Caleb Powers and the reality of sacrifice

A t Madison Square Garden, it's easy to play the patriot, the tough guy, the courageous last line of defense, for playacting is all that it is. In Iraq's Anbar province, standing up for what you believe is a stiffer test of what you're made of and what you'll die for.

Lance Cpl. Caleb J. Powers enlisted in the Marines on his 18th birthday and died a Marine on Aug. 17 at the age of 21. He was just going off guard duty in Ramadi when a sniper squeezed off a shot that sliced through his neck and tore a small town in Washington apart.

Powers believed in the nobility of the Marines and their mission in Iraq. He also believed he'd come home one day to Mansfield in Central Washington to grow wheat, raise kids, and tell the story of when he was lost and how he was found.

He didn't have much of a home until he reached Mansfield. Born in Tillamook, Powers moved back to Virginia with his mother after his parents divorced. She couldn't handle him, everyone agrees. "Caleb was acting out. He was losing his father, separated from all of his friends, and he had ADD," said Jay Cooper, a retired film-industry exec and a close friend of Powers in the last three years of his life. "He was uncontrollable at times. He went into group homes."

Powers was rescued from the chaos by Child Help USA, a nonprofit serving abused and neglected children. His mentors there included Adm. William Owens, former vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who regularly took Powers to the Pentagon's Hall of Heroes.

When Powers was 12, the matriarch of his birth family, grandmother Anna Powers, reclaimed him and brought him back to Mansfield. "He was always quiet," said his cousin, Mindi Farris of Tigard, "his quiet, little mischievous self. He didn't talk a lot but his brain was always moving. And he never stopped smiling."

That smile would cause Powers problems -- and plenty of pushups -- when he joined the Marines, but the Corps had few other complaints. The kid was born to be a Marine. He loved its discipline, its structure, its ability to offer more adventure than he ever found playing football or rappelling off barns in Mansfield.

"Every breath he took had to do with being a Marine," Cooper said. "He was excited about the training, excited about the travel, excited about serving his country."

Cooper was fund raising for nonprofits in Hollywood when he met Powers, then stationed at Camp Pendleton. Soon enough, Powers was making the rounds, appearing at the Child Help Christmas party in his dress blues, meeting Ashley Simpson and the cast of "Seventh Heaven." After he was deployed to Iraq, Ashley and her sister, Jessica, sent over teddy bears and photos. "There are autographed Jessica Simpson pictures all over Ramadi," Cooper said.

The rest of the Iraq experience wasn't quite as photogenic. Powers went back to Iraq on a second tour with the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division but, as his aunt, Jo Ann Randall, noted, "He wasn't as eager to return the second time. He made it clear in some of his letters that there were some bad things happening. He never went on, explaining it. He kept a lot to himself to help the heartache of those at home thinking about him."

Among those serving with Powers in Iraq were his sister's fiance, Rick Lord, and his cousin, Thomas J. Tupling. Lord was shot and killed the day after Powers died. T.J. came back to Mansfield last week for the memorial service in the high school gym, but he didn't stay long.

"It was really hard on him," said Amanda Shafer, T.J.'s sister. "They were like brothers. They were supposed to hook up over there the day Caleb died. But T.J. said he had to go back. It was his mission. He's promised one of his friends he'd take care of him. Watch his back."

Lance Cpl. Caleb J. Powers died watching ours. All of 'em. The backs of those who think the war in Iraq is a disaster and those who think it's the winning hand in a re-election campaign. The backs of those who don't deserve him and those who won't forget him.