The News From Iraq Hits Hard at Home

A wooden sign in the shape of Iraq is planted in her front yard. Hewn by her son and decorated by her, it says, "We love Sgt. Zierk and Lima Co. and pray for their safe return. Semper Fi."

Isolde Zierk's ambition had been to shepherd the families and girlfriends through a long deployment and see all the men come home alive. When she heard of Derga's death, the company's first, she went into the bathroom of her employer's computer firm and pounded the wall.

"The first was the hardest. It is a reality of war now," Zierk said.

The unexpected battle in Ubaydi that killed Cpl. Derga and a Marine from another company also left at least five wounded. It began last Sunday as the Marines fought their way through town, turning up caches of bombs, guns and ammunition about 15 miles east of the Syrian border. In the last house they intended to search, fighters ambushed them from the crawl space beneath the floor.

One Marine was killed during an assault staged to retrieve the body of the first Marine who fell.

"They came here to die," Gunnery Sgt. Chuck Hurley, referring to the insurgents, told a Washington Post reporter embedded with the unit. "They were willing to stay in place and die with no hope. All they wanted was to take us with them."

Barely two days later, the same battered and weary squad from Lima Company's 1st Platoon was packed into an Amtrac troop carrier when it rolled over a roadside bomb. The truck went up in flames when the bomb detonated, sparking a fireworks of ammunition. Four more Marines died, all but one from Lima Company, and about 10 were wounded, some severely.

With embedded reporters transmitting details -- The Post ran two front-page articles; ex-Marine Lt. Col. Oliver L. North was working for Fox News nearby -- the home front was soon abuzz with news and rumors. Families feared the knock and the phone call. They tried to remember what they had been told, that no news usually means good news.

"We're horrified to read it, but we can't stop reading it. It's hard not to panic," said the wife of a Lima Company sergeant and volunteer group member who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "I find peace on different days in different ways. It's gut-wrenching. It's heart-pounding. But you're also very proud."

Pride in their Marine men and respect for their choices are common threads. Although Lima Company is a reserve unit, everyone seemed to know that the military is stretched thin, with the reserves and the National Guard bearing a large share of the burden and the casualties.

Wesley Davids sounded buoyant when he last spoke with his mother from Iraq. It reminded her of his passion for rowing, for which he sat in the powerhouse seven seat for the Dublin Crew, a local club.

"That defined Wesley in the boat and it defined him as a Marine. He wanted the camaraderie, the team spirit, being part of something bigger than he was. He talked about that," Jody Davids said. During that last phone call, she was surprised by his enthusiasm. She said, "Wes, you sound really great. Are you having a good time?"

"I'm having a great time," he replied. "I love the guys I'm serving with. I love what I'm doing. We're really well-trained. The mission is worth it."

Davids said her son "was a winner in everything he did. Unfortunately, not in this situation. We've had a lot of friends over to the house. They're telling us great stories about Wes. In a strange way, we're getting to know him."

Robert Derga spoke about his own son's passion for life. Dustin Derga's latest plans had been to take the savings from his active-duty assignment, buy a new Dodge pickup and join friends in running a bar. His girlfriend had sent him a computer disc full of vacation plans. Disney World in October.

Robert Derga and Dustin's mother divorced in 1998. At 10 p.m. last Sunday, Marines simultaneously appeared at their doors.

"The doorbell rang. I ran to the door. I saw through the light panel two Marine officers. I knew immediately then what had happened," Derga said. The Marines came and went, leaving him to grieve and remember.

"He was a great pitcher and could play just about any position. Loved to play catcher, which was unusual. I remember all the weekends we would go out to the ball diamonds and watch him play ball. Really enjoyed that. He loved working with his hands. He just loved doing things and getting his elbows dirty."