1
Widows bound by true meaning of Memorial Day
By Rick Hampson, USA Today
More than 850 Americans have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan since last Memorial Day. For many of their loved ones, the day's meaning has been transformed. This Memorial Day will feel like their first.
Memorial Day 2005: America is at the park, in the water, around the grill. At a walleye fishing tournament in Dubuque, Iowa, a lawn mower race in Hillsborough, N.J., a techno-music festival in Detroit. Dania Jai-Alai near Miami offers free U.S. flag magnets, while supplies last.
There are countless sack races, eating contests and tugs of war, endless sales on everything from RVs to bikinis. All patriotic T-shirts are $5 at eight Sears stores in greater Phoenix, while supplies last.
This is how most of us spend Memorial Day, an occasion for remembrance that morphed, through years of peace, into beer, ball, boats and barbecue.
But three years of war have revived the holiday's original meaning. Today, for the families of two young Air Force officers, the gateway to summer will become a portal to grief.
In Iraq, Derek Argel and Jeremy Fresques — both Air Force Academy class of 2001, both commandos, both promoted this day to captain — prepare to fly off on a classified mission.
In Fort Walton Beach, Fla., Capt. Argel's wife, Wendy, sits down at the computer as their 10-month-old son, Logan, plays on the floor. She wants Derek to have an e-mail from her when he gets back.
The television shows scenes of parades and cemetery services. In the e-mail's subject field, she types, “Memorial Day.”
In nearby Destin, Fla., Capt. Fresques' wife, Lindsey, also an Air Force captain, joins the annual “Gate to Gate” road race at Eglin Air Force Base. She and other runners drop carnations at the base Veterans Memorial as they jog past.I
In Yuma, Ariz., Fresques' father, Nick, has gotten a call from his wife, Sherry, (pictured left) asking him to come home early from work. After all, it's Memorial Day. In Santa Barbara, Calif., Argel's mother, Debbie, enjoys a poolside martini in her father-in-law's backyard.
All are patriotic Americans who have relatives at war. Still, for them as for almost everyone else, Memorial Day is 90% recreation and 10% recollection. Before the day is over, that will change forever.
More than a dozen communities claim to be the birthplace of Memorial Day, including Waterloo, N.Y., (designated as such by Congress in 1966); Columbus, Miss. (recognized by the Library of Congress in 1958); and Boalsburg, Pa., where in 1864 three women started a tradition of decorating Civil War soldiers' graves with flowers.
On May 30, 1868, Union veterans first officially observed Decoration Day. Over the next century, a succession of wars swelled the importance of what became known as Memorial Day.
Years of peace also took their toll. For many, Memorial Day was old men walking around in funny hats and outfits wearing obscure ribbons and medals — forgotten heroes of forgotten wars.
Derek's grandfather was a career Marine who fought in World War II.
In the sixth grade, Derek wrote that on Memorial Day, “We should put the flag out at our homes, and go to the service at the cemetery. On this day we show respect to the veterans who risked their lives or were killed protecting our freedom and flag. I am happy to see them put a little flag on my grandfather's grave.”
In Iraq on Memorial Day 2005, Fresques, 26, and Argel, 28, have made captain. However, there's no time for a promotion ceremony. Because they're on a mission, they're not even wearing their new silver bars. A promotion “would have been the last thing on their minds,” says Col. Kenneth Rodriquez, their group commander. “These guys were very mission-focused.”
Only a few cadets from each Air Force Academy class are selected to wear the red beret of the Air Force's Special Tactics unit. They're called Combat Controllerlers, a dry term for shock troops trained to land in hostile territory, set up and protect landing fields, and direct aircraft into them.
Argel: water polo star, 6-5, 210, 4% body fat. Wanted to go to the Air Force Academy so badly he attended two prep schools after high school to get in. On a whim, entered academy boxing tournament, having never boxed before, and made the finals, losing a split decision. Set so many records in commando training he had to lug a hunk of driftwood as handicap.
Fresques: hard worker, deep thinker. Considered military academies because he didn't want to get a loan to attend University of Arizona. Joked that he chose Colorado Springs over West Point because female cadets were better looking; said the Air Force treated officers better. Found Jesus in his senior year at the academy. Upon seeing copy of Maxim, the men's magazine, on the desk of a superior officer, he said, “Sir, you aren't going to read that, are you?” Disqualified by eyesight for flight school, he became a communications officer. Applied for elite special ops unit after deciding that he'd “go crazy sitting at a desk.” Meet Nick and Sherry Fresques, click here.
Argel, a rising star in Special Tactics, has decided to make a career of it. Fresques plans to leave the Air Force in 2006 and possibly go into real estate. Both will finish their tour in a month and go home.
“I'm definitely ready,” Fresques e-mails his parents on May 26. Three days later he writes in his journal that he's not afraid of dying, only “the process of dying.” He says his fondest desire is to be “raptured with Lindsey” into heaven to be with Jesus.
On Memorial Day, the two captains board the surveillance plane to scout potential emergency landing sites. Winds are calm, visibility unrestricted.
In the early afternoon, a holiday rooted in wars past is transformed by news from war today:
Four U.S. airmen and an Iraqi Air Force pilot were killed when their light plane crashed and exploded into flames 80 miles northeast of Baghdad. The plane went down about an hour after takeoff from Kirkuk. The cause of the crash was under investigation.
Wendy Argel is on an errand when she gets a call from her mother at home with little Logan. There are soldiers there to see her.
Wendy's father was an Air Force pilot. She knows what that means.
While she was writing that e-mail, her husband was dead.
A few miles away, Lindsey Fresques is bustling around her town house getting ready for a barbecue when there's a knock on the door. Four soldiers are standing there.
One is a major who attended her wedding, and the look on his face says this will be the worst day of her life. The carnation she'd dropped at the memorial had been for her own husband.
The young widows spread the sad news. Wendy reaches her mother-in-law in Santa Barbara. Debbie sinks to her knees. Her husband thinks she's having a stroke.
Lindsey calls Sherry Fresques, who again calls Nick at work. “Jeremy won't be coming back,” she explains.
In Iraq, where an investigation will later rule out hostile fire and mechanical failure, only a few personal items are recovered from the wreckage. They include a silver cross Jeremy had bought in Jerusalem and wore around his neck, and Derek's gold wedding ring.
Some of the human remains are burned too badly for identification. Later, these intermingled ashes will be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. The pilot will become the first Iraqi interred there.
Four days after the crash, a ceremony is held in a hangar at Hurlburt Field in Florida, where the four airmen were based. Each is awarded the Bronze Star. Each soldier is represented by combat boots, a rifle, a helmet and, of course, a red beret.
This year, for the friends and relatives of Jeremy and Derek, Memorial Day will be no picnic.
Nick Fresques: “It always meant something to me, but it wasn't a real important day. I didn't know anyone real close that even served in a war. Now that my son … Now it's completely different. Until something like this happens, unfortunately, it's hard to realize the true meaning of Memorial Day.”
Sherry Fresques: “It's a new experience for me, picking out what to put on your son's grave. I've selected two white roses, symbolizing purity, as well as a spray of red, white and blue stars that kind of reminds me of fireworks — Jeremy loved fireworks. And I'll probably put up this little flagpole. The flag's one of those sparkly ones.”
Wendy Argel: “Memorial Day is a big deal down here, but I know in some other places it's not. But we're living in wartime. I hope people remember that. It's not just numbers. One of those numbers happens to be my husband.”
Lindsey Fresques: “It reminds you that there really are people who make sacrifices. Jeremy and I used to think, ‘You go in and do your time, and then you get out.' So what happened makes the meaning and honor of military service a lot more real.”
Debbie Argel Bastian: “Memorial Day will always be difficult for me now, but it will also have so much more honor attached to it.”
For tough guys, Derek and Jeremy were never very aggressive around women.
Wendy basically picked up Derek, making eyes at him in a bar on St. Patrick's Day. Lindsey and Jeremy met when she was his superior officer and instructor in air traffic training school. Taking a cue from Top Gun, she passed him a note inviting him to dinner.
OSS also honors Captain Jeremy Fresques, who served as Combat Controller in the USAF. He lost his life in Iraq on May 30th 2005. Capt. Fresques is survived by his wife Lindsey, his father Nick, mother Sherry and brother Justin. His family is working with our local race producer in Destin and will be our guest on a pace boat.
It's a long story, but somehow I ended up in the main judge's race boat and I heard him mention something about the KIA Family coming up and I asked if he knew who it was. He didn’t, but said they were in the yellow boat coming up on us, and sure enough…….. there was Nick Fresques along with Lindsey and Justin.
You should have seen the surprise on their faces when I popped up and said, smile.
What were the chances of me running into Nick, Lindsey, and Justin Fresques on the high seas? I wondered why Sherry wasn’t on the boat and saw her immediately as I arrived for the CCT Reunion banquette. She told me they could only take three of them, and then inquired how I knew she wasn’t there.
I said Nick didn’t tell you, I was the race starter? Then I proceeded to bullshit her and she wondered in disbelief as I explained I was the Flag Holder and riding on the Pace Boat, starting the races.
When Nick walked up, she knew she had me, and immediately said; “Nick, you didn’t tell me you saw Mac out there.” She about fell over when he verified I was on the Pace Boat.
I just said; “Damn Sherry, if I knew you needed a ride I could of put you on my boat.” And then I just walked away having to park the car I left outside the Ramada entrance. I know Sherry’s still trying to figure out where my bullshit ends and the story starts, but this was so weird, I don’t even believe it myself................