PETERSON SPACE FORCE BASE, Colo. -- [This article contains discussions of military combat, death, and the preparing for the deceased, which may be unsuitable for some readers. It is recommended that individuals who are sensitive to these themes exercise caution while reading as the content may be disturbing or upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.]
This is part two of a three-part series. Read part 1 here.
Enlisted at the time, Maj. Matthew Gallo’s first deployment was to Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany, also known as the “Gateway to Europe.” Rhein-Main AB was a historic installation, standing tall for almost 60 years, and providing support for military cargo throughout Europe.
Gallo felt frustrated that he and his team were not “in the fight” as he thought they should be. He wanted to be in the action, down range. Though this wasn’t what he pictured when he thought of deploying, his perspective quickly changed.
“This was the best schedule we ever worked in our lives,” Gallo recalled. “It was four-on and three-off, 14-hour days.”
Gallo’s tone shifted as he discussed the nature of his work during that deployment.
“As an air transportation specialist, we didn’t get trained in mortuary affairs; however, all of the bodies were coming through this base, living and dead. When the boxes would arrive, we would have to re-ice them and move them. There was a lot of touching and seeing. Some boxes weren’t as heavy as they should have been for a 190-pound male,” Gallo stated.
He and his team had to process the paperwork as each body came through. In doing so, they learned everything there was to know about the deceased service member. Gallo learned of the member’s children and how the person presumably died. He was intimately involved.
This deployment marked the beginning of combat-related traumas for Gallo.
Gallo described his next deployment to Balad Air Base, Iraq, as the worst one, with mortar attacks happening daily. The attacks were so frequent that when you arrived at the base, people would often say “Welcome to Mortaritaville.”
Over the course of three months, Gallo and his team worked non-stop, sometimes 30 days in a row. This type of work, at this rate of speed, is like a flying a plane without ever refueling. Eventually, you run out of gas, no matter how much you will the plane to fly. Leadership recognized this impending crash and gave the team a day off.
A looming feeling of guilt stuck with Gallo like glue. While he was in the fight, Gallo said he never felt like he was doing enough. He couldn’t allow himself to sit or rest on his day off; he needed to be doing something to help.
As he looked upon the vast desert of sand, Gallo saw row upon row of tan military tents. Among the tents stood one building, alone. The inside was stark white, from floor to ceiling; maybe so it was easier to clean up the blood. This facility was the largest hospital in Iraq, with each room holding a different story of hope and horror. Every day off for three months, Gallo walked to the isolated building, checked vitals for individuals in the intensive care unit, carried stretchers from the helicopter pad, and anything else he could do to be useful.
This continued until Gallo experienced something that still affects him to this day and described it in three words:
“War is Hell.”
“There were some munitions from an enemy attack that hit some children nearby, and the remains were subsequently brought to us,” he said. “I saw men get struck by mortars, which made sense given the context of war, but when I saw little innocent bodies come in like that, it tweaked my brain. I told my team that I was going to pump the brakes on volunteering for a little while. I think I went one more time to volunteer before we came back home, but it was just too much for me.”
For many, experiencing this type of trauma could turn a lot of individuals away from God. For Gallo, it solidified his relationship with his savior. He depicted war as not only hell but as mysterious. He was surrounded by death, but among all the pain, he felt a stronger appreciation for God and the miracles he provided.
Gallo’s third deployment was equally as memorable but for happier reasons. After arriving in Baghdad, Iraq, he headed to the airport terminal counter, which seemed higher than the average height it should be. He did not see a face, but only a pair of eyes meet his from behind the counter.
“My wife is only 4’11”,” he said as he laughed. “I saw the rest of my life in those eyes. I didn’t understand that at the time, and it took me a few years to come to the realization that that’s what the feeling was.”
Erica, Gallo’s wife, was an Army reservist and was on a year-long deployment. Gallo ended up working with her in the PAX terminal, so there were opportunities for him to talk to her. Though not ideal, there was a second place they could see each other. Anytime a mortar attack was imminent, people were sent to bunkers to take shelter; this is where Gallo and Erica spent most of their time getting to know each other.
Over the next few months, they became very close until Gallo’s deployment came to a close, and it was time for him to go home. Erica was staying as her deployment was longer.
“We were on a C-17 heading home,” he said smiling. “Everyone was cheering, and I didn’t want the guys to see me crying. It wasn’t until we got on the rotator that I walked into the bathroom and just lost it. I missed her.”
Now both being back in the states, Gallo and Erica knew they wanted to continue seeing each other. As a reservist, Erica had the flexibility to move and decided to make her way to New Jersey to be closer to Gallo.
Eight months later, Gallo spent a day planning how he would ask Erica to marry him. He scoured Jersey for a farmer that would let Gallo write something out in their field by pinning down tarp material to form each letter.
A large smile came across his face as he said, “I had a plan to write out ‘Erica, will you marry me please,’ but I ran out of tarp, so it just said, ‘Erica marry me.’”
Utilizing his pilot’s license, he flew her up over the field, banked left, and pulled out the engagement ring as she looked out the window. They have been married for 14 years.
Read part 3 here.