Wednesday, February 2, 2011

“Walkup”

100 Double-Unders
75 KBS (70/55lb)
50 Barrier Burpees (BB)
40 Toes to Bar
30 Power Cleans 185/135lbs
20 HSPU
10 Muscle Ups
5 Rope Climbs 15′ (that’s 10 of our shorty rope climbs, since we only have 12′)

Walkup’s Story
Written by John Dill
Former CPT, 2nd Battalion
75th Ranger Regiment

I first met Frank Walkup IV in the Infantry Officer Basic Course at Ft. Benning GA. We were assigned to the same squad and were around each other constantly day in and day out. We trained together during the week and drank together in Columbus on the weekends we weren’t in the field. I’ve never met anyone quite like Walkup. He was a country boy, straight outta Tennessee, and he was cool as a polar bear’s toe nails and as smooth as Johnny mother fuckin Cash. He never let anybody or any situation make him sweat. Not the ARMY, the heat, the cold, the rain. Nothing could wipe his million dollar smile off his face, but the man was deep too. Underneath his calm cool demeanor was strength of character and worldly wisdom well beyond his years. He was the oldest of ten kids and he took over the role of protector and parent with his siblings. He talked about them and his father all the time and when he did there was no mistaking the love in his voice. He looked at the world with a clear lens and a sharp wit. He believed that leaving things you cared about or needed to happen up to chance or destiny was bullshit. He believed in going after what you wanted, standing up for what you believed in, anddefending the people you loved with every ounce of your beingand every drop of fight you had until every option was exhausted and he believed every option was never exhausted.

The last time I saw him we were both in Ranger School.We had both been recycled our first time through the DarbyPhase and had spent the last few weeks living in the recycles’ barracks, doing work details together, and talking about our friends and family while we waited for the next class to start. We talked about how once we’d gotten out of the military we’dstart our own small construction company and work and raise our kids together. We talked about how the simple things were all we really needed. Our next time through Darby I hadmanaged to get recycled again, and he had gotten his “go” andwas leaving for Mountain phase the next day. He snuck out of his barracks in the middle of the night and somehow found me in a pitch black barracks full of other recycled Ranger students.I woke up to him sitting on my bunk. There was a smile on his face but concern in his eyes. He told me he didn’t care how I did it but to make sure I got the hell outta there. He said, “I love you brother”, gave me a hug and then he was gone.

That was the last time I ever saw him in person. He went on to Mountain phase the next day and straight through to Florida phase and graduation. By the time I finally graduatedWalkup had already been assigned his first rifle platoon with the 25th Infantry Division in Hawaii; had moved there with his newlywed wife and had deployed to Iraq. He called me from Iraq a few times a month over the next year while I was training up with my Platoon in the 82nd Airborne at Ft. Bragg in NC. From what he said but more from what he didn’t say, I could tell they were in the shit pretty good over there and were suffering some casualties, yet somehow he was able to maintain his same calm cool demeanor. He would have me literally laughing out loud at some point in every conversation. The last weekend before I deployed for Iraq I missed his call and he left me a long ass message. I’ll never forget the sound of his thickTennessee accent on that message. He said a lot but all I really remember as clear as day is him saying, “Listen to me, DON’T COME TO IRAQ, I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DO JUST DON’T COME HERE”. He said it in a way that he knew would make me laugh but at the same time I could hear a subtle truth in his voice as he said it. I still can’t get his voice saying those words out of my head.

Two weeks later I was in Kuwait with my platoon waiting to be moved into theatre, and I got an email from Frank’s wife,“I’m so sorry to have to tell you like this but I don’t know what else to do. Frank was killed today by an IED. Please call me as soon as you get this.” I called her immediately and sat there powerlessly on the phone in a tent in the middle of the night in Kuwait as her tears ripped my soul outta my chest.1LT Frank Walkup IV died on June 16th 2007 in Kirkuk, Iraq from injuries sustained in Rashaad, Iraq from an improvised explosive device. Walkup was a Leader and a Warrior in every sense of the words. Below is an anonymous quote that was posted to his memorial site by one of his men:

“He cared about his platoon more then he cared about himself. He would do anything no matter if it was as small as giving you his last smoke or as big as pulling guard for you just cause you were having a bad day. He was a loving husband. He was always talking about how much he loved his wife and how he couldn’t wait to get back to her. Myself and the rest of the guys would have followed him anywhere and done anything he asked without so much as a blink of an eye. Not out of duty, but out of just a diehard love and respect for the man. My heart and prayer go out to his wife and family; he will never be forgotten and will be sorely missed…….”