Three Comrades Remember Brother-in-Arms, Born Tanker

BAGHDAD, IRAQ

10.22.2004

Courtesy Story

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Story by: Cpl. Bill Putnam

CAMP FALCON, Iraq -- This is a story about Staff Sgt. Robert "Robbie" Thornton, a tanker and platoon sergeant in Troop C, 1st Squadron, 7th Cavalry Regiment, who died Aug. 25 while on patrol in Baghdad's Al Rashid district.

Robbie, as his friends and colleagues called him loved, everything about tanking. The smells and sounds of gunnery and field problems back at Fort Hood, mentoring brand new and experienced tankers about pushing an M-1A1 Abrams tank to its limits; and, more than anything, Robbie loved patrolling in his Comanche Troop's area of southern Baghdad. "I'm surprised you could learn so much from one person," said Spc. Jonathan Weink, a tanker in Comanche Troop and one of Robbie's Soldiers. "It was great to be taught by such an awesome guy."

Equally as important to Robbie was his wife, Ellen, and children, Brad and Brianna, back at Fort Hood. The Montgomery, Ala.-native, was a devoted father and husband, and even after long days preparing the unit to deploy from Fort Hood, that sometimes as long 18-hour days, he would come home and read to his son. "That's what he did every night, read his son a bedtime story," Weink said. "A few minutes later, you'd hear him snoring away because his son fell asleep, then he fell asleep. He loved his kids and his wife so much, and he loved being a soldier."

Robbie is one of the many 1st Cavalry Division Soldiers who have been killed by insurgents here since the division arrived in April. His friends, three of whom talked openly and honestly with a reporter in his barracks room on Camp Falcon -- the way only brothers-in-arms can about a fallen comrade -- say Robbie died the way he wanted to -- commanding a tank in battle. "He could not have died in a better way," recalled Staff Sgt. Kemper Jones, a tanker commander in Comanche Troop and Robbie's best friend. "He didn't die in a car accident, he didn't die of a heart attack; he died doing what he loved doing, he died a hero.

His death, indeed like the other deaths of Soldiers here, left a big hole in his unit. Robbie was a tanker, through and through; and even though he was Comanche Troop's headquarters platoon sergeant, in charge of the mundane administrative part of the unit, Robbie would always volunteer to command a tank or even to act as a main gun loader. "Robbie was the kind of guy, whether he liked you or not, he would do anything for you," said Sgt. Mark Thomton, the Comanche Troop communications sergeant and Robbie's roommate. "He could separate personal from professional."

Jones and Robbie went back a long way, and their friendship was pretty strong. "He was always fun to be around," Jones said. "That's why I would say he was my best friend."

They were stationed in Germany together in the 1st Armored Division. After their unit moved to Fort Lewis, Wash., in the 1990s, their wives became friendly after Robbie's wife opened a day care center and Jones" wife took their son there. Then Robbie and Jones become best friends. Robbie and Jones were then assigned to recruiting duty at the same time; Jones was in northern Florida and Robbie in his hometown of Montgomery, Ala. They'd call each other pretty often and exchange tips on how to recruit new soldiers. "I would have never expected to hit it off with him the way I did," Jones said. Then they met up again at 1-7 Cavalry.

"He made the field a lot of fun," Jones said. Almost every field problem, Robbie would make an impromptu tanker's barbecue -- a spare road wheel filled with charcoal -- and they"d grill meat out there; an early riser, he"d make hot coffee every morning, and would hand Jones a cup as he said "Good morning, sweetheart," Jones recalled. Last summer, Robbie attended the Tank Master Gunner Course at Fort Knox, Ky. His family went home and, as it turned out, both Weink and Jones were taking care of Robbie's on-post quarters at the same time without even knowing it. "I didn't know that," Jones related. "It was kind of weird at first but it just goes to show, once he got to know you, he trusted you." Thomton and Robbie hit it off quickly, the way he always seemed to with people, when they met before a National Training Center rotation last October. They looked, in a weird way, like brothers, Thomton said. Both had grey hair, were about the same height and had the same dark-tanned face.

"When I first met him, I was like "alright, a platoon sergeant who's older than me!" Thomton said laughing. "Come to find out, he was six years younger than me." After settling into their barracks at Camp Falcon, the two were roommates, and it couldn't have worked out better, Thomton said. They liked the same books, books and music. "Everything was interchangeable," Thomton said. They usually finished books at about the same time and would switch with each other. "There was one time I handed mine down to him and he hand his up to me and we"d start all over again," Thomton recalled.

When it came to Robbie's favorite sport, NASCAR, the people around him, had to pick a team; Robbie was emphatic about it. "There was no way I could be his roommate and not be into NASCAR," he said laughing. "He did the same thing to me," Jones also said. "He lived to be a tanker and he knew it inside and out," Thomton said. Perfection was his goal and he strove for it day in and day out, they all said. And his ability to explain how a tank works and make someone like Thomton, a non-tanker, understand it was amazing, Thomton said. "I learned more about tanks in the last three or four months than I thought I"d ever know," he said. One time, without a manual, Robbie explained to Thomton how to change a tank's road wheel so well, that afterward, Thomton felt confident enough he could do it.

"That's how much he got into teaching people," Thomton added.

At the same time, Robbie was a perpetual student; he loved hearing anything about Thomton's job or even learning a new sport.

Jones coached a soccer team that both his and Robbie's sons were on back at Fort Hood. Last January, Jones was tasked out to help load the squadron's equipment on ships for movement to Iraq. So he asked Robbie to coach the team. His first response was: "Well, I'm there," Jones recalled.

Robbie didn't know a thing about soccer so Jones taught him the finer points of the game like the on-sides throw and penalty kicks, and had Robbie on the side lines to help coach.

It didn't matter he knew next to nothing about the game, Robbie was so enthusiastic about helping the team, they went undefeated during Robbie's tenure, Jones said. "He was just that good with children," Jones said. "No matter if he knew the game or not, he was just there as someone people could look up to." That view of Robbie, as a peer and mentor, was equally as strong within Comanche Troop.

"That's how his peers and Soldiers look at him, too: as someone to look up to," Weink said. Comanche Troop is Weink's first assignment to the Army. After arriving there a couple of years ago, Robbie took Weink under his wing and showed him how to be tanker. Everything Weink is today, he feels he owes it to Robbie, including his pending promotion to sergeant."He always thought of me as a leader," Weink said.

Before heading off to the Master Gunner course, Weink helped Robbie study for it at home, at work, or on staff duty. Once a week, Weink would call Robbie during the course and Robbie would ask him questions Weink jokingly asked Robbie, "Why you drilling me? You're the one who needs the stuff not me." Robbie's response was "It helps me to remember and to learn."He also brought Weink into his family."

He took me into his home, I met his wife and she made sure if I needed anything, she was there for me, same as he was," Weink said. "If you needed someone to talk to, he was the kind of guy you go approach and talk to him about anything."

"He had two sets of children," Thomton said. "He had his children at home and his children here."

No matter who you were in his platoon, he would always take care of you, Thomton said. But Robbie became all business when it came to tactics and handling a tank, Jones said.

"He went straight to it, right up to the fight," he noted. His love for tanking and soldiering leads Jones, Thomton and Weink to believe Robbie died the way wanted -- on a tank, in battle. It didn't matter if, as the headquarters platoon sergeant, Robbie didn't need to be out there. He absolutely wanted to go out on patrol; he would act as a gunner or as a loader, sometimes for Jones, but more often than not for other tank crews, Jones said.

Late on the evening of Aug. 25, Robbie was commanding a tank during a long patrol of Highway 8, the main highway leading from Baghdad International Airport through the Al Rashid District. An insurgent fired a rocket-propelled grenade at his tank. The round hit the commander's hatch and exploded. Robbie was mortally wounded yet continued to fight until he passed out.

"He loved tanking that much," Jones said. "He was made to be in the Army and be a tanker. It's all he ever did."

That was his goal, said Weink, to be a tanker and "be the best damned tanker there was." "He was always hard charging, no matter if he was in pain, he just had to be out on a tank," Weink said.

Robbie was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star Medal and Purple Heart for his actions that night.

• Date Taken: 10.22.2004
• Date Posted: 10.22.2004 11:56
• Story ID: 525
• Location: BAGHDAD, IQ