Sgt. Zachariah Davis

MARINE CORPS AIR GROUND COMBAT CENTER Twentynine Palms, Calif.(Jan. 14, 2005) -- "It wasn't anything like they show on TV," said Angie Davis in a slow, steady voice. "America thinks everything is nice and clean and perfect, and now I know it's not."


The "it" she speaks of is meeting her husband Zach's casket at the airport when his body arrived home Jan. 12.


Killed in Iraq's Al Anbar Province Jan. 6, Sgt. Zachariah S. Davis, 25, 3rd Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, was the most recent Combat Center Marine killed in action since the start of Operation Iraqi Freedom.


Angie insisted on meeting him at the airport, and was accompanied by her father-in-law, her brother-in-law, a friend and her Casualty Assistance Call Officer, Staff Sgt. Stanley Bess.


Angie waited with Bess while the casket was removed from the cardboard shipping container.

It was only after the casket was draped with an American flag that she was taken to see her husband.


"It sure wasn’t what I expected, "she said, sitting on a couch in her living room next to her 18-year old brother-in-law Jesse with her 16-year-old sister-in-law Audra sitting at her feet. "I'm glad I went though. I had to have the peace of mind of bringing my husband home."


Like so many other recently widowed women across America, Angie wants the world to understand the sacrifices her husband and so many others are making every day, she said.


"When [the funeral service] is over, I want everyone to sit back and appreciate what they have in life," she said, fresh tears in her eyes. "I want them to realize how precious life is."


At Davis' Jan. 14 funeral, held at the Combat Center Protestant Chapel, his brother, Cpl. Christopher B. Davis gave a eulogy that made people laugh and cry simultaneously.


With his five remaining brothers and sisters, his mom and dad and the rest of his extended family sitting in the pews in front of him, Davis shared stories about his big brother.


“He was my best friend from the moment I was born, said the Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii, military police officer. “We did everything together from being chased by red racers, running from the boogey man to shooting our father’s gun for the first time. Well, Zach is the one that actually fired the gun-I was too little at the time, but I was there. That is the way most of my life has been for me and Zach-he would take the risks, and I’d be right there to see him do it.”


Davis shared stories of learning how to do his older brother’s homework and nearly drowning his cousin while helping his brother give swimming lessons. He recalled following his brother everywhere he went.


He explained feeling closest to his brother and father, retired Gunnery Sgt. Terry L. Davis, after he joined the Marine Corps.


“We were truly brethren after that,” said Davis. “I wanted to be the same rank as Zach, just so he couldn’t boss me around.”


Fighting back tears, Davis finished his eulogy.


“I look back at my brother’s life, and I realize he will always be alive through our memories,” he said.


A graduate of Twentynine Palms High School and member of the Wonder Valley Fire Department, Davis’ death touched the entire community, and it was obvious at the funeral as there was not an open seat in chapel.

Uniformed firefighters lined the back wall and stood in the foyer. Outside, Marines stood in formation for the duration of the funeral, which lasted more than an hour.


Wonder Valley Fire Fighter chaplain Craig Walker recalled with pride speaking with Davis before he returned to Iraq.


“I shook his hand and told him not to try and be a hero,” said Walker. “I said ‘you’re a firefighter and a Marine-you’re already a hero-thank you for serving your country and your community.’”


At the funeral, citations were read for Davis’ Purple Heart and a Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal he was awarded for performance as vehicle commander, 2nd platoon, Charlie Co. during Operation Al Far in Fallujah, Iraq 7-24 Nov. 2004.

One day Davis’ sons, Gabriel, five months, and his brother Landen, three years, will read those citations, proud of what their daddy accomplished, said Walker.

Perhaps they’ll follow him, their uncle and grandfather into the Marine Corps. Perhaps they’ll become firemen too.

Davis’ fellow Marines, still in Iraq, felt the loss as well.

“I knew Sgt Davis,” wrote Sgt. Major Leland Hatfield, sergeant major, 3rd LAR, in an e-mail from Iraq. “We were not on a first name basis, but I knew him by his actions, words, and deeds. He was a man of honor, courage, strong principle, conviction, loyalty, and dedication. He epitomized everything we think of when we conjure the image of a Marine. He was a patriot and a hero. His loss created a void in this Battalion that will be filled over time, but he will never be forgotten and will always be missed.”

For now, his wife is worried, she said.

She’s worried about what her future holds. Worried about how to tell her sons, five months and three years, that their daddy is dead. She’s worried they’ll grow up angry with him for leaving them.

Most of all, Angie said, she’s worried that after the fanfare of the funeral fades away, the rest of the world will forget who Zach Davis was.

She is worried the loving father, husband, brother, son, dedicated fire fighter and Marine will be forgotten.

Worried that to the world, he’ll simply become another number on the list of Americans killed in the War on Terrorism.