RIP Shinn

As of today, there have been 6,026 U.S. military fatalities in Iraq and Afghanistan (source: Washington Post Faces of the Fallen). These soldiers fought for their country and made the ultimate sacrifice. I have been very fortunate that in seven years in the Army and two deployments to Iraq, I have not attended many funerals or memorial services. I only personally know two people who have died in Iraq… one that died on a follow on deployment with a different unit due to a non-combat vehicle accident in Mosul, the other a medic from my battalion that was killed by an IED in Baghdad during our deployment in 2006.

Recently, I experienced equal sadness though when a former member of my company, who I also deployed to Baghdad with in 2006, was killed in a single vehicle accident outside of Ft. Gordon, GA. Charles “Justin” Shinn was a passenger in his friend’s Chevy Blazer when one of the front wheels fell off causing the vehicle to overturn. The driver survived and I wish him my best in his recovery and dealing with the loss of his friend. Justin, however, was not wearing his seatbelt and was pinned beneath the vehicle.

Shinn and I were never really close friends. We never hung out outside of official Army business. In fact, I was always remember Shinn because I never figured him out. Reading the posts on his Facebook wall, I realize that he had a very dynamic sense of humor. That was partly why I never understood him; I could never figure out if he was joking or serious! I had many times when I was relieved that I was not in charge of him; that is saying a lot considering the squad that I actually was in charge of at the time!

When I first met Shinn in 2005, I was a fairly new non-commissioned officer and he was new to the unit. They asked me to take him to the range and get him qualified on the M-16. He stared me down for an entire hour while I tried to help him adjust his sites, improve his position, and help him reach the minimum 23 out of 40 targets. After a few hours, I was finally left with only one question for him, “Do you actually care if you qualify?” He gave a one word answer… “Nope.” That ended our first day together.

Over the next two and a half years, we would work one room apart in different platoons of the same company. We came to rely on him and his platoon for keeping our equipment up and running and providing technical expertise to improve the way we did things. Shinn and his platoon mates were so creative and innovative that some of their techniques were imitated by other units fielding the equipment we received in Iraq. I was always impressed with their platoon’s dynamic, how they always had jokes, seemed untouchable, and laughed often. Despite our first meeting, I really came to like Shinn. I was really happy to hear the news that he had been promoted to sergeant and just knew he would be a great NCO. Ironically, my last physical memory of Shinn though was not worthy of the NCO Creed, but is probably one that is still told in the 4th BSTB, 4th Brigade 101st Airborne Division.

Following our deployment, we had a full month of block leave and didn’t work a full five day week for a few months after that. But then it was time to play real Army again and get serious about training. We had a very strict (but fair) battalion sergeant major and a company commander that both stressed enforcing regulations and standards. This came to light first with the Army Physical Fitness Test (APFT). For those that don’t know, the APFT consists of two minutes of push-ups without resting your knees on the ground, two minutes of sit ups without resting in the down position, and a two mile run. I had the pleasure of being a grader for this first round of company-wide testing and had Shinn in my group. I can’t remember how he did on the sit ups and push ups, but I do know he passed. I knew Shinn was a decent runner so I started to get concerned when he didn’t show up around the 13 to 15 minute mark as I expected. I started to walk among the finishers to see if I had missed him crossing the line. Then the walkers began to come in (those that are injured and cannot run must complete a 2.5 mile walk). I started asking around… “Where’s Shinn?” One of his platoon mates began laughing and pointing in the distance… he’s right over there! In what I thought was impossible, Shinn, who appeared to be jogging, not walking, crossed the finish line in over 30 minutes. There seemed to be a story behind the performance; it appeared to be a pre-planned act of defiance in support of our enlisted troops. It propelled him to almost cult hero of the day in our unit and made many a senior NCO very unhappy (myself not included… I happily smirked).

I can’t say much more for what happened in between. He stayed in, deployed again, got promoted again… many of my friends kept in touch with him regularly. When I heard the news, I couldn’t stop thinking of him for two days. I remembered the good, the bad, and just remembered him. I guess it’s true what old vets say about their Army family… it really is like family. I am sad by the loss of a fellow Currahee, especially to a car accident. Life truly is a precious thing and my thoughts and prayers go to his family and close friends. I wish there were more I could do, but for the time being, I offer this as my tribute to a popular and effective soldier that refused to conform to the norms, but definitely got the job done for his fellow solders.