Miscellaneous
General David Petraeus pinned a Purple Heart on Wayne Swier’s chest as he lay in a Bagram Airfield hospital bed. He had yet to leave Afghanistan with thoughts on his future after a horrific injury but also on one of the buddies he left behind—Curtis “Moose” Oakes. Both were soldiers in the 101st Airborne. The army sent Swier to Walter Reed Medical Center where he faced over two years of rehabilitation. On his last call with Oakes, they had discussed having a beer soon. Another friend, Aaron Murphy, had been calling Swier regularly, but one day, he called sobbing. He gave him the news that their friend, Curtis Oakes, had been killed. In reality, he had been murdered by a rogue Afghan Border Policeman. The news devastated Swier. He’d lost his best friend. A few days before, at Thanksgiving, Val Oakes had talked to her son. On November 29, 2010, a chaplain and other officers arrived and delivered the crushing news that her “Moose” had been killed. “Curtis has been my hero his whole life. Sixteen months after having Curtis, my uterus ruptured, losing Bradley, Curtis's younger brother. He saw me [later], flashed that incredible smile, and ran right over to me, giving me the best hug ever!”1 Curtis Oakes was a giant of a man, standing 6’9”. He played basketball, satisfying the cliché, but wasn’t known as an athlete. His slow manner of running earned him the nickname “Moose,” which he wore proudly. His infectious smile and desire to make others laugh made him a true gentle giant. A caring giant. Full of life.