Like a lion stalking its prey across the Serengeti, so too does a Jody hunt — lurking in the night, ever vigilant in hopes of hearing that one magic word: “Deployment.”

So, how does one stop an insatiable Jody in his tracks? For one seaman, the solution was simple: Beat out the competition by simply being there.

On July 20, 1967, Petty Officer 1st Class David Jarvis Anderson submitted an unusual special leave request. His plea was simple.

“My wife is planning on getting pregnant this weekend,” he wrote, “and I would sure like to be there when it happens.”

Anderson’s tongue-in-cheek entreaty seemed to have worked. It was, after all, the Summer of Love.

While requests for special liberty can often reduce a poor service member to a desperate husk of a man, in 1967, it appears that the powers that be were a little more forgiving — allowing for Anderson to enjoy shore leave in the right port during a particularly crucial tide.

In traveling the seven-plus hours from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, to the coal mining town of Layland, West Virginia, the sailor thwarted all would-be Jody’s in the area upon his arrival home.

No word was readily available, however, on whether the pair’s weekend’s festivities produced the desired result.

Defense Health Agency officials are examining military treatment facilities across the military medical system, facility by facility, to determine their fate — which could include closing some facilities or downgrading some hospitals to clinics.

The process is in the “pre-decisional” stage, said DHA officials, speaking during a panel discussion at the Association of Defense Communities National Summit in Arlington, Virginia, on Monday. “We have to match our resources against the mission set that we have,” said Dr. Michael Malanoski, DHA’s deputy director.

“There will be some changes in services across the system,” he said. The process of evaluating the military treatment facilities started “many, many moons ago,” he added.

No decisions have been made yet at DHA, according to Rear Adm. Matthew Case, acting assistant director for health care administration at DHA. Any changes would have to be approved by Defense Department leadership, and Congress would have to be notified by law.

The issue is resources, Case and Malanoski said. The priority is readiness, especially at the largest facilities, where staff provide combat casualty care support, Case said. Those facilities, such as Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland, and Tripler Army Medical Center in Hawaii, must be ready to receive casualties, he said.

The Defense Health Agency has been fighting to keep its military treatment facilities staffed in recent years, as a shortage of medical personnel has affected facilities nationwide.

At the same time, officials are evaluating the situation in communities around military installations, recognizing there are locations in “medical deserts,” where not enough care is available in the civilian community for military beneficiaries.

“So we have to go ‘rack and stack’ of what the capabilities are,” Case said.

A rigorous analysis “facility by facility, location by location” is underway, Case said.

“We’re looking at not only is there an adequate Tricare network, but how [civilian medical facilities] are doing on Leapfrog scores,” he said. Those scores, compiled by a national nonprofit organization, collect and evaluate medical facilities’ information about quality and safety.

“Where are our patients going? What are the scores in those facilities? Are those facilities doing better than we are?” Case said.

At Monday’s panel discussion, a member of the Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, community asked about the status of the study, saying the community is concerned about the future of its military hospital because it is in a medical desert.

“When is this going to happen, and what should we be doing to provide input to you?” he asked panelists.

Senators Josh Hawley, R-Mo., and Robert Marshall, R-Kansas, have written to DHA officials demanding answers to whether the medical facilities at Fort Leonard Wood, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and Fort Riley, Kansas, were being considered for downgrades.

Although Case said he couldn’t speak specifically to Fort Leonard Wood’s military treatment facility, he said, “You have a beautiful, relatively new facility, but being able to man that properly is a challenge for us.”

Meanwhile, the military medical system has been working to attract patients back to military treatment facilities after forcing many military beneficiaries to seek outside care in the private sector. That push is being driven by both costs and medical readiness. DOD’s overall health care costs have risen as patients have migrated to the civilian sector. That decline in patients has also spurred the military services to seek more private-sector training opportunities to keep their medical staff’s clinical skills current.

VILNIUS, Lithuania — Lithuania’s political and religious leaders joined thousands of people on Thursday to bid farewell to four American soldiers who died during a training exercise in the Baltic nation.

President Gitanas Nausėda and other dignitaries were among those who stood in respect as hearses carried the bodies of the four young Americans to Vilnius airport before being flown to the United States for burial.

Many of the onlookers were in tears, and Nausėda said that the reaction of the population and the military to the disappearance of soldiers was rooted in Lithuania’s own difficult history.

“For us, it is more than a duty, it is an emotion. We have experienced trials in our history and therefore we understand well what loss is, what death is, what honorable duty is,” Nausėda said in a speech to those gathered.

Army identifies final soldier found deceased in Lithuania peat bog

Schoolchildren accompanied by teachers waved Lithuanian and U.S. flags to honor the soldiers, who died in an accident along NATO’s eastern flank, a region that is on edge due to Russia’s aggression in nearby Ukraine.

Leading one group was Justin Boyd, the secondary school principal of the American International School in Vilnius, who said his group was there “to honor the fallen soldiers from the United States and to honor the relationship between Lithuania and America and the defensive pact that represents.”

“It’s important for us to give dignity to the fallen and to let the families know that we are with them and we support them in this time,” Boyd said.

The soldiers, part of the 1st Armored Brigade Combat Team, 3rd Infantry Division, were on a tactical training exercise when they and their vehicle went missing a week ago, the Army said.

Lithuanian, Polish and U.S. soldiers and rescuers searched through the forests and swamps at the Gen. Silvestras Žukauskas training ground in the town of Pabradė, 6 miles west of the border with Belarus. The M88 Hercules armored vehicle was pulled from a peat bog Monday and the final body was recovered Tuesday.

“I feel sorry for these young men,” said one mourner from the town of Pabradė as he watched the hearses make their way towards the airport. “I live nearby, and I know that swamp. Dangerous places for anyone who enters that area.”

The U.S. Army has identified the soldiers as Staff Sgt. Troy S. Knutson-Collins, 28, of Battle Creek, Michigan; Staff Sgt. Jose Duenez Jr., 25, of Joliet, Illinois; Staff Sgt. Edvin F. Franco, 25, of Glendale, California; and Pfc. Dante D. Taitano, 21, of Dededo, Guam.

About 3,500 soldiers from the 1st Armored Brigade Combat Team deployed in January to Poland and the Baltic states for a nine-month rotation as part of Operation Atlantic Resolve, which supports NATO allies and partners following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

AP Video reporter Siarhei Satsiuk contributed reporting.

“December 7th 1941 was a watershed in the lives of nearly everyone in Hawaii,” wrote Wilfred J. “Jasper” Holmes in his memoir, “Double-Edged Secrets.”

“Monday dawned on a different world with different problems, different objectives, and different schedules, differently oriented than before Sunday’s sunrise.”

For Holmes, who had been medically retired from the Navy in 1936 before being recalled to active duty in June 1941 as a lieutenant and assigned to the Fourteenth Naval District intelligence staff at Pearl Harbor, that Monday after the day of infamy also dawned with a renewed purpose: revenge.

The 1st Air Fleet of Japan — known as Kido Butai — had not just assaulted the port at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, it had simultaneously hit every major airfield across the breadth of Oahu — Ewa Mooring Mast Field, Naval Air Station Pearl Harbor, Naval Air Station Kaneohe Bay, Wheeler Field, Hickam Field and others.

“In fact, Kido Butai was a truly revolutionary weapon system for its time because it embodied the conceptual leap from single-carrier to coordinated multicarrier operations,” according to the U.S. Naval Institute. “Kido Butai’s ascendancy would last only about six months before it was permanently mauled at the Battle of Midway, but during that time there was nothing else like it.”

For Holmes, who was present on the day of the attack, the trauma of it all remained close to his heart for most of the war.

Holmes had come to Estimates Section of the Fleet Radio Unit Pacific (FRUPAC), or Station HYPO as it was known, via an unusual route.

Graduating from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1922, Holmes was originally a line officer in the Navy — a submariner — before arthritis in the spine forced him to retire. (He noted in his memoir that at the beginning of the war he had neither a desk at which to work nor even a chair — “a real handicap for anyone with arthritis of the spine” — adding that he eventually brought his own chair from home.)

Soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor, however, Holmes became involved in much more vital work than his prewar task of keeping track of the positions of noncombatant ships at sea in the Eastern Pacific, according to the U.S. Naval Institute. He also got his own desk.

From his underground lair at HYPO, Holmes’ duties expanded under Cmdr. Joseph J. Rochefort and his Communications Intelligence Unit, an outfit best known for the breaking of the Japanese naval encryption code JN-25 — classified as “Ultra — and helping to deliver an American victory at the Battle of Midway.

Despite being neither a cryptologist nor an intelligence officer by training, Holmes became deeply involved in the interpretation and analysis of Japanese wireless intercepts, according to the Galveston Naval Museum. In fact, he was one of a handful of officers in Hawaii who was privy to material classified above “top secret.”

But Holmes never forgot Pearl Harbor, nor his roots as a submariner.

In his memoir, Holmes revealed his personal vendetta against the Japanese and the anonymous thanks he would send to U.S. submarine skippers for helping him to achieve revenge:

Of the six Japanese aircraft carriers that had taken part in the attack on Pearl Harbor, the Shokaku was the fifth to be sunk. We had long since identified all the ships of the Kido Butai that had attacked Pearl Harbor, and their silhouettes were posted on the wall in the Estimates Section. It gave me an unprofessional vindictive satisfaction to check off each of those ships as it was sunk. I told Voge I would give a bottle of Scotch to any submarine skipper who sank one of them. Voge was careful to present every qualifying skipper for his bottle, but I never saw Herman J. Kossler, the captain of the Cavalla, after he sank the Shokaku. Kossler was the only submarine captain to sink a capital ship of the Kido Butai, and I still owe him a bottle of Scotch.

Holmes’ act of thanks soon spread among the Pacific fleet. Edward L. Beach, a submariner in the Pacific whose first novel, “Run Silent Run Deep,” became a Hollywood blockbuster, confirmed the officer’s dedication to revenge.

Beach recalled many years later:

[Holmes] had become an intelligence officer at Pearl Harbor and, after the attack on the Day of Infamy, had taken on himself the particular and personal dedication to see the destruction of every ship that had participated in it. During the war, from time to time, commanders of submarines would receive by messenger, without explanation, a bottle of fine whiskey [scotch]. Little by little the word got around that one of the ships sunk on a recent patrol had carried special significance for someone. In this way Jasper Holmes never left out submarines. It was through him that we would receive orders to be somewhere at a certain time — and on occasion there was a bottle of booze at the end of the trail.

Of the six carriers, two battleships, two heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, 12 destroyers and seven auxiliary oilers of the Kido Butai only the destroyer, Ushio, survived the Pacific War. In other words, quite a lot of Scotch.

After the war Holmes once again retired from the Navy, returning to the University of Hawaii where he eventually became the dean of the engineering department.

After more than 30 years, the existence of Ultra intelligence — and Holmes’ Scotch-fueled revenge — was finally made public.

In 2006, shortly after graduating high school, 19-year-old Jonathan Phillips deployed to Iraq’s Anbar Province at one of the most volatile times in that bloody conflict.

On Jan. 20, 2007, Lance Cpl. Phillips faced a fierce nighttime ambush that launched him into a national security scandal and led to him spending 20 months in prison, half of that time in solitary confinement.

But that wouldn’t be the end of his story. Phillips fought back and ultimately received an honorable discharge, battlefield distinction and medical retirement from his combat-sustained injuries.

The legal battles were only one front in his personal war. The other required years of rehabilitation and therapy, which helped him put down his story in his own words.

Phillips chronicled his background, the Iraq incident and his post-service struggles in the book, “The Fifth General Order: A Memoir of War, Resilience, and Redemption.” He recently spoke to Military Times about the process of writing the book and what he hoped it would convey.

Editor’s Note: The below Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.

Q: When did you decide to write a book about your experience?

A: So, it kind of started in treatment. I put myself through a 20-month intensive outpatient program, and what my logic behind it was, I spent 20 months in the brig devolving, so I need 20 months to really reverse that. That was my logic. And what the doctors had me do during those modalities was basically just make a list of chronological traumas and go through all those combat events, all those legal events that I couldn’t get out of my head. Toward the end of treatment, after I got all that, the book became the logical corollary.

Q: What did you learn while going through the process of writing and publishing the book?

A: I had to learn, and step by step — just like in the Marine Corps — adapt and overcome, and figure out how to get it edited and get it published. I’ve gotten a lot of great feedback from Vietnam veterans being really inspired. A lot of them didn’t have their stories told. I’ve had a lot of Iraq veterans reach out on top of the ones that I served with, and they’re really inspired.

Q: Beyond legal reforms to the Uniform Code of Military Justice or military prosecution, what do you think your story highlights for the military to consider?

A: Well, the way I see it is, the Pentagon systemically perpetuates corruption by silencing scandals. They circumvent congressional oversight by forcing veterans into plea deals with not the best legal representation. I mean, they’ve kind of weaponized the UCMJ to circumvent congressional oversight, and Congress needs to be a lot more aware of what’s actually going on. Is it a winning strategy? No.

Q: Much of this struggle was on your own, but did you have support while battling these charges and the aftermath?

A: I mean, that’s the only reason why I really survived, was between my mother, my father and my platoon commander. If they hadn’t reached out to their congressman, who reached out to their Pentagon official, I never would have left solitary. That’s when things really started changing. They really were my rocks and saved my life. They were the wrench in the socket for the Pentagon.

Q: Based on your experience, what advice would you share to current service members?

A: Never waive your rights to legal representation, ever. Always make sure an interrogation is recorded with a video, or at the very least, an audio recorder. Those are very, very simple things because it’s what you can prove, right? Those things could serve as the bedrock for court martials and trials, and if they’re not recorded, it’s their word against yours. If a veteran is ever, or a service member is ever, facing an avalanche like what’s happened to me, the one thing that — if I could go back retrospectively — I would say is, never keep your mouth shut. Always speak. Don’t let them bully you into keeping quiet or being humiliated by a smear article. Just keep talking, keep reaching out to reporters, just go get it out there as much as you can so that there’s oversight.

Maj. Robert Alfred Lodge was the consummate professional in U.S. Air Force circles. In his second tour of duty over Vietnam he approached the coveted status of “fighter ace.” Even though he fell short of that marker, he left behind a legacy for his branch of service.

Born in New York City on June 30, 1941, Lodge decided on his career early, entering Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps during his first year at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and obtaining his Master of Science degree in aeronautics at Purdue University, Indiana, from June 1964 to March 1965, while at the same time attending the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

“Bob Lodge was a friend,” said Vietnam War ace Richard Stephen “Steve” Ritchie in an interview with Military Times. “A fellow 1964 graduate of the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and one of my former students in the Air Force Top Gun school at Nellis Air Force base, Nevada, he was promoted to major in three years, which is the earliest possible.”

At 103, this P-51 Mustang pilot could soon become WWII’s last ace

In March 1966 Lodge qualified as a pilot at Moody Air Force Base, Georgia. Among the assignments that followed were bombing missions over North Vietnam. From December 1966 to July 1967 Lodge flew in a Republic F-105D Thunderchief with the 357th Tactical Fighter Squadron (TFS) from Takhli Royal Thai Air Force Base.

Upon his second tour in Vietnam in January 1971, he was chief of the Fighter Tactics Branch for the 432nd Tactical Reconnaissance Wing, operating from Udorn Royal Thai Air Force Base.

By this time, Lodge, now a major, was flying a McDonnell F-4D Phantom II fighter — equipped with the latest APG-81 “Combat Tree” radar — of the 555th TFS with 1st Lt. Roger Locher as his weapons systems operator (WSO). On Feb. 21, 1972, the duo was credited with shooting down a Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21 of the Vietnamese People’s Air Force (VPAF).

On May 8, President Richard Nixon launched an all-out bombing campaign against North Vietnamese industrial and transport targets, with the Viet Cong responding in kind.

The U.S. fielded far more aircraft with the latest technology, while the North Vietnamese countered with a defensive “triad” comprised of surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) at the highest altitude, MiG fighters below them and anti-aircraft artillery (AAA) awaiting the lowest-flying enemy aircraft, all coordinated by ground control intercept (GCI).

Flying on the first day of the campaign Lodge and Locher were credited with another MiG-21 — their victim was most likely Lt. Vo Sy Giap of the 921st Fighter Regiment, who after being hit tried to force-land, only to see his plane descending on the Truong Trung Secondary School. He veered to avoid it but crashed and died of his injuries on May 11.

May 10, 1972, proved to be the largest and wildest air engagement of the Vietnam War, with the U.S. Air Force, U.S. Navy and Vietnamese People’s Air Force committing all they had. That morning Lodge led four Phantoms of “Oyster Flight,” 555th TFS, which included his old schoolmate, Capt. Steve Ritchie.

“The plan was to go in low level with Combat Tree birds, to intercept and defeat enemy fighters that would attempt to prevent our strike Phantoms from dropping their highly accurate laser guided bombs,” Ritchie said in an interview. “Approaching our planned orbit some 25 to 30 miles west of Hanoi, we stayed below 300 feet as planned and continued radio silence until we electronically spotted a flight of four MiG-21s in orbit northwest of Hanoi.”

The F-4s turned north, pointing their radar sensors skyward to achieve full system radar lock-ons at 15 miles. Closing at 1,200 mph, the computers for their radar-guided AIM-7 Sparrow missiles indicated they were in range and the first two jets — Lodge’s Oyster One and Oyster Two crewed by 1st Lt. John Markle and Capt. Stephen Eaves — launched their Sparrows at seven miles. Within seconds, two MiGs fell in flames.

“Lodge and I, in Oyster One and Three, immediately turned our fighters as hard as possible to achieve rear-quarter positions on the remaining two MiGs,” said Ritchie. “I locked on to the third MiG using the auto-acquisition switch on the left throttle and fired two Sparrows at a range of 6,000 feet.” His second missile exploded under the fuselage and the pilot bailed out at 15,000 feet. Ritchie had his first of an eventual five victories.

North Vietnamese accounts mention MiG-21 MFs of the 921st Fighter Regiment, scrambling up from Kep airbase, being ambushed and pilot Nguyen Van Ngai being killed immediately — probably by Lodge and Locher.

A second 921st pilot was reportedly killed by one of the VPAF’s own SAMs and another MiG-21 was damaged by 20mm “friendly fire” as it returned to Noi Lai Air Base. Cao Son Khau, after claiming an F-4, was struck by a missile — possibly Ritchie’s — and ejected, only to subsequently die of injuries.

Thus far, Ritchie thought Oyster Flight had performed splendidly: “a perfectly planned, perfectly executed mission, resulting in four American victories. But it was too good to be true. Bob Lodge got the first MiG for his third victory and he and Locher were positioning for a shot at MiG number four when we spotted some MiG-19s coming down on him from above and behind. ‘Oyster One — Break! — Break!’ we screamed. ‘MiG-19s at six o’clock. Oyster One, Oyster One — Break! MiG-19s firing!’ He did not respond to our frantic calls and was hit by enemy cannon fire. Within seconds, the Phantom burst into flames and rolled.”

Lodge and Locher had been ambushed not by a Mach-2 MiG-21, but a Shenyang J-6, a Chinese-built version of the Mach-1 MiG-19, newly delivered to the 925th Fighter Regiment and only operational since May 8. The VPAF credited Nguyen Van Phuc of the 925th with the destruction of Lodge’s Phantom.

“What began as a triumph was ending in tragedy,” Ritchie lamented. “Two of America’s finest young officers, and two very close friends, were going down in flames, and Oyster Two, Three and Four were being chased out by the remaining MiG-21 and the MiG-19s. It was not supposed to end that way. He had three victories at that time and would probably have made ace if that MiG-19 hadn’t downed him. He did not bail out. He was the wing’s weapons officer, and always told us that if he was ever shot down, ‘I will not be captured.’ None of us believed him.”

“Lodge’s Phantom was upside down,” Ritchie continued, “on fire and out of control at 7,000 feet when he told Roger Locher, ‘You can bail out if you want to.’ Locher barely made it, but Lodge knew too much information and was concerned that the North Vietnamese might get it out of him, so he rode the plane down. After the May 10 mission I became weapons officer for the 432nd FRW.”

Locher was still missing as his squadron mates overflew the area, hearing nothing from his survival radio but likewise no news of his death or capture from the North Vietnamese.

Then, on June 1, a 555th TFS strike force was near Yen Bai Air Base, some 70 miles northwest of Hanoi, when a call came up: “Any U.S. aircraft — this is Oyster-Zero-Zero-Bravo — over.”

The 555th was not using the Oyster call sign that day, but its pilots suddenly realized: “My God, that’s Roger Locher!”

They answered and Locher said, “Hey, guys, I’ve been down here a long time. Any chance of picking me up?”

Ritchie radioed back, “You bet — you bet there is!”

“Back at Udorn we quickly planned and launched one of the deepest, most difficult and dangerous rescues ever attempted,” Ritchie continued. “There were numerous SAM sites and more than adequate AAA around Yen Bai, one of North Vietnam’s most important airfields. And of all places, Locher was only five miles off the south end of the runway.”

Gen. John Vogt Jr., commander of Air Forces in Vietnam/Thailand, canceled the day’s 150-plane strike mission to Hanoi and dedicated the more than 150 aircraft to rescuing Locher.

Despite a record 23 days of evasion deep in enemy territory, Sikorsky HH-3 Jolly Green Giant rescue helicopters extracted Locher with no injuries and no losses.

Lodge, however, was not as lucky.

In 1977 the Vietnamese government returned Lodge’s remains, which have since been interred in the U.S. Air Force Academy Cemetery.

With two combat tours, 186 sorties in 2,000 flying hours and the Silver Star with four oak leaf clusters, Lodge has also posthumously received the Senior Pilot’s Wings and the 1974 Jabara Award.

The Navy has awarded defense and aviation technology company Shift5 a contract to test predictive maintenance technology on the V-22 Osprey, which the company hopes might prevent gearbox catastrophes that have proven fatal in recent years.

Under Shift5′s contract with Naval Air Systems Command, or NAVAIR, the Marine Corps will run the company’s manifold technology on Osprey’s flown by its operational test squadron. This will allow the V-22 Joint Program Office to test how well continuous operational data monitoring works on the tilt-rotor aircraft, and how to develop rules for detecting maintenance problems that need to be quickly addressed, the company said in a release Wednesday.

“Given the criticality of solving some of these life-threatening issues that are happening on the V-22, it really is all about providing real-time insights to the crew for situational awareness so they can make better decisions,” said Shift5 chief executive and co-founder Josh Lospinoso.

Perhaps most critically, Lospinoso said, the predictive maintenance technology could help the military understand how problems called “hard clutch engagements” happen. Hard clutch engagements occur when an Osprey’s clutch connecting the engine to a propeller’s rotor gearbox briefly slips and then reengages. This can cause the aircraft to lurch and damage crucial components, which, in some instances, has been a factor in fatal Osprey crashes.

Five Marines died in a June 2022 Osprey crash in Southern California, which was later attributed to a hard clutch engagement. Multiple other Ospreys have experienced hard clutch engagements that alarmed Air Force leaders and have, at times, caused aircrews to cut flights short.

An Air Force CV-22B Osprey also crashed off the coast of Japan in November 2023, killing eight airmen and prompting a military-wide grounding of the tilt-rotor aircraft that lasted for months. The Air Force concluded that a critical gear in that Osprey’s proprotor gearbox failed and caused the crash.

Shift5′s manifold device will help build a dataset of clutch engagements, analyzing whether such engagements are becoming more aggressive and contributing factors, Lospinosa said.

“That really is the Holy Grail that NAVAIR has been after,” he said in an interview with Defense News.

Shift5′s device, a four-pound box that will be plugged into the Osprey’s data network, will upgrade how the aircraft collects data and make it more readily available to aircrews via a tablet-like display, Lospinoso said. Until now, he said, the most important data on hard clutch engagements have typically been only able to be accessed after the aircraft lands and investigators dive deep into the aircraft’s inner workings.

“It’s, in some cases, literally just taking data that already exists on a data bus and presenting it to the user,” Lospinoso said.

That data can include precise readings on the intensity and frequency of vibrations within the gearbox, for example, Lospinoso said.

The device could also give Osprey pilots reminders about the many actions they need to take and environmental factors they need to monitor, he said, which could reduce the chances of human error.

“Being an Osprey pilot is probably the most challenging job flying any aircraft of any kind,” Lospinoso said. “If they forget to take [certain steps], it can be extremely dangerous, but there’s nothing in the cockpit alerting them to [the fact that] these conditions exist. [The Shift5 device’s alerts are] almost like the equivalent of a seat belt reminder.”

According to Lospinoso, Shift5′s device will just be tested by the Joint Program Office for now. Eventually, the company hopes to have them installed in all of the military’s Ospreys, which he said would require a phased approach of taking some Ospreys down to install the devices during maintenance. He hopes the military and Shift5 might be able to start working towards full fielding of the device in the next quarter.

The U.S. Naval Academy has removed nearly 400 books from its library after being told by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s office to review and get rid of ones that promote diversity, equity and inclusion, U.S officials said Tuesday.

Academy officials were told to review the library late last week, and an initial search had identified about 900 books for a closer look. They decided on nearly 400 to remove and began doing so Monday, finishing before Hegseth arrived for a visit Tuesday that had already been planned and was not connected to the library purge, officials said. A list of the books has not yet been made available.

Pulling the books off the shelves is another step in the Trump administration’s far-reaching effort to eliminate so-called DEI content from federal agencies, including policies, programs, online and social media postings and curriculum at schools.

Pentagon spokesman Sean Parnell said late Tuesday, “All service academies are fully committed to executing and implementing President Trump’s Executive Orders.”

US Coast Guard Academy censors ‘climate change’ from its curriculum

The Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, the Air Force Academy near Colorado Springs, Colorado, and the U.S. Military Academy in West Point, New York, had not been included in President Donald Trump’s executive order in January that banned DEI instruction, programs or curriculum in kindergarten through 12th grade schools that receive federal funding. That is because the academies are colleges.

Pentagon leaders, however, suddenly turned their attention to the Naval Academy last week when a media report noted that the school had not removed books that promoted DEI. A U.S. official said the academy was told late last week to conduct the review and removal. It isn’t clear if the order was directed by Hegseth or someone else on his staff.

A West Point official confirmed that the school had completed a review of its curriculum and was prepared to review library content if directed by the Army. The Air Force and Naval academies had also done curriculum reviews as had been required.

An Air Force Academy official said the school continually reviews its curriculum, coursework and other materials to ensure it all complies with executive orders and Defense Department policies. Last week, Lt. Gen. Tony Bauernfeind, the Air Force Academy superintendent, told Congress that the school was in the middle of its course review, but there was no mention of books.

The officials spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss academy policies.

Hegseth has aggressively pushed the department to erase DEI programs and online content, but the campaign has been met with questions from angry lawmakers, local leaders and citizens over the removal of military heroes and historic mentions from Defense Department websites and social media pages.

In response, the department has scrambled to restore some of those posts as their removals have come to light.

The confusion about how to interpret the DEI policy was underscored Monday as Naval Academy personnel mistakenly removed some photos of distinguished female Jewish graduates from a display case as they prepared for Hegseth’s visit. The photos were put back.

In a statement, the Navy said it is aware that photos were mistakenly removed from the Naval Academy Jewish Center. It said U.S. Naval Academy leadership was immediately taking steps to review and correct the unauthorized removal.

Hegseth spoke with students and had lunch at the academy Tuesday, but media were not invited or allowed to cover the visit.

Army Maj. Erica Vandal has spent her entire adult life on active duty.

A graduate of the U.S. Military Academy, she’s served her country proudly for nearly 14 years.

Military service is in her blood. Her father also graduated from West Point and served in the Army for 40 years. One of her brothers is a former Marine Corps pilot, and another is an active-duty Navy pilot.

“The military is a critical component of my identity,” Vandal said.

As a transgender soldier, she now finds herself battling for her right to continue her family’s legacy of service. Soon after taking office, President Donald Trump called for the imminent dismissal of all transgender service members — a policy introduced through an executive order Jan. 27 and further outlined in a Pentagon memo on Feb. 26.

The memo says individuals with a diagnosis or symptoms of gender dysphoria have medical, surgical and mental health constraints “incompatible with the high mental and physical standards necessary for military service.”

The administration’s policy immediately ignited fierce legal disputes in several courts around the country over the constitutionality of the ban. Multiple service members, lawyers and advocates said the rollout was rushed and sloppy, creating confusion among branches over how to enforce it and ambiguity for service members over how to comply.

Information presented as facts by the government was also incorrect, they argued, and painted an inaccurate portrait of everything from the cost of gender-affirming care to the ability of transgender troops to do their jobs.

Defense officials have said that about 4,000 transgender individuals are currently serving in the military, both on active duty and in the reserves. In the face of the ban, Vandal and other transgender service members told Military Times they were dedicated to continuing in their posts.

The ban went back on the promise Vandal said was made to transgender service members in 2016, when the Defense Department announced a policy permitting transgender people to serve openly in the military. Vandal is currently suing the Trump administration over the ban, along with dozens of other plaintiffs in Talbott v. Trump, a case being heard in the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia.

The Defense Department and Justice Department declined to comment on the case or answer other questions about the new transgender service policy.

One part of the Feb. 26 memo claimed the physical and mental health constraints of transgender service members prevented them from meeting military standards, such as readiness, lethality, honesty and integrity. Regarding that section, Vandal said, “It was a difficult thing to hear … how both my service and my personhood was characterized by the government.”

The Trump administration’s executive order was even more damning in its characterization of transgender troops.

“Beyond the hormonal and surgical medical interventions involved, adoption of a gender identity inconsistent with an individual’s sex conflicts with a soldier’s commitment to an honorable, truthful, and disciplined lifestyle, even in one’s personal life,” the executive order stated. “A man’s assertion that he is a woman, and his requirement that others honor this falsehood, is not consistent with the humility and selflessness required of a service member.”

But lawyers and advocates who spoke to Military Times fundamentally disagreed — not only with what they characterized as the ban’s blatant discrimination against transgender personnel — but the rationale behind the ban. They pointed to a lack of evidence, and outright mistreatment, of those who had served their country honorably.

Legal battles unfold

One day after Trump signed the executive order, his administration was hit with the Talbott v. Trump lawsuit.

GLAD Law and the National Center for Lesbian Rights, or NCLR, first filed the lawsuit on behalf of six active-duty service members and two other people seeking enlistment. Since then, 26 other plaintiffs have joined the case.

After several months of court proceedings, U.S. District Judge Ana Reyes issued a preliminary injunction March 18, blocking the ban on transgender troops. She described the Defense Department’s new policy as a “solution in search of a problem” and counterproductive to national security.

The government filed a motion for an emergency stay, which, if granted, would stop the preliminary injunction from taking effect and reinstitute the ban. The court had yet to rule on the stay as of Wednesday.

Shannon Minter, one of NCLR’s lead attorneys in the Talbott case, along with GLAD attorney Jennifer Levi, were instrumental in shutting down the first Trump administration’s attempt at a transgender military ban in 2017.

“It violates the requirement, the constitutional requirement, of equal protection,” Minter said of the new ban.

The main objective of the courts, he explained, was to determine whether the DOD policy furthered the agenda the department said it was enacted to advance, including increased lethality, cohesion and all the other tenets laid out in the memo and executive order.

“The question here for the courts is, ‘Does banning transgender people serve those interests?’” Minter said.

The case has also brought up concerns over a potential invasion of privacy.

A March 21 memo from the Office of the Under Secretary of Defense said the Defense Department would sift through medical records as the primary means to identify transgender service members for dismissal. This tally wouldn’t only target the records of transgender troops, Minter said, but it would involve all service members’ records — a mass violation of personal information.

The military’s proposed method would also risk outing service members as transgender who hadn’t shared that information with their fellow troops, according to Minter.

On March 28, another federal court sided with plaintiffs in a separate case involving transgender service members suing the government over the ban. U.S. District Judge Benjamin Hale Settle issued a nationwide preliminary injunction, also blocking the executive order and DOD policy. The government filed a notice of appeal in both the Talbott and Shilling rulings.

A months’ long legal showdown involving filings and oral arguments is now expected to follow, and depending on the outcome, either side could ask for the Supreme Court to hear the case. If the highest court in the land chose to listen, it would delay a final decision even longer.

Some advocates expressed optimism, despite the possibility of an extended timeline with a host of potential outcomes.

“Nothing gets solved in a week, and we’re in the fight for the long haul,” said Christopher Hooper, co-Founder of SPARTA, a nonprofit comprised of transgender service members and veterans. “To deny any patriotic American the right to serve is unwholly anti-American.”

Inconsistent information

Five more years — that’s all the time one transgender Navy lieutenant had left to reach their 20-year mark in the military and qualify for retirement pay, having already served for 15.

But their plans quickly changed when the ban on transgender troops was released. They began thinking about their future in the military, and whether they had one.

The Navy lieutenant, River, said there was no way to take the policy other than personally. Military Times granted River the use of an alias due to their fear of retaliation from the Defense Department.

“In this current political environment, I don’t see that I am going to be able to survive for five more years as a transgender person in the Navy,” River said. “It’s not getting easier for me to exist as myself.”

River sought to voluntarily separate from the military after the announcement, but that separation process has become convoluted. A combination of the ongoing legal battles, confusion over how to enforce the new policy and the mirky logistics surrounding dismissals of transgender troops had devolved the situation into chaos, advocates and lawyers said.

The Pentagon’s Feb. 26 memo, as well as a DOD release two days later, stated transgender service members had 30 days from the date of the memo to voluntary separate from the military. Doing so would make them eligible for voluntary separation pay that equaled twice the amount of an involuntary separation, the memo promised. Among other incentives, the guidelines said those who voluntarily separated would not have to repay bonuses.

Waivers would be granted for transgender troops to remain in the military if there was a “compelling government interest in retaining the service member who directly supports warfighting,” the memo said. The Pentagon added the caveat that troops had to demonstrate they never attempted to transition to another sex besides the one they were assigned at birth, and they must follow the military standards of the sex they were assigned at birth.

River decided to take the voluntary separation because they expected the process to only get more complex with time. They guessed there would be more ambiguity to policies, more injunctions and court proceedings and more confusion over how to enforce the ban. Already, River argued, there was a gap in guidance. Commanders didn’t know how to respond to the executive orders, the memos and the administrative orders, they said.

This vagueness could embolden bad actors to discriminate against transgender service members, River argued. While many leaders were doing right by their personnel, treating them with dignity and respect, River was uncertain about how they would be treated moving forward.

“I don’t want to be at the whim of somebody’s personality,” River said.

Navy details separation process for transgender personnel

There appeared to be confusion at first over the exact deadline for service members to voluntarily separate, with different services listing different dates. Lindsay Church, executive director and co-founder of Minority Veterans of America, argued the lack of continuity was representative of the military’s haphazard handling of the new policy.

Citing the difference in deadlines, Minter described the whole process as “utter chaos.” Service members had no time to make a massive decision, and they were asked to do so with unclear information and no guidance, he said.

“This is the complete opposite of any sort of respectful, orderly process,” Minter said. “This is no way to run anything, much less the military of the United States, and it’s no way to treat these service members.”

After the Shilling ruling, the Navy released an administrative order that paused voluntary and involuntary separations until further notice. Spokespeople for the Air Force and Army told Military Times they had received guidance to pause the processing of voluntary and involuntary separations. A Coast Guard spokesperson said in an emailed statement that the service had “not initiated action to separate transgender service members.”

As March came to an end, River was told their voluntary separation was on hold.

“It’s just another reminder that as long as I’m in the military, I don’t have agency over mine or my family’s lives,” River told Military Times during the confusion.

An end to gender-affirming care

The Trump administration has asserted that transgender people have medical and surgical health constraints that are incompatible with the standards of military service. But for River, that is not their lived experience.

The idea of transgender service members requiring extensive medical care was a “disinformation campaign,” River claimed.

“My gender-affirming care takes five minutes every Sunday.”

The Defense Department and Justice Department declined to comment about the health care costs of transgender troops for gender-affirming care. They also declined to provide any details about the medical and psychological constraints of transgender service members.

In January, officials from the Congressional Research Service said the Defense Department spent about $15 million between January 2016 and May 2021 to provide gender-affirming care to 1,892 active-duty troops, at a cost of about $8,000 per person.

The Pentagon’s Feb. 26 memo announced the Defense Department would no longer sanction transgender service member’s gender-affirming care, including gender-affirmation surgery or hormone therapy. For certain service members who began hormone therapy prior to the memo’s release, there was a possibility they could continue treatment until their separation, the memo stated.

On March 17, the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs announced an end to transgender-related care for veterans.

Allison Jaslow, a former Army captain and the CEO of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, said she opposed the administration’s move to draw the line over medical care for transgender troops and veterans.

“The checks that the American taxpayer has been writing to invest in these service members, in many cases, has been significant,” Jaslow said. “And then we’re going to get cheap on their medical care, whether they’re still serving or if they’re a veteran?”

The rationale for their expulsion didn’t make sense to her, either. Some transgender service members are serving as Army Special Forces soldiers, who Jaslow described as the “baddest of the baddest asses.” The argument that they negatively affect lethality doesn’t hold up, she contended.

Policies already exist to maximize the military’s lethality and war-fighting capabilities, insisted one transgender Army officer who spoke to Military Times.

Army troops must take a physical fitness test twice a year, pass marksmanship tests and clear other hurdles to remain in the service, said the officer, Sarah. Military Times granted Sarah the use of an alias, out of fear that attention from the public would distract from her unit’s mission.

“The trans people that are in the military right now, they meet the standard, because if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be here,” she said.

Advocates argued the military isn’t in a position with its recruiting numbers to kick out service members who meet the necessary standards.

“We are facing recruiting and retention challenges,” said Lucas Schleusener, CEO of Out In National Security, a nonprofit that supports LGBTQ national security professionals. “We should have every possible talent in the pool.”

A commitment to serve

Maj. Erica Vandal had wanted to join the military since she was a kid. Now that her dream is a reality, she wished it wouldn’t end.

“I want to be able to continue my career, to continue this lifelong passion of mine,” she said.

If the ban does go through, Vandal said she’d try to find another way to serve her country.

Sarah, who has served in the Army for 17 years, said the ban, legal battles and back and forth on guidelines over the past two months were distractions from performing in her role as a warfighter. Even with the introduction of the policy targeting transgender troops like her, she was trying to focus on the work, she said. People depended on her to be excellent every day, and that’s what she plans to keep doing.

“I have a commitment to my country,” she said.

For River, even as they processed the possibility of the ban being enacted and their voluntary separation going through, they were holding onto the possibility of a way to continue on — of finding a path forward where they could still put on their uniform like they had been for over a decade.

“I just want to serve,” they said.

The U.S. military has deployed more of its most advanced fighter jets to the Middle East as it continues to strike Yemen’s Houthi rebels, an Iran-backed terrorist group attacking commercial ships in the Red Sea, according to multiple congressional aides.

The fifth-generation F-35A is the Air Force’s premier fighter, which includes stealth capabilities and advanced sensors and can carry a variety of air-to-air and air-to-ground guided weaponry.

The Pentagon previously surged the fighters to the Middle East amid the conflict in Gaza, while trying to contain a full regional war. While there, the fighters conducted airstrikes against the Houthis during the Biden administration’s campaign to reopen shipping lanes.

How Trump’s team flipped on bombing the Houthis

More than two weeks into the Trump administration’s intensified airstrike campaign in Yemen, Hegseth has rushed further military assets to U.S. Central Command. He’s extended the deployment of the Harry S. Truman Carrier Strike Group in the Red Sea and announced the carrier Carl Vinson and its strike group would soon join it. The Pentagon has also sent multiple A-10 Warthogs to the region and at least six B-2 stealth bombers to Navy Support Facility Diego Garcia, a U.S. base in the Indian Ocean.

That means that roughly half of the Air Force’s B-2 fleet that is able to carry out missions is now deployed to Diego Garcia. The Air Force has 20 total B-2 Spirits, but only about 55% of them were mission-capable in 2024, according to service statistics.

At the same time, the U.S. has redirected multiple scarce air defense systems from South Korea to the Middle East, including two Patriot batteries and one Terminal High Altitude Area Defense, or THAAD, battery.

“Secretary Hegseth continues to make clear that, should Iran or its proxies threaten American personnel and interests in the region, the United States will take decisive action to defend our people,” Pentagon spokesperson Sean Parnell said in a statement Tuesday evening.

The posture changes send a clear signal to Iran, the Houthis’ main backer and America’s top adversary in the region. President Donald Trump has repeatedly threatened Tehran in recent weeks to cut its support for the group or risk American retaliation.

“The choice for the Houthis is clear: Stop shooting at U.S. ships, and we will stop shooting at you. Otherwise, we have only just begun, and the real pain is yet to come, for both the Houthis and their sponsors in Iran,” Trump posted on his Truth Social app on Monday.

The Houthis have been one of the most resilient parts of Iran’s regional proxy network, badly damaged after attacks from Israel over the last year.

Shortly after Israel’s war in Gaza began in the fall of 2023, the group began targeting commercial ships transiting the Red Sea with missiles and aerial drones. The Houthis continued those attacks despite repeated American strikes and a U.S.-led coalition launched to protect global maritime trade, which eventually rerouted elsewhere.

Still, despite two weeks of renewed U.S. strikes on Houthi sites across Yemen — hitting over 100 command posts, stockpiles, launch sites and even leaders — the group has not backed down and commercial shipping companies have not returned to the Red Sea.

Editor’s note: After publication of this story, an Air Force official called to inform Defense News that the country previously said to be hosting the fighters was incorrect. The official shared the true location, which is left out due to its sensitivity. The story has been updated to reflect the information.

The U.S. Army identified Wednesday the fourth and final soldier found deceased in a peat bog at a training site in Lithuania.

Staff Sgt. Troy S. Knutson-Collins, 28, of Battle Creek, Michigan, was recovered from the bog Tuesday, one week after he and three other soldiers were reported missing while operating an M88A2 Hercules armored vehicle near Pabadre, Lithuania.

The other soldiers, found one day before Knutson-Collins, were identified Tuesday as Sgt. Jose Duenez, Jr., 25, of Joliet, Illinois; Sgt. Edvin F. Franco, 25, of Glendale, California; and Pfc. Dante D. Taitano, 21, of Dededo, Guam. All four soldiers were from 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division.

“It’s time to bring them all home,” the 3rd Infantry Division wrote on social media Wednesday.

“Although we are relieved to have found all our Dogface Soldiers, it does not make the pain of their loss any less,” said Maj. Gen. Christopher Norrie, 3rd Infantry Division commanding general.

At the time the soldiers were reported missing March 25, they had been conducting a maintenance mission with an M88A2 Hercules armored vehicle to recover another Army vehicle at a training area near Pabadre, Army officials previously said. The soldiers, permanently stationed at Fort Stewart, Georgia, were deployed to Lithuania as part of Operation Atlantic Resolve, which has been sending rotations into Europe since Russia invaded the Crimea region of Ukraine in 2014.

The family of Knutson-Collins, located in western Michigan, spoke to the WOOD-TV news station about him Sunday, before the Army publicly identified him as the final missing soldier. Knutson-Collins was the father of five children and enlisted in the Army in 2017 at the age of 20, his father, Robert Collins, told the television station.

Collins told WOOD-TV that he was initially reluctant to see his son enlist, but added, “He even grew more as a man and a man that I totally respect. He just turned out to be awesome.”

Duenez was an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer and had served more than seven years in the Army. He deployed to Poland in 2021 and Germany in 2022, and he was currently serving in the 5th Squadron, 7th Cavalry Regiment.

“Sgt. Jose Duenez will always hold a special place in our hearts. As both a leader and a soldier, he set an example every day — always the first to arrive and the last to leave, greeting every challenge with a smile and a readiness to support anyone who required assistance,” said Capt. Madyson K. Wellens, a commander in his squadron.

Franco was also an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer who had been in the Army for more than six years. He deployed to Korea in 2020 and Germany in 2022.

Wellens said Franco’s “infectious smile and genuine joy in being with his team were matched only by the tenacity and drive. He never asked more of his soldiers than he was willing to give himself — a true testament to his character.”

Taitano was also an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer. He had been in the Army for nearly two years, and this was his first deployment.

Cpt. Matthew Lund, another 5th Squadron commander, said, “Taitano will always be remembered as the spark of the team. He wore a smile on his face no matter the environment or task and constantly brought the team together with his charisma and laughter.”

After they were reported missing March 25, search teams found the soldiers’ vehicle 15 feet underwater the following day. What followed was an arduous, multiday effort to get to the vehicle, which continued to sink and be encased in mud as time went on.

The recovery team grew to hundreds of people from the U.S., Lithuania, Poland and Estonia, the Army said. The team included engineers, divers and recovery dogs and their handlers, among others.

There was a breakthrough in the recovery effort Sunday when the Navy dive crew — after multiple failed attempts — attached steel cables to two of the hoist points on the M88A2 Hercules. To get to the hoist points, divers maneuvered through layers of mud, clay and sediment, using a ground-penetrating radar provided by Lithuanian experts to find their way.

Two hours after the cables were attached, the vehicle was unearthed from the bog. At that point, Duenez, Franco and Taitano were recovered, while Knutson-Collins remained missing. He was found in the bog Tuesday after the search team brought in recovery dogs and their handlers, as well as two specialized drone systems, to find him.

“We are incredibly relieved that we were able to bring this recovery to an end and bring closure to all the families, friends and teammates of our soldiers,” said Maj. Gen. Curtis Taylor, commanding general of 1st Armored Division. “We cannot thank our Allies and fellow service members enough, especially the Lithuanians, who spared no resource in support of this mission. Together, we delivered on our promise to never leave a fallen comrade.”

An investigation into the incident is ongoing, the Army said.

Military Times Editor Beth Sullivan and The Associated Press contributed to this report.

As a comedian, you never forget the first time you bomb. For me, it wasn’t on stage.

I was in southern Afghanistan in May 2014 when a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device detonated near me while covering a routine patrol as a public affairs specialist.

It was something I had a dozen times before, but in a flash I was on my back, ears ringing, lungs full of dust.

I don’t remember the sound — just the silence that came after. That was the first time I learned what silence was — that unique brand that only occurs when your brain is trying to reboot and you’re unsure what may or may not be broken.

The blast knocked me out cold. When I came to, nothing was where it had been. The explosion left me with a traumatic brain injury and partial deafness in my right ear, with tinnitus that still rings to this day. I deal with memory loss, light sensitivity and sudden moments of confusion or panic that attack without warning.

I am fortunate to be alive. Not everyone who has gone through the same experience can say the same. That fact followed me home and into civilian life. It followed me into comedy.

After I was medically retired from the Army, I felt unmoored. I didn’t want to be thanked for my service. I wanted to feel something again — other than adrenaline and dread. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to make other people laugh.

So, I started writing, chasing the rhythm of a good joke like I used to chase good light for a photo while convincing people I was more than just a POG. (Writing that last sentence and saying it out loud, I realize that’s probably the best joke I will ever tell.)

My civilian work eventually took me to Chicago, where I enrolled at The Second City, a comedy institution where the entire curriculum is built around turning pain into timing, a place where you’re not only encouraged but expected to fail. But even with all that structure and guidance, and despite learning from the best and being repeatedly told I was capable and that my story mattered, it still wasn’t enough.

I was scared — terrified, actually. Not of the stage, but of being exposed, of being seen, of letting people in on what the war had done to me.

So, I took a break — a long one at that. I told myself I needed time to write, reset and work on new material. But the truth was more simple: I didn’t know who I was without the uniform, and I wasn’t sure if people would laugh at what was left.

For a long time, I convinced myself I hadn’t earned the right to be on stage. Like telling jokes meant I wasn’t honoring the people who didn’t come home. Or that getting a laugh somehow cheapened what had happened.

But here’s what I’ve learned as months went by: if I survived, I’m still allowed to speak. I’m allowed to create. I’m allowed to be more than what happened to me.

Two years ago, I got back on stage. There wasn’t some profound moment that caused me to do so. I just went out and did it, embracing the fear that had gripped me for so long. With the encouragement from friends and a refresher with the Armed Services Arts Partnership, I slowly started to find my comedic voice again.

Strangely enough, performing again reminded me of being on a mission. You rehearse. You plan. You step into a high-stakes environment where nothing is guaranteed. And then you execute.

The audience, like a patrol route, is unpredictable. You adjust. You move. You adapt. You get through it or you don’t — but you’re changed by it either way.

When I bomb now, I don’t panic, because — without sounding too cliche — I know what actual bombing is. I’ve felt the pressure change before an explosion. I’ve seen the color drain from the world. So, when a joke doesn’t land, I breathe. I wait. I reset. I’ll write something better next time.

What that VBIED taught me — besides basic blast physics — is that timing matters and silence isn’t always failure. Sometimes it’s the space before the punchline.

It also taught me people are always watching how you carry yourself when everything goes wrong. In combat, it’s about bearing. In comedy, it’s about confidence. My pace on stage is a reflection of that. It’s slower, calculated and rehearsed. You don’t have to pretend you’re invincible, but you do have to show the crowd you’re still in control — even when the wheels are coming off.

I used to think comedy and combat were opposites. The two could never co-exist. One is chaos, the other is craft. One is pain, the other is relief. But now I see them as siblings. Both rely on rhythm. Both require you to say the unspeakable out loud. And each demands you be fully present in moments where the stakes are high and the outcome is unknown.

This May will mark 11 years since I was blown up. And while the scars remain, so does the voice. The one that says, “You’re still here. Say something useful.”

Some nights that voice tells a joke about memory loss or PTSD. Other times it gets on stage and tries not to flinch at the light. And then during others it wonders how many people in the audience have their own hidden war stories.

But every night, that voice remembers that laughter is proof of life. And that after everything, I’m still standing.

Still up. Still writing. Still here.

By the time the First Army of the American Expeditionary Forces launched its first major offensive at St. Mihiel on Sept. 12, 1918, the world had been at war for nearly four years. With the success of St. Mihiel, Gen. John J. Pershing, commander of the AEF, set his sights on an even more ambitious advance: The Argonne Forest.

It was here, however, that the American “Doughboys” encountered their first serious opposition — the German Fifth Army.

During the grueling six-week campaign that ensued, the AEF was provided a degree of innovative air support that included the Army’s first home-manufactured airplane — albeit a license-built British design, the De Havilland DH-4. Reaching the front were only 198 of the aircraft, which had to be supplemented in American squadrons by French-built Salmson 2A2s.

Only four airmen were awarded the Medal of Honor during the First World War, with two aviators, 1st Lt. Harold E. Goettler and 2nd Lt. Erwin R. Bleckley, earning the honor during one of the most dramatic battles fought within the Argonne Campaign: that involving the “Lost Battalion.”

Harold Ernest Goettler was born in Chicago, Illinois on July 21, 1890. After the U.S. declared war in April 1917, he joined the Signal Enlisted Reserve Corps in July, but transferred in October to the USAS for flight training at the School of Military Aeronautics at the University of Illinois.

He graduated in January 1918 and in February he received his second lieutenant’s commission. After further training in the 28th Aero Squadron, he transferred in August to the 50th Aero Squadron, based at Amanty aerodrome, France.

Erwin Russell Bleckley was born in Wichita, Kansas on Dec. 30, 1894, and was working as a teller in the Fourth National Bank of Wichita when war broke out. On June 6, 1917 he enlisted in Battery F, 1st Field Artillery, Kansas National Guard and obtained his second lieutenant’s commission on July 5. This unit was activated and redesignated the 130th Field Artillery at Fort Sill, Oklahoma and attached to the 35th Division.

Having transferred to the 50th Aero Squadron on Aug. 14, 1918, Bleckley began flying missions as an observer pilot with Lt. Goettler at the outset of the St. Mihiel Offensive. It did not take long for the pair to be listed among the squadron’s most dedicated and reliable duos.

The Argonne offensive encountered difficulties from the start, but an exceptional crisis began on Oct. 3, when 554 soldiers, all from the 77th Infantry Division, found themselves cut off by a ravine alongside the Charlevaux road.

That mixed component of troops, under the overall command of Maj. Charles W. Whittlesey, became known as the “Lost Battalion,” despite the 77th not exactly being a battalion nor particularly lost.

Its plight, however, was quite real.

Surrounded by elements of the German 76th Reserve Division, the Doughboys were pinned down by adversaries they actually outnumbered, but who were intimately familiar with the terrain. The Germans controlled the high ground, with machine guns that turned every inch of the ravine into a killing zone.

On Oct. 4, two attempts by the 77th Division to break through to the trapped men were repulsed, resulting in more than 200 casualties. Meanwhile, the cut-off units, commanded by Whittlesey, lay isolated, out of communication with the AEF and were soon suffering from dwindling ammunition, food and water.

The following day, Capt. Daniel P. Morse, commander of the 50th Aero Squadron, got a telephone request from the 77th Division to airdrop supplies to Whittlesey’s command. Boxes of ammunition, food and medical supplies were rushed to the aerodrome wrapped in blankets, straw, rags and cardboard in an attempt to prevent items from breaking when they hit the ground.

Meanwhile, a DH-4 tried unsuccessfully to pinpoint the Americans’ location. When Lieutenants Floyd M. Pickrell and Alfred C. George tried again the next morning, they came under intense ground fire, but as they flew over the ravine they spotted khaki-dressed soldiers waving from their dugouts. George hastily threw out the supply bundles, while Pickrell marked the location on his map.

Later that morning, as a French division tried to link up with the “Lost Battalion,” only to be pushed back by German counterattacks, Morse ran an aerial shuttle service in an attempt to supply the besieged troops.

It was no easy task. Whittlesey’s men had laid out white panels for the aircraft, but he ordered them taken in because they drew enemy fire. The Germans also laid out marking panels, trying to trick the Americans into dropping the supplies to them — which happened all too often, as packages fell outside of the 1,800-square-yard area in which the “Lost Battalion” was pinned down.

Meanwhile, enemy ground fire intensified with each sortie. Two DH-4s were downed behind German lines on Oct. 6, but their crewmen, Lieutenants George R. Phillips, Mitchell H. Brown, Allen Tracy Bird and William A. Bolt, managed to make their way back to the Allied side.

First Lt. Maurice E. Graham landed with his observer, 2nd Lt. James E. McCurdy, seriously wounded in the neck. After several flights, DH-4 No. 2, flown by 1st Lt. Goettler and 2nd Lt. Bleckley, had to be retired for repairs.

With time for one more sortie before darkness fell, Goettler and Bleckley took to the skies, dropping several bundles into the Americans’ approximate area.

As Goettler came back around at almost treetop height to drop his last few parcels, he and Bleckley were both struck by ground fire, but he managed to reach Allied lines before crashing. There, French soldiers found Goettler dead in the cockpit. Bleckley died moments later, but not before he passed on information to give the Allied artillery more accurate coordinates on the American and German locations.

At dawn on Oct. 7, a reinforced 77th Division finally drove the Germans back and re-established contact with the “Lost Battalion” that evening. By then, only 194 of Maj. Whittlesey’s command were still standing.

In the first such operation to be performed by the AEF, the 50th Aero Squadron had airdropped more than 1,200 pounds of supplies in 18 hours. However, only a fraction of that reached its intended recipients, and the effort cost the squadron two men killed and one wounded.

The two airmen who sacrificed their lives in support of their comrades on the ground, Goettler and Bleckley, were both posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, with the both aviators’ citations reading that the men “showed the highest possible contempt of personal danger, devotion to duty, courage and valor.”

The U.S. Army on Tuesday identified three of the four U.S. soldiers who died during a training exercise in Lithuania last week.

Sgt. Jose Duenez, Jr., 25, of Joliet, Illinois; Sgt. Edvin F. Franco, 25, of Glendale, California; and Pfc. Dante D. Taitano, 21, of Dededo, Guam, all from 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division, were recovered Monday from a peat bog at a training site near Pabrade, Lithuania, the Army said.

“This loss is simply devastating,” said Maj. Gen. Christopher Norrie, 3rd Infantry Division commanding general, in a statement posted on the 3rd Infantry Division’s Facebook page. “These men were honored soldiers of the Marne Division. We are wrapping our arms around the families and loved ones of our soldiers during [this] incredibly difficult time.”

A fourth soldier was recovered earlier Tuesday. The Army has not released their name, pending confirmation of notification of next of kin.

At the time the soldiers were reported missing March 25, they had been conducting a maintenance mission with an M88A2 Hercules armored vehicle to recover another Army vehicle at a training area near Pabadre, Army officials previously said. The soldiers were deployed to Lithuania as part of Operation Atlantic Resolve, which has been sending rotations into Europe since Russia invaded the Crimea region of Ukraine in 2014.

The soldiers were permanently stationed at Fort Stewart, Georgia.

According to the 3rd Infantry Division, Duenez was an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer and had served more than seven years in the Army. He deployed to Poland in 2021 and Germany in 2022, and he was currently serving in the 5th Squadron, 7th Cavalry Regiment.

“Sgt. Jose Duenez will always hold a special place in our hearts. As both a leader and a soldier, he set an example every day — always the first to arrive and the last to leave, greeting every challenge with a smile and a readiness to support anyone who required assistance,” said Capt. Madyson K. Wellens, a commander in his squadron.

Franco was also an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer who had been in the Army for more than six years. He deployed to Korea in 2020 and Germany in 2022.

Wellens said Franco’s “infectious smile and genuine joy in being with his team were matched only by the tenacity and drive. He never asked more of his soldiers than he was willing to give himself — a true testament to his character.”

Taitano was also an M1 Abrams tank system maintainer. He had been in the Army for nearly two years, and this was his first deployment.

Cpt. Matthew Lund, another 5th Squadron commander, said, “Taitano will always be remembered as the spark of the team. He wore a smile on his face no matter the environment or task and constantly brought the team together with his charisma and laughter.”

The initial search for the soldiers included military helicopters, Lithuanian diving teams and hundreds of U.S. and Lithuanian soldiers and law enforcement officers looking through thick forests and swampy terrain. On March 26, search teams found the soldiers’ vehicle 15 feet underwater.

What followed was an arduous, multiday effort to get to the vehicle, which continued to sink and be encased in mud as time went on. Officials brought in engineers, tons of gravel, excavators and slurry pumps. The Polish Armed Forces volunteered a unit of 150 military engineers to help in the recovery. And over the weekend, a U.S. Navy dive crew from Commander, Task Force 68, headquartered in Rota, Spain, arrived on site.

There was a breakthrough in the recovery effort Sunday when the Navy dive crew — after multiple failed attempts — attached steel cables to two of the hoist points on the M88A2 Hercules, the Army said. To get to the hoist points, divers maneuvered through layers of mud, clay and sediment, using a ground-penetrating radar provided by Lithuanian experts to find their way.

Two hours after the cables were attached, the vehicle was unearthed from the bog. By that time, the recovery team grew to include hundreds of personnel from multiple services and countries, the Army said.

Recovery operations continued Monday after the crews recovered the bodies of three of the soldiers. Recovery dogs and their handlers flew in from Estonia on Monday to assist in the search for the fourth soldier. Crews also employed two specialized drone systems, including one equipped with ground-penetrating radar.

“We are incredibly relieved that we were able to bring this recovery to an end and bring closure to all the families, friends and teammates of our soldiers,” said Maj. Gen. Curtis Taylor, commanding general of 1st Armored Division. “We cannot thank our Allies and fellow service members enough, especially the Lithuanians, who spared no resource in support of this mission. Together, we delivered on our promise to never leave a fallen comrade.”

An investigation into the incident is ongoing, the Army said.

Military Times Senior Editor Nikki Wentling and The Associated Press contributed to this report.

The American landing on Guadalcanal on Aug. 7, 1942 and subsequent seizure of the airbase they would name Henderson Field marked the first American offensive in the wake of the Dec. 7, 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. What followed was six months of savage fighting on land and a succession of naval engagements that cost 48 total warships between U.S. and Japanese forces.

Among numerous naval heroes who emerged from both sides, Rear Adm. Norman Scott stood out for his role in two of the campaign’s most critical naval duels.

Born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on Aug. 10, 1889, Scott chose to leave his landlocked home for the sea and graduated from the United States Naval Academy in 1911. That same year saw the graduation of Daniel Judson Callaghan, born in San Francisco on July 26, 1890, whose destiny would converge with Scott’s some 31 years later.

Scott first found action during World War I as the executive officer of USS Jacob Jones, which, on the night of Dec. 6, 1916, was torpedoed by the German submarine U-53. The Jacob Jones holds the distinction of becoming the first American destroyer loss in history. Of 110 crewmen, 64 lost their lives. Scott was among just five officers who survived.

After a succession of sea and land assignments during the 1920s-30s, Scott took command of the heavy cruiser Pensacola until just after the attack on Pearl Harbor, when he served at the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. He was promoted to rear admiral in May 1942, and ordered to the Pacific in June.

By that August he commanded San Juan, a specialized anti-aircraft light cruiser with 16 five-inch guns in twin turrets and the latest SG (screen grid) radar, designed to accompany and defend aircraft carriers such as Hornet and Enterprise.

On the night of Aug. 9, a Japanese force of cruisers and destroyers under Vice Adm. Gunichi Mikawa surprised an Allied cruiser squadron off Savo Island, sinking USS Astoria, Quincy and Vincennes and His Majesty’s Australian Ship Canberra.

It left the Allies demoralized. Fortunately for them, Mikawa departed rather than take full advantage of his success.

In September, Scott was placed in command of Task Force 64, or “Task Force Sugar,” charged with patrolling the southern approaches between Rennell Island and Lunga Point. On Oct. 7, he took position and, keen to get revenge for Savo, trained his men hard for the next several days. Finally, on Oct. 11, aircraft reported Japanese reinforcements coming down the island chain the Allies called “The Slot,” as well as an escort of cruisers and destroyers.

Flying his pennant from heavy cruiser San Francisco, Scott led heavy cruiser Salt Lake City, light cruisers Boise and Helena and five destroyers around the western end of Cape Esperance to cover entry into Savo Sound.

At 2325 hours Helena made contact with the enemy, but that was 15 minutes later than it should have — although (or perhaps because) it had the latest SG radar, it was stationed at the rear of Scott’s column. One of San Francisco’s floatplanes confirmed that enemy warships were coming directly toward the Americans, putting Scott in the enviable position of “crossing the T,” bringing more guns to bear.

Approaching was one of the victors at Savo Island, Rear Adm. Aritomo Goto’s Sentai (cruiser division) 6, comprising heavy cruisers Aoba, Furutaka and Kinugasa, plus two destroyers. As he closed in, Scott ordered “Left to course, 230 degrees,” but while most of his ships performed the right turn perfectly, three of his destroyers made wider turns that placed them behind Scott’s column and within range of the Japanese.

Amid the uncertainty, at 2346 Helena reported its radar contact and asked to open fire. Scott replied “Roger,” meaning he’d received the message, but Helena’s skipper interpreted it as “open fire.” And fire he did — joined by guns on both sides.

Four American destroyers were caught between the opposing columns and one, Duncan, was demolished by heavy cruiser Kinugasa and destroyer Hatsuyuki as well as some American shells.

It sank the next day with 50 of its 195 crewmen, though destroyer McCalla rescued the rest. Damaged were Salt Lake City, Boise and destroyer Farenholt. The Japanese suffered worse, with heavy cruiser Furutaka and destroyer Fubuki sunk, flagship Aoba badly damaged and Adm. Goto mortally wounded.

Goto’s sacrifice accomplished his primary mission, however. Unnoticed by the Allies, the troop transport ships he was protecting reached Guadalcanal unmolested, but Scott’s tactical success over Goto directly avenged Savo and, as the first major American cruiser victory in the Pacific, did much to restore Allied confidence.

There were, however, more sea battles to come.

On the night of Oct. 13, the Japanese battleships Kongo and Haruna pummeled Henderson Field, followed by a night bombardment by Chokai and Kinugasa on the 14th and another by heavy cruisers Myoko and Maya the following day. This was followed by a carrier confrontation off the Santa Cruz Islands on Oct. 26, in which the Americans lost the USS Hornet, but the Japanese again failed to follow through.

While Japan repaired or re-equipped their four carriers and the Americans hastily fixed up Enterprise, the Japanese gathered what they had left for the next bombardment: battleships Hiei and Kirishima, light cruiser Nagara and 14 destroyers, commanded by Rear Admiral Hiroaki Abe.

As this formidable fleet approached on the night of Nov. 12, three American cargo ships were en route to Guadalcanal, escorted by Scott aboard the anti-aircraft cruiser Atlanta alongside five destroyers.

Upon reaching their objective, Scott and his warships were ordered to join Task Group 67, led by Rear Adm. Daniel J. Callaghan from aboard his “hometown” flagship, San Francisco, with heavy cruiser Portland, light cruiser Helena and anti-aircraft cruiser Juneau, along with another three destroyers.

As they entered the combat zone the Americans took up a column like the one used so successfully at Cape Esperance, but also — once again — holding their three cruisers and two destroyers with SG radar at the rear. The Japanese battleships, on the other hand, had no radar at all. Add a rain squall to obscure both sides’ vision and their vanguards passed one another just after midnight on the ominous date of Friday the 13.

At 0124 Helena made first contact, but defective radar resulted in excessive reliance on talk between ships (TBS) until 0141, when destroyer Cushing made out enemy destroyers Yudachi and Harusame silhouetted in the starlight 3,000 yards away and turned left to bring its torpedoes into play.

Atlanta, next in line, also turned hard left. As his formation began falling apart, Adm. Callaghan signaled on the TBS, “What are you doing?”

“Avoiding our own destroyers,” Atlanta’s Capt. Samuel P. Jenkins reportedly responded.

With mounting confusion on both sides, at 0145 Callaghan signaled “Stand by to open fire!”

At 0150, however, a searchlight from Hiei pierced the darkness and fell on Atlanta, 5,000 meters away. Scott, true to form, ordered a full broadside, but all 12 of his shells fell 2,000 meters short. Thirty seconds later Hiei’s eight 14-inch guns, devastated Atlanta in one of the war’s most accurate salvos, killing Scott and all senior officers on the bridge save for a wounded Capt. Jenkins.

Although Atlanta was out of the fight, Hiei paid for its searchlight as destroyers Cushing, Laffey, Sterett and O’Bannon, finding themselves anywhere from 2,000 to a few hundred meters away, engaged the battleship in a desperate point blank duel to the death.

The Japanese destroyers were also embroiled in the fight, including Amatsukaze, which scored two torpedo hits on destroyer Barton that sank it with 90 percent of its crew.

Noticing Yudachi under fire from Juneau, Amatsukaze fired more torpedoes that drove the cruiser off with a broken back. Cushing attacked Hiei but was sunk by a broadside from destroyer Terutsuki.

Destroyer Laffey almost collided with Hiei, then raked its mast and bridge, killing Abe’s chief of staff, Capt. Masakane Suzuki, and wounding several officers, including Hiei’s Capt. Masao Nishida and Abe himself. Laffey was in turn hit by Hiei’s guns and sunk by a torpedo from Terutsuki. Sterett was badly damaged but managed to fight its way clear, while the “Lucky O” O’Bannon escaped serious destruction from the battleship.

At 0200 hours Abe called for a retirement, but Hiei was dead in the water after some 50 hits on its superstructure and having its internal communications knocked out. In contrast, Kirishima was grazed by a single eight-inch shell.

“We want the big ones,” Callaghan ordered, but some of San Francisco’s shells fell on Atlanta and Callaghan. Adding to the confusion was the general order: “Cease firing own ships.”

Destroyer Akatsuki also scored torpedo hits on Atlanta, but was then caught between San Francisco, Portland and a destroyer whose combined fire sank it; the Americans later rescued 18 of its survivors.

Portland also fired at Inazuma and Ikazachi, but a torpedo from Yudachi jammed its rudder. Yudachi was in turn hit in the stern, probably by Aaron Ward, and ground to a halt.

Amatsukaze’s luck ran out when it was hit by Helena, retiring with 43 of its crew dead. Destroyer Monssen was sunk by Asagumo. San Francisco was also struck by Hiei and Kirishima, including a bridge hit that killed Callaghan, Capt. Cassin Young and other officers.

The next day revealed a grim tableau, but the carnage wasn’t over. San Francisco was still afloat and retiring with Juneau when a spread of torpedoes from Japanese submarine I-26 came at them, missing San Francisco but blowing up Juneau, leaving only 10 survivors of its 700-man crew, which included the five Sullivan brothers. Portland, still circling, came within range of the abandoned Yudachi and finished it off with a broadside.

To demonstrate the strategic outcome of the battle, however, Marine aircraft from a still-operational Henderson Field swarmed over Hiei, compelling Abe and surviving crewmen to relocate to the destroyer Yukikaze, leaving behind the first Japanese battleship loss since 1904. Ahead lay a second naval battle of Guadalcanal, which would seal the island’s ultimate fate and place the initiative in the Pacific in American hands for the duration.

Vice Adm. Abe and Captain Nishida were both subsequently “retired” from the navy for their lack of aggressiveness. Norman Scott and Daniel Callaghan were both posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.

The final U.S. soldier reported missing at a Lithuanian training site last week has been found deceased, the Army announced Tuesday.

The soldier was the last of four U.S. soldiers of the 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division, to be recovered after they went missing in the early morning hours of March 25 while operating an M88A2 Hercules armored vehicle near Pabadre, Lithuania.

The bodies of the three other soldiers were recovered Monday after recovery crews pulled the vehicle from a peat bog near the training site.

Recovery of missing soldiers underway at training site in Lithuania

“This past week has been devastating. Today our hearts bear the weight of an unbearable pain with the loss of our final Dogface Soldier,” said Maj. Gen. Christopher Norrie, 3rd Infantry Division commanding general, in a statement Tuesday. “Though we have received some closure, the world is darker without them.”

The Army has not released the soldiers’ names, pending confirmation of notification of next of kin.

At the time the soldiers were reported missing, they had been conducting a maintenance mission to recover another Army vehicle at a training area near Pabadre, U.S. Army Europe and Africa said in a release. The soldiers were deployed to Lithuania as part of Operation Atlantic Resolve, which has been sending rotations into Europe since Russia invaded the Crimea region of Ukraine in 2014.

The soldiers were permanently stationed at Fort Stewart, Georgia.

The initial search for the soldiers included military helicopters, Lithuanian diving teams and hundreds of U.S. and Lithuanian soldiers and law enforcement officers looking through thick forests and swampy terrain. On March 26, search teams found the soldiers’ vehicle 15 feet underwater.

What followed was an arduous, multiday effort to get to the vehicle, which continued to sink and be encased in mud as time went on. Officials brought in engineers, tons of gravel, excavators and slurry pumps. The Polish Armed Forces volunteered a unit of 150 military engineers to help in the recovery. And over the weekend, a U.S. Navy dive crew from Commander, Task Force 68, headquartered in Rota, Spain, arrived on site.

There was a breakthrough in the recovery effort Sunday when the Navy dive crew — after multiple failed attempts — attached steel cables to two of the hoist points on the M88A2 Hercules, the Army said. To get to the hoist points, divers maneuvered through layers of mud, clay and sediment, using a ground-penetrating radar provided by Lithuanian experts to find their way.

Two hours after the cables were attached, the vehicle was unearthed from the bog. By that time, the recovery team grew to include hundreds of personnel from multiple services and countries, the Army said.

Recovery operations continued Monday after the crews recovered the bodies of three of the soldiers. Recovery dogs and their handlers flew in from Estonia on Monday to assist in the search for the fourth soldier. Crews also employed two specialized drone systems, including one equipped with ground-penetrating radar.

“We are incredibly relieved that we were able to bring this recovery to an end and bring closure to all the families, friends and teammates of our soldiers,” said Maj. Gen. Curtis Taylor, commanding general of 1st Armored Division. “We cannot thank our Allies and fellow service members enough, especially the Lithuanians, who spared no resource in support of this mission. Together, we delivered on our promise to never leave a fallen comrade.”

An investigation into the incident is ongoing, the Army said.

Military Times Senior Editor Nikki Wentling contributed to this report.

You may have seen the ads on Instagram or watched the video spots on YouTube. Noom, a paid weight-loss app that has earned plaudits for getting results in its users, is hot. And it’s now available for free to sailors who failed the service’s Body Composition Assessment standards last year.

As of Feb. 1, the Navy is offering the commercial version of Noom free for a year to these sailors in what the service calls its Fitness Enhancement Program. The Navy’s contract with Noom, which is considered a one-year pilot program, is worth $466,560, paid for by excess funds released by Congress last fiscal year for quality of service initiatives.

“The Navy is paying a discounted rate from commercial individual usage costs; and the service is available at no cost to eligible sailors,” Lt. Kathryn Cole, a Navy spokeswoman, told Military Times.

To register and receive the services, which include a personalized diet plan, weekly challenges, a virtual coaching team through the app, an AI-based food tracker that can calculate calories based on a photo of a meal, and even a 360-degree body scan completed with the user’s phone camera, sailors just need to send their first and last names and government ID number to a Noom-hosted registration link.

A subscription to these features on the app retails for $70 per month or $209 per year. Of note, the Navy’s Noom deal does not cover its newest and most heavily promoted offering, a subscription-based GLP-1 medication to be taken while using the app’s other tools.

“The pilot does not endorse — or cover the costs — of GLP-1 or other anti-obesity medications,” officials said in an info paper about the Noom partnership.

Neither the Navy nor Noom officials had releasable enrollment figures as of March, citing the newness of the program.

“We’re starting to see enrollments come in more and more each day,” Cody Fair, Noom’s chief commercial officer, said in an interview. The message notifying those eligible for the program, he said, had gone out to about 8,000 sailors — a figure the service also confirmed.

According to Navy data, nearly 25,000 sailors, most of them from the junior enlisted ranks, were in a weight management program as of the end of 2024.

The Navy’s Cultural and Force Resilience Office was tasked in March 2024 “to identify, pilot, and assess scaling opportunities to test additional resources to support sailor readiness,” Cole said in responses provided to Military Times.

Noom, she added, met a “strenuous list of capability requirements” that included psychologically based behavior change components, effectiveness shown through peer review, scalability and user data privacy.

Historically, the Navy has at times held the dubious distinction as the most overweight military service. A scientific study published last year found nearly 46% of sailors were overweight and 29% were obese following the COVID-19 pandemic. For comparison, in the same time period 55.8% of Marines were classified as overweight and 12.6% as obese.

While the Navy hasn’t administratively separated any sailors for failing body composition standards since 2017, pending the results of a new study on best assessment methods due later this year, leaders have recently made investments to boost sailor fitness, particularly at the entry level.

In 2023, the service kicked off the Future Sailor Preparatory Course, aimed at improving the fitness and body composition of prospective recruits to bring them within standards for enlistment.

Fair, the Noom executive, said the app and associated programming work because they target unhealthy brain pathways and seek to rewire them, rather than just focusing on promoting healthy actions.

“We start with the mind, and we use cognitive behavioral therapy and other evidence-based protocols to really uncover the root cause of the behavior, and that ultimately creates ‘aha’ moments for the sailors that reshape their habits for good,” he said.

Noom, Fair said, sees particularly strong user engagement, with 50% of all monthly active users logging in on a daily basis. That consistency, which he associated with the “aha moment” of cracking the code on unhelpful behaviors and how to change them, is important to the effectiveness of the program.

The Navy, Cole said, will be tracking the effectiveness of the pilot, which runs through Jan. 31, 2026, based on sailor participation, participant feedback and cost effectiveness.

“Objective data will also be used to determine if the pilot program was successful in increasing the amount of sailors who are within [body composition assessment] standards compared to previous years,” she said.

Fair said Noom will also be tracking how many sailors opt in to the program and how they use it. While the Navy is the company’s first military partnership, he said another service branch reached out to the company in March to discuss a similar deal.

“We’re just starting a conversation there, but certainly … we hope to show success with the Navy and have the ability to branch out to other services within the military,” he said.

World War II was marked by numerous technical advances and battles in which they played a pivotal role. Relatively overlooked but having an importance of its own was the destroyer as used in the Solomons campaigns of 1942 to 1943.

The naval struggle was generally fought at night, pitting Japanese destroyers ferrying reinforcements to contested islands or evacuating forces from untenable posts, versus American counterparts trying to intercept them.

Nicknamed the “Tokyo Express” by their opponents, the Japanese “tin cans” acquired the grudging respect of the Americans for their daring and ingenuity, their deadly 24-inch Type 93 “Long Lance” torpedoes and what seemed to be an uncanny Japanese talent for operating by night.

In 1943, however, American destroyers began receiving a new, more effective centimetric screen grid radio detection and ranging, or SG radar, along with a new generation of captains adjusting their tactics to take advantage of the new developments.

In the vanguard of those adopting the new weapons systems to challenge the Tokyo Express anew was Cmdr. Frederick Moosbrugger.

Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on Oct. 9, 1900, Moosbrugger entered the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, on June 25, 1919, graduating on June 8, 1923. His subsequent assignments included two three-year stints as an instructor at the academy and service aboard the heavy cruiser Houston starting June 1, 1934, with then-President Franklin D. Roosevelt as a passenger and attending the opening of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco on May 28, 1937. On April 28, 1941, he got command of his first ship, the destroyer McCall.

McCall was escorting the aircraft carrier Enterprise toward Wake Island on Dec. 7, 1941, when word came in of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The small carrier task force did not return to Pearl until the 8th, but it was back at sea on the 10th, in time for Enterprise’s aircraft to catch the Japanese submarine I-70 still snooping in the area and summarily sink it.

Between May 1942 and September 1943, Moosbrugger led destroyers in the Solomon Islands. In early August 1943 he led Destroyer Division 12 (DesDiv 12) aboard Dunlap, whose captain was Lt. Cmdr. Clifton Iverson, along with destroyers Craven and Maury.

Munda had been the latest objective, and the last previous attempt to derail the Express using patrol torpedo (PT) boats on the night of August 1-2 had failed — the only result being PT-109 rammed and sunk by destroyer Amagiri, although its skipper, Lt. John Fitzgerald Kennedy, survived to later become president.

Munda fell into Allied hands on Aug. 5, but word came in about another Express departing Port Vila for Kolombangara Island, and this time the job of interception was handed to Moosbrugger. He was reinforced with three more ships of Destroyer Division 15 (DesDiv 15), led by Cmdr. Rodger Whitten Simpson aboard the destroyer Lang (Cmdr. John Lester Wilfong as captain), with destroyers Sterett and Stack.

For the first time in the war, U.S. Navy destroyers were not escorting cruisers, giving them independence to work out their own tactics. Moosbrugger’s were to enter Vella Gulf with DesDiv 12 in column to the left of the formation and DesDiv 15 two miles to the right and a little farther behind. If they spotted enemy destroyers, DesDiv 12, which had long been zealously training at night fighting, would fire torpedoes while DesDiv 15, whose ships had new 40 mm anti-aircraft gun batteries, would follow up with gunfire.

At 1130 hours the force departed Tulagi and when it reached Kula Gulf, Moosbrugger ordered all ships into battle formation. Reaching and probing Blackett Strait, it headed due north following Kolombangara’s coast, on a rainy night that would have handicapped both sides if not for the Americans’ radar advantage.

Shortly before midnight, Dunlap’s radar made first contact with the enemy 10 miles away, which soon materialized into four “pips” on the screen. As Moosbrugger’s torpedo crews readied their weapons, he deactivated his unreliable magnetic exploder devices, while relying on the flash hiders of his improved “fish.” Moosbrugger got on the talk-between-ships system and ordered his division to “Stand by to fire torpedoes!”

Approaching from the north was Japanese Destroyer Division 4 (DesDiv 4) comprised of Hagikaze — flying the pennant of Capt. Kaju Sugiru — Kawakaze and Arashi, trailed by Shigure. The latter, under Cmdr. Tameichi Hara, was a relatively old ship and had been falling behind the formation. Its navigation officer, Lt. Yoshio Tsukihara, asked Hara, as the commander later recalled in his book “Japanese Destroyer Captain”: “Sir, we are lagging 1,000 meters behind Kawakaze. Shall we use the overboost to gain back our lost 500 meters?”

“No,” the veteran Hara replied. “This is good enough. To hell with the described 500-meter distance. Don’t overboost the engine!” Suspecting trouble, Hara ordered Shigure ready for action with guns and torpedoes trained left, where visibility was worst. Just then a lookout cried out: “White waves! Black objects! … Several ships heading toward us!”

At 4,000 yards distance, Moosbrugger ordered his DesDiv 12 ships to fire and 24 torpedoes — eight per ship — were loosed in 63 seconds. Two hit Hagikaze, knocking out its radio and throwing the column into confusion. Three torpedoes struck Arashi and two more hit Kawakaze, after which Moosbrugger pulled back to let Simpson’s destroyers finish the targets with gunfire.

Firing ceased as all three Japanese destroyers went down, along with 356 seamen and 685 troops. Behind them, Shigure dodged to the right, letting lose eight torpedoes, but hitting nothing.

In contrast, three or four American torpedoes bore on Shigure and put a two-by-two-foot hole in its rudder. It failed to explode, but it and the soldiers on board handicapped its further usefulness, so Hara made smoke and withdrew, requesting further instructions from headquarters at Rabaul.

“Return to base,” came the reply. “Ask Kolombangara to rescue survivors.”

Remarkably, 310 Japanese troops, including Capt. Sugiura, drifted to shore on Vella Lavella, from which they were transferred to Kolombangara. Henceforth, however, there would be no more Tokyo Express troop runs to that island.

Of the 24 torpedoes Moosbrugger’s destroyers launched, one-third had struck their targets.

“The hits on Arashi and Kawakaze were phenomenal,” Hara wrote after the war in what he called “a perfect American victory.”

“Never before had I seen such marksmanship by the enemy,” he continued.

The U.S. Navy agreed. On Sept. 10, 1943, Adm. William Frederick Halsey awarded Moosbrugger the Navy Cross, which was also presented to Dunlap’s Lt. Cmdr. Iverson and Sterett’s Lt. Cmdr. Frank Gardner Gould. Adm. Chester William Nimitz, commander in chief of U.S. Pacific Fleet, dubbed the Vella Gulf battle “a little classic of naval warfare.”

Moosbrugger also got congratulations from an Annapolis classmate, Lt. Cmdr. Arleigh Albert Burke: “Dear Moose, your battle the other night will go down in history as one of the most successful actions ever fought. It was splendidly conceived and marvelously executed.” Burke was more than just inspired by the precedent it set. On the night of Nov. 25, 1943, he led his own squadron in an equally successful ambush off Cape St. George that sank another three out of five Japanese destroyers engaged.

Moosbrugger fought no comparable action again, but rose steadily in his career, reaching the rank of captain at the U.S. Naval School, General Line, Naval Base at Newport, Rhode Island, on April 5, 1946. He made rear admiral on June 1, 1951, and in 1952 he served as commander of the Military Sea Transportation Service, Pacific Area, based at San Francisco, California. He retired as a vice admiral on Oct. 1, 1956. Besides the Navy Cross, he received the Distinguished Service Medal and the Legion of Merit with “Valor” device.

Moosbrugger died at the San Diego Naval Hospital on Oct. 1, 1974. He was buried alongside his wife, Dorothy (Britt), at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, San Diego, leaving behind three sons, Frederick Britt, Edward Arthur and David Britt. His name was given to destroyer DD-980.

President Donald Trump has pardoned a Virginia man whose sentence already was commuted for his convictions stemming from the Jan. 6, 2021, riot at the U.S. Capitol.

Thomas Caldwell, a retired Navy intelligence officer, was tried alongside Oath Keepers founder Stewart Rhodes but acquitted of seditious conspiracy — the most serious charge brought in the Jan. 6 attack.

Caldwell’s pardon is dated March 20. Defense attorney David Fischer said he informed Caldwell of the pardon on Monday after learning about it from news reports.

“And he’s elated,” Fischer added.

Convicted veterans among Jan. 6 rioters granted pardons, commutations

A jury convicted Caldwell of obstructing Congress and of obstructing justice for tampering with documents after the riot. One of those convictions was dismissed in light of a U.S. Supreme Court ruling last year.

On Jan. 10, U.S. District Judge Amit Mehta sentenced Caldwell to time served with no supervised release. Prosecutors had recommended four years in prison for Caldwell.

Ten days later, on his first day back in the White House, Trump issued a sweeping grant of clemency to all 1,500-plus people charged in the Capitol riot. Trump commuted the sentences of several defendants who were leaders and members of the Oath Keepers or Proud Boys extremist groups.

More than a dozen defendants were convicted of seditious conspiracy for what prosecutors said were violent plots to keep Trump in power.

Prosecutors had alleged at trial that Caldwell helped coordinate “quick reaction force” teams prosecutors said the Oath Keepers stationed outside the capital city to get weapons into the hands of extremists if they were needed. The weapons were never deployed, and lawyers for the Oath Keepers said they were only there for defensive purposes in case of attacks from left-wing activists.

But Caldwell, who didn’t enter the Capitol, took the witness stand and down played messages he sent leading up to Jan. 6, including one floating the idea about getting a boat to ferry “heavy weapons” across the Potomac River. Caldwell said he was never serious about it, calling it “creative writing.”

Fischer said his client was “first among equals for a pardon.”

“When a progressive D.C. jury acquits him of most of the charges and an Obama-appointed judge sentences him to basically time served and a fine, I think it’s safe to say the government got it wrong,” the attorney said.

Associated Press writer Alanna Durkin Richer contributed to this report.

Since the North Korean invasion of the South on June 25, 1950, United Nations forces had managed to reverse the situation by September, retaking the capital of Seoul and driving a routed Korean People’s Army (KPA) back into its home territory.

The newly established communist China, however, could not tolerate a united pro-Western Korea on its Manchurian border, and in late October, the so-called People’s Volunteer Army (PVA) intervened in the conflict, crossing the Yalu River into Korea.

By mid-November the PVA had thrown the U.N. forces back, retaking Seoul and giving the North Koreans a chance to regroup. In February 1951, however, the Chinese supply lines were overextended and recovering U.N. forces brought their offensive to a halt in the Battle of Chipyong-ni on Feb. 13-14 and Operation Killer nearly a week later.

On March 7, the U.N. launched another offensive, dubbed Operation Ripper, conceived by Gen. Matthew Ridgway to flank Seoul and destroy the PVA and KPA.

Ridgway achieved the first objective, with his troops advancing an average of 30 miles of frontage, flanking Seoul and encountering virtually no opposition as the South Korean capital changed hands for the fourth — and last — time on March 15.

By the declared conclusion of the offensive on March 23, the communist armies suffered thousands of casualties, but a well-executed fighting retreat kept them intact for the fighting yet to come — which for the next two years would see even greater casualties but no decisive battles on either side.

It was at the very beginning of Operation Ripper that Sfc. Nelson Brittin experienced the sort of savage hill fighting that became the norm for the rest of the Korean War.

Nelson Vogel Brittin was born in Audubon, New Jersey, on Oct. 31, 1920, and was drafted into the U.S. Army on July 7, 1942. Brittin served in Italy during World War II and discharged in 1946. He briefly attending the University of Florence, Italy, before deciding to reenlist in 1948, serving in the occupation forces in Japan.

He had risen in rank to sergeant first class when he was shipped to the Republic of Korea with I Company, 3rd Battalion, 19th Regiment, 24th Infantry Division. He was wounded in December 1950 and February 1951, but had returned to his unit in time for Operation Ripper.

On March 7, 1951, U.N. forces on either side of Seoul crossed the Han River, encountering small, often stubborn pockets of Chinese resistance whose sole purpose proved to be slowing down the U.N. offensive while the bulk of their armies withdrew northward to more defensible ground.

Near Yonggong-Ni that day, I Company crossed the Han and encountered a pocket of resistance in the form of fortified machine gun positions on a hill.

Brittin volunteered to lead a squad to secure the hill and due to the meager cover it afforded, he ordered his men to cover him while he moved up alone. He threw a grenade at the first enemy position he engaged, but the enemy returned it in kind with a grenade of their own, which knocked him down and wounded him.

Refusing medical attention, Brittin replenished his grenade supply, which he hurled at several enemy positions until their occupants abandoned them and he shot them as they fled. As he approached one defensive position, Brittin’s rifle jammed, but without hesitation he leaped into the hole and killed all its occupants using his bayonet and his rifle butt.

At that point, Brittin noticed one of his squads pinned down by an enemy machine gun, so he rushed it from behind, threw a grenade into it, then ran around to the front to kill the emerging three-man crew with his rifle.

As they resumed their climb, Brittin and his squad had not advanced 100 yards before coming under fire with what his citation described as a “camouflaged, sandbagged machine gun nest well-flanked by supporting riflemen.”

As his citation continued, “Brittin again charged this new position in an aggressive endeavor to silence this remaining obstacle and ran directly into a burst of automatic fire which killed him instantly. In his sustained and driving action, he had killed 20 enemy soldiers and destroyed four automatic weapons, the conspicuous valor, and noble self-sacrifice displayed by Sfc. Brittin enabled his inspired company to attain its objective.”

Brittin’s body was returned home in November 1951 and buried at Beverly National Cemetery in Beverly, New Jersey. On Jan. 16, 1952, his parents received a posthumously awarded Medal of Honor from then-Defense Secretary Robert Lovett. The roll on/roll off Military Sealift Command cargo ship ESB-4, built in 2002, is named Nelson V. Brittin in his honor.

Three of the four U.S. soldiers who were reported missing at a Lithuanian training site last week were found deceased, Secretary of the Army Daniel Driscoll said Monday.

The Army did not immediately release the names of the three soldiers, who were all part of the 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division. The fourth soldier remains missing.

“We will not rest until the fourth and final soldier is found and brought home,” Driscoll said in a statement. “No words can truly capture the pain of this loss, but my deepest condolences go out to the families, friends, and fellow soldiers mourning their heroes.”

The confirmation came after recovery teams pulled from a Lithuanian peat bog Sunday night the M88A2 Hercules armored vehicle the soldiers were operating when they were reported missing March 25. The Lithuanian Defense Ministry announced on social media Sunday that both Lithuanian military police and U.S. investigators were working the site after the vehicle was dislodged.

At the time the soldiers were reported missing, they had been conducting a maintenance mission to recover another Army vehicle at a training area near Pabadre, Lithuania, U.S. Army Europe and Africa said in a release. The soldiers were deployed to Lithuania as part of Operation Atlantic Resolve, which has been sending rotations into Europe since Russia invaded the Crimea region of Ukraine in 2014.

The soldiers were permanently stationed at Fort Stewart, Georgia.

“The Raider family is heartbroken over the tragic loss of our soldiers,” Col. Jim Armstrong, commander of 1st Armored Brigade Combat Team, 3rd Infantry Division, said in a statement. “We are ensuring we provide the needed support to their families and our soldiers as we go through this grieving process.”

The initial search for the soldiers included military helicopters, Lithuanian diving teams and hundreds of U.S. and Lithuanian soldiers and law enforcement officers looking through thick forests and swampy terrain. On March 26, search teams found the soldiers’ vehicle 15 feet underwater.

What followed was an arduous, multiday effort to get to the vehicle, which continued to sink and be encased in mud as time went on. Officials brought in engineers, tons of gravel, excavators and slurry pumps. The Polish Armed Forces volunteered a unit of 150 military engineers to help in the recovery. And over the weekend, a U.S. Navy dive crew from Commander, Task Force 68, headquartered in Rota, Spain, arrived on site.

There was a breakthrough in the recovery effort Sunday when the Navy dive crew — after multiple failed attempts — attached steel cables to two of the hoist points on the M88A2 Hercules, the Army said. To get to the hoist points, divers maneuvered through layers of mud, clay and sediment, using a ground-penetrating radar provided by Lithuanian experts to find their way.

Two hours after the cables were attached, the vehicle was unearthed from the bog. By that time, the recovery team grew to include hundreds of personnel from multiple services and countries, the Army said.

Earlier on Sunday, a mass was held at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Stanislaus and St. Ladislaus in the Lithuanian capital of Vilnius to pray for the soldiers, their families and the recovery teams. American and German soldiers deployed to Lithuania attended the mass, as did U.S. and NATO military leaders, the Lithuanian minister of defense, the commander of the Lithuanian Armed Forces and the U.S. ambassador to Lithuania.

“We cannot thank our allies enough for everything they’ve done for us to help find our soldiers,” Armstrong said. “They see our soldiers as their own soldiers, and we are absolutely in this together.”

Recovery personnel remained on site Monday, searching for the fourth soldier. The Army, as well as Lithuanian authorities, are investigating the cause of the incident.

ANNAPOLIS, Md. — The U.S. Naval Academy will no longer consider race, ethnicity or sex as a factor for admission to the service institution, a response to an executive order by President Donald Trump, according to federal court documents made public Friday.

The change in policy was made in February by Vice Adm. Yvette Davids, the academy’s superintendent, in response to an executive order issued by President Donald Trump in January, according to a court filing by the U.S. Justice Department in the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals.

The president’s order on Jan. 27 said that “every element of the Armed Forces should operate free from any preference based on race or sex.” It also directed the secretary of defense to conduct an internal review with respect to all “activities designed to promote a race- or sex-based preferences system,” including reviews at the service academies.

“Under revised internal guidance issued by the Superintendent on Feb. 14, 2025, neither race, ethnicity, nor sex can be considered as a factor for admission at any point during the admissions process, including qualification and acceptance,” according to the court filing made public Friday.

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The decision comes after a federal judge ruled in December that the academy could continue considering race in its admissions process. In that case, the judge found that military cohesion and other national security factors mean the school should not be subjected to the same standards as civilian universities.

During a two-week bench trial in September, attorneys for the academy argued that prioritizing diversity in the military makes it stronger, more effective and more widely respected.

The case against the policy was brought by the group Students for Fair Admissions, which was appealing the judge’s decision.

The Justice Department asked in the filing on Friday to suspend the current briefing schedule in the case while the parties consider the change in the academy’s policy.

“The parties require a reasonable amount of time to discuss the details of the Academy’s new policy and to consider the appropriate next steps for this litigation, including whether this litigation is now moot and, if so, whether the district court judgment should be vacated,” the Justice Department wrote.

Maryland Rep. Sarah Elfreth, a Democrat who serves on the academy’s Board of Visitors, criticized the change, saying “this disastrous decision will have negative implications on our military’s recruitment and retention for decades to come.”

“A Navy and Marine Corps that reflect the diversity of our country is our strongest Navy and Marine Corps,” Elfreth said. “Diversity and inclusion allow our academies to not just reflect how our country looks but are critical to mission readiness and strong national security.”

Students for Fair Admissions also brought the lawsuit challenging affirmative action that resulted in a landmark U.S. Supreme Court ruling in 2023.

The high court’s conservative majority broadly prohibited the consideration of race and ethnicity in college admissions, ending a long-standing practice meant to boost opportunities for historically marginalized groups and sending shock waves through higher education. But it carved out a potential exemption for military academies, suggesting that national security interests could affect the legal analysis.

Students for Fair Admissions later sued the Annapolis-based Naval Academy, challenging the exemption. But Judge Richard Bennett rejected their arguments, saying that the school had “established a compelling national security interest in a diverse officer corps.”

Attorneys for the group argued during trial that prioritizing minority candidates is unfair to qualified white applicants and that cohesion should arise from other sources such as training and command structure.

The academy argued in that case that its admissions process considers many factors, including grades, extracurricular activities, life experience and socioeconomic status, according to court testimony. Race often played no role in the process, but sometimes it came under consideration in a “limited fashion,” attorneys for the academy wrote in court papers.

Sgt. Joe Harris, believed to be the oldest surviving World War II paratrooper and a member of the U.S. Army’s first all-Black parachute infantry battalion, has died. He was 108.

Harris died March 15 in a hospital in Los Angeles surrounded by family, grandson Ashton Pittman told The Associated Press. He will be honored with a full military funeral on April 5.

“He was a very loving, loving, loving man,” said Pittman. “That was one of the things that he was very strict upon was loving one another.”

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Harris was among the last surviving members of the historic 555th Parachute Infantry Battalion, nicknamed the Triple Nickles. The battalion helped protect the U.S. from deadly Japanese balloon bombs, according to Robert L. Bartlett, a retired Eastern Washington University professor who specializes in the 555th. In 1944 and 1945, the Japanese launched thousands of balloons to be carried by the Pacific jet stream to the U.S. mainland to explode and start fires.

During World War II, Black Americans were often relegated to more support-level jobs in the racially segregated military and President Franklin Roosevelt faced pressure to put them in combat units. As a result, the military recruited Harris and hundreds of other Black men, trained them and sent them into blazes on the West Coast, where they fought fires, Bartlett said.

Throughout their time in the military, they faced overt racism, including being barred from going to the base commissary and officer’s clubs unless they were specifically for Black people.

“This unit had to fight to be recognized as human beings while training to fight an enemy overseas, fight in their own country for respect even within the military,” Bartlett said.

That was not lost on Pittman, who said his grandfather was brave enough to serve the U.S. “during a time when the country didn’t love him, honestly, didn’t care about him.”

Harris was born on June 19, 1916, in West Dale, Louisiana, according to Tracie Hunter, spokesperson for WWII Beyond The Call, a nonprofit organization that works to document veterans’ accounts. After filling out his draft registration card, he began his military service in 1941 when he was 24.

By the time he was honorably discharged in November 1945, he had completed 72 parachute jumps, according to Hunter.

After the war, he worked for the U.S. Border Patrol. He also spent more than 60 years in Compton, California, where Pittman said he was the neighborhood patriarch, a man everyone on the block knew and gravitated to.

“His life is to be celebrated,” Pittman said. “Obviously people are going to morn because he’s not here anymore. But ultimately what I know from conversations that I’ve had with my grandfather is that he wants to be celebrated. He deserves to be celebrated.”

He is survived by his son, Pirate Joe Harris Sr., and two daughters, Michaun Harris and Latanya Pittman, along with five grandchildren, according to Hunter. His wife, Louise Harris, died in 1981, and a sixth grandchild has also died.

Pittman said that his grandfather would sometimes ask him if he would ever jump out of a plane. In October, Pittman had the opportunity to follow in his grandfather’s airborne footsteps.

For a week, he did paratrooper jump training in Corsicana, Texas, through the Liberty Jump Team, an organization that works to preserve the memory of veterans.

“When I got my wings, I actually broke down and started crying because everything in that moment just resonated with me,” he said. “It was like, dang I’m literally doing what my grandfather did.”

Shortly before Harris’ death, he got a landing zone, in Tuskegee, Alabama, dedicated in his name. Pittman said he plans to be the very first person to jump in the Sgt. Joe Harris Dropzone.

A specialized U.S. Navy dive crew and a unit of Polish Armed Forces engineers were traveling Friday to a training site in Lithuania to help with the recovery of four U.S. soldiers who were first reported missing Tuesday.

U.S. and Lithuanian personnel were still working Friday to access the site where the soldiers’ M88 Hercules armored vehicle was found 15 feet underwater Wednesday in a swamp on a training site near Pabrade, Lithuania. Thick mud and soft ground were keeping emergency personnel from accessing the vehicle and complicating the multiday recovery effort.

Maj. Gen. Curtis Taylor, commanding general of the 1st Armored Division, said in a statement Friday it would be a “long and difficult recovery operation.”

“The area around the site is incredibly wet and marshy and doesn’t support the weight of the equipment needed for the recovery of the 70-ton vehicle without significant engineering improvements,” U.S. Army Europe and Africa said in the statement. “Draining the area has been slow and difficult due to groundwater seepage.”

By Friday, the second full day of the recovery mission, subject matter experts from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had arrived on site. Authorities also brought in a large-capacity slurry pump, cranes and more than 30 tons of gravel.

The Polish Armed Forces volunteered a unit of military engineers to help in the recovery. Its 150 personnel, water pump and tracked recovery vehicles were on their way to the site Friday, as was a Navy dive crew from Commander Task Force 68, headquartered in Rota, Spain. The crew was expected to join the recovery efforts within the next 24 hours.

Before being reported missing, the soldiers, all part of 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division, had been conducting a maintenance mission to recover another Army vehicle. The initial search included military helicopters, Lithuanian diving teams and hundreds of U.S. and Lithuanian soldiers and law enforcement officers looking through thick forests and swampy terrain.

Since Wednesday, personnel have focused on the area where their armored vehicle was found. Around the clock, they’ve been working to drain water and dredge mud from the site to better stabilize the ground, the Army said.

The service has held off confirming the fates of the four soldiers, and their names had not yet been released Friday. The Army said it was keeping the families of the soldiers updated on the situation.

Lithuanian President Gitanas Nausėda and Kara C. McDonald, the U.S. ambassador to Lithuania, joined Taylor at the site Friday to “gain a better understanding of the complexity of the operation,” an Army release said.

“We are absolutely committed to bringing our soldiers home,” Taylor said in the release. “I remain incredibly impressed by the discipline, commitment and camaraderie in this unit as they attempt to recover their missing comrades.”

The U.S. Navy’s eldest aircraft carrier set sail out of San Diego on Wednesday for what is sure to be its final trip.

The Nimitz, which was first commissioned in 1975 and given a service lifespan of 50 years, left Naval Air Station North Island, San Diego — once its homeport for 11 years — for a regularly scheduled deployment to the Indo-Pacific region, according to a Navy social media post. The Nimitz Carrier Strike Group arrived in California after leaving Naval Base Kitsap in Bremerton, Washington, on March 21.

“Seeing our Sailors man the rails today — with reflections from our very first deployment in 1976 — reminds us how far we’ve come, and how strong our legacy remains,” the post read.

The Nimitz Carrier Strike Group includes the aircraft carrier Nimitz, as well as the nine squadrons of Carrier Air Wing 17 and the four Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyers of Destroy Squadron 9.

The Nimitz most recently completed a six-month deployment to the Indo-Pacific in June 2023, where it visited Japan and India, took part in the U.S. Indo-Pacific Command’s Large Scale Global Exercise and provided disaster relief to Guam after Typhoon Mawar.

During its newest deployment, the strike group “will focus on protecting security, freedom, and prosperity for the United States, our allies and partners, and demonstrating the U.S. Navy’s unwavering commitment to a free and open Indo-Pacific,” according to a Navy release.

One of the largest ships in the world, the Nimitz was first deployed on July 7, 1976, to the Mediterranean, according to a Navy website on the Nimitz.

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Two years later, the carrier was sent to the Indian Ocean after Iran took 52 U.S. hostages following an attack on the U.S. embassy in Tehran. Eventually, the carrier assisted with Operation Evening Light in an attempt to rescue those hostages, though the mission was called off after the U.S. wasn’t able to secure enough helicopters to pull off the rescue. All 52 hostages were eventually released and returned to the U.S.

The carrier provided support for Operation Desert Storm in the Arabian Gulf in 1991 and Operation Southern Watch in 1993 and 1997.

Nimitz spent 12 years at Naval Station Norfolk until 1987, when it relocated to what is now Naval Base Kitsap, Washington. Then, in 2001, the Nimitz found its newest home at Naval Air Station North Island in San Diego, where it set off from in 2005 to support Operation Iraqi Freedom and the Global War on Terrorism.

In 2012, the Nimitz relocated again to another homeport in Everett, Washington, and deployed in 2013 in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.

The Nimitz also etched its name in the annals of Navy lore when it fielded the Navy F-35 Lightning’s first carrier landing at sea.

In 2020, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, the Nimitz embarked on a historically long 341-day deployment — the longest since the Vietnam War — and returned home in March 2021.

“Nimitz, in its 50th year of service, continues and celebrates its legacy of strengthening alliances and partnerships, demonstrating the power of teamwork and cooperation in maintaining peace and security,” the Navy release said.

The Nimitz will eventually return to Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia, in 2026, before it is set to be decommissioned.