Major Zembiec's Funeral

Except this time it was not under fire, or in Fallujah, or side by side with his commander Maj Doug Zembiec. Instead, today, SgtMaj Skiles ensured that body of his commander was solemnly borne into and out of the US Naval Academy Chapel. What probably very few know, is that SgtMaj Skiles, Maj Zembiec’s 1st Sgt in Fallujah, was single-handedly responsible for moving day-after-day under intense enemy fire and mortar attacks to evacuate the wounded and dead Marines of Echo Company who pushed deep into the heart of enemy held territory - enemy held territory smack in the middle of that sorrowful, small city on the Euphrates. This time he has come to the aide his “captain” and borne him from the battle.

I was at the funeral today - as I came to know Maj Zembiec and SgtMaj Skiles in Fallujah. I was recording their operations for the Marine Corps History Division. The accounts we gathered were emotional, heart-felt stories of physical strength and determination, of pride and humility, but also of grief and sorrow for those who did not return from the battle. Chief among these were the accounts of SgtMaj Skiles, who spent hours with me in a small room, recounting the actions of his Marines, his Corpsmen, his commander. Maj Zembiec did the same, spending hours recollecting the actions of his Marines, and never quite seeming to remember any details about himself, unless, of-course, it was showing me where he still had shrapnel in legs, and his flak jacket, which still had a huge chunk embedded, you guessed it, right in front of his crotch.… He was proud of this and laughed as he recalled it.

Today, on the grounds of the Naval Academy, I entered the Chapel. Soaring ceilings, the sun beaming down through the haze of incense and coming to rest on the pink granite walls, images of valor carved into every surface, enormous stained glass windows, flags, and anchors at every turn, it all rests on the bones of John Paul Jones… It was filled to capacity by Marines and Sailors, all friends to Doug Zembiec. Quiet - very, very quiet. Black mourning bands on uniforms, ushers, and the meeting of old friends, when, if met under different circumstances, would have been full of handshakes and friendly insults. Today, stiff upper lips where the order of the day, and a profound sorrow, often masked with reserved smiles and red eyes could be felt like a pall hanging over the funeral. All felt as though they were family, all were family indeed.

I was awed - for I’ve never encountered a more august group of warriors. …This was no endless legion of retired, old soldiers of another war with faded medals and rosettes hung on suits which have seen better days, but a battalion or two of strong, proud, physical men. Warriors, as evidenced by their row-upon row of medals and aquilletes, who have faced the enemy not in the halls of the CP, but on the uneven, unyielding fields of valor which have beckoned us forward. They’ve stepped into that dangerous clearing in the woods, fought it out and survived.

And so it is that this gathering represented what Doug Zembiec was a large part of, but most importantly, ensured grew and flowered. He brought together, through a dynamic spirit, brute physical strength, and his unyielding friendship, groups of warriors who pursued their mission with zeal and a deep belief in their cause. He, and the other warriors here today, helped foster this, our new generation of happy warriors, who will carry the colors forward. He was both a ruthless gardener and joyful planter on the blood soaked fields of valor which he tilled.

This was the family that gathered to honor this man, this was the family that grieved, but most importantly, this was the family that found strength through what Maj Zembiec brought to the world, and to our Corps.

And so, as SgtMaj Skiles performed his final mission in support of his commander, you could hear the tinkling of his medals it was so, so quiet. SgtMaj Skiles' sword was drawn as he led the procession out of the chapel, accompanied by a mournful Gregorian chant, sung by a lone baritone, in navy whites, somewhere in the distance.

Maj Joe Winslow, USMC