This is a page in tribute to my son Spc. Spencer T. Karol who gave his life Operation Iraqi Freedom October 6, 2003. He was 20 years old. He loved his job in the ARMY and loved serving his country. He was a great son and a good brother to his three brother's and sister. We miss him very much and we are so proud of the work he did while in service to his country. This tribute is to show Spencer as a human being not just another number . Hopefully you can get the feeling of the kind of person he was to everyone he came in contact with at every age. I have a moving tribute to Spencer on my monster truck.
What happened to Spencer?
Bridget Madison lost her son Spc. Spencer T. Karol October 6, 2003 in Ar Ramadi, Iraq. Spencer was on a mission while supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom. He and his unit were to observe activity when a command detonated device exploded. His vehicle was overturned from the force of the explosion and Spencer was fatally injured. He was from a small town called Holbrook in Arizona. The town honor's Spencer and two other young fallen soldiers who were also from Holbrook , every year for Veteran's Day at The Holbrook High School. He was with 165th Military Intelligence Battalion V Corp, based in Darmstadt, Germany. Bridget wanted to do something for her son Spencer and remind people all over that he wasn't just a number, he had a family, siblings and his favorite dog named "Spaghetti". He had his whole life ahead of him to look forward to living. So Bridget had her monster truck wrapped in vinyl by Vinylworx in Yucca Valley, Ca. As a single mother of five she depended on her son to help her, and he did so willingly along with his big sister. She said" he helped me with his younger brother's, on our ranch fixing roofs, putting up fences, clearing brush, with the livestock and he did it all on his own without having to be told." Bridget remembers in the weeks before his death he was calling home more often. "He just kept calling and saying 'I love you, I love you Mom' "Said his mother. Bridget could feel he was going to be put into dangerous territory. His last words to her were "I'll be home in November". She will never forget the early morning hour the Army drove up the drive she could see them from the front window of her house. She ran out to their car and tried to keep them from getting out of the car running from each side of the car doors and trying to close them. She knew why they were there. This truck is a moving memorial to her son and it gives her great satisfaction and honor to drive it. She appears in parades and hopes it will bring honor to other families who have lost their loved ones in WAR. God Bless all our Troops! RLTW....see the truck on the slide show on http://www.myspace.com/themadranch Would you like to sign Spencer's Memorial Page?
If you can't use the link's copy and paste into your browser.
Fiddler's Green is the happy land imagined by sailors and soldiers where there is perpetual mirth, a fiddle that never stops playing and dancers who never tire. Furthermore, a ballad was written anonymously for the US Cavalry. Published in a 1923 US Cavalry Manual. It is still used in modern Cavalry Units to memorialize the deceased. In an ironic (and somewhat morbid) choice of names. "Fiddlers' Green" was the name of an artillery Fire Support Base in Military Region lll in Viet Nam in 1972 occupied principally by elements of 2nd Sqdn., 11th Armored Cavalry. Fiddlers'' Green was also the name of the informal bar at the Ft. Sill Officer's Club until the late 1980's. Ft. Sill oddly enough is the home of the US Army Field Artillery Branch. Fiddlers' Green Halfway down the trail to hell In a shady meadow green, Are the souls of all dead troopers camped Near a good old-time canteen And this eternal resting place Is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, stright through to hell, The infantry are seen, Accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery and Marine, For none but the shades of Cavalrymen Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail To seek a warmer scene, No trooper ever gets to Hell Ere he's emptied his canteen, And so rides back to drink again With friends at Fiddlers' Green
And so when man and horse go down Beneath a saber keen, Or in a roaring charge or fierce melee You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp, Just empty your canteen, And put your pistol to your head And go to Fiddlers' Green
If you would like to sign Spencer's Memorial Site:
http://www.fallenheroesmemorial.com/oif/profiles/karolspencert.html If you can't use the link copy and paste into your browser.
I SUPPORT "PATRIOT GUARD RIDERS"
"THEY STOOD FOR US~WE RIDE TO HONOR THEM"
OUR MISSION STATEMENT WE DON'T CARE WHAT YOU RIDE, NOR YOUR Political VIEWS. IT'S NOT A REQUIREMENT THAT YOU BE A VETERAN. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHERE YOU'RE FROM OR YOUR INCOME. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.
The only prerequisite is RESPECT!
Funeral of Corporal J. Anzak, Jr. Photo's Courtesy of Nigel Skeet