One Year

Sgt. Nick Tomko

Before long, Tomko was Mr. Popular. He could walk into a crowd of a hundred and have an inside joke with everybody in the room, said Spc. Erik Hamza, 24, of Greensburg.

Gathered in Jack Tomko's apartment Tuesday in Evans City, members of Nick Tomko's platoon from Iraq described him as a consummate professional with a wicked sense of humor.

Nick Tomko was the guy everyone knew was in the military for life.

"He was really proud to be in the service 100 percent of the time," said Spc. Javier Orona, 23, of Murrysville.

Col. Christine Stark said Tomko had all the elements that make a fine soldier: intuition, leadership, loyalty, dedication and smarts.

"He took care of us," said Spc. Luigi DiSilvestro, 22, of Republic, Fayette County.

Tomko would step in on behalf of others when their rank forced them to remain quiet, he said.

Tomko and his fellow soldiers befriended Iraqi children. One young boy, whom they called "Petey," earned a special reward from the sergeant -- a private dance lesson. Tomko was known around the platoon for his very bad -- but amusingly persistent -- dancing.

His sense of humor kept the platoon's mood light in Iraq.

"There couldn't be tension when Nick was around," Orona recalled.

Tomko earned a reputation as a prankster who would start a massive shaving-cream fight or tack a soldier's beloved stuffed animal to the wall.

"He was always the instigator," Hamza said.

In October 2003, Nick Tomko sent his dad a black flag with "You're in Steelers Country" painted on it in Arabic for his birthday.



From my personal journal, 09 Nov 2003. This may be a bit personal for some, too self-involved, too melodramatic, and will probably get pulled later, but I want to include it, so here it is.

The saying goes that there is no Athiests in foxholes, but that saying is wrong. In a firefight, all that exists is you, the people around you, the gun, and the bullets. Nothing is real beyond a 50 ft. radius, much less some celestial god.
And when a soldier dies, the suppossed god is not caring, nor cruel, nor watching. The reality of a neverending death comes crashing down, all other concerns and possibilities outside of friends and enemies are blown away.
Sgt. Nick Tomko died from rifle fire tonight, 1905, doing the night sweeps I described as "routine" last night.
Tomko and I were frinds, not super close but we lifted together and played video games and such...he sleeps 10 ft. away. At first I didn't like him, I thought he was just another meathead, but under the gym finished physique was acutually a fairly clever sense of humor, and we actually started getting along together very well.
Nick was younger than Eric, and left no wife, but he did have a small son. I remember the first time I met him was sitting in a corner with him & Peters playing with his son. I don't know what the mother's up to, but I hope she takes good care of him.
He had alot of friends here, and one particularly close girlfriend. They've been together since the beginning and she is a true wreck tonight...Jen's trying to help her, but...shit. what to say.

What follows is I guess even more personal, and then moves on through the next several days, some of the worst that my usually lucky company had to put up with. The now-classic "Veteran's Day Firefight", the day my tl finally snapped out, and so much more, only a short while before coming home.

As usual, I wish I had some eloquent way to close this, but hey. what is there to say. This veteran's day, while veterans appreciate being recognized, if you know someone that has lost a friend or relative overseas in any war, thank them. They sacrifice more than anyone.  ¶ 10:01 PM