Editor’s note: For Veterans Day, PEOPLE is publishing a series of stories looking back at the service members and families affected by the two battles of Fallujah, in Iraq, in 2004 — combined, they marked some of the bloodiest fights in recent American history.
Ultimate sacrifice. It’s a euphemism for death on the battlefield that Marine Corps mom Sharon McLeese heard repeatedly while attending son Justin’s January 2004 graduation from boot camp. That sentiment didn’t sit well with her.
“Look at me,” she told Justin. “There will be no ‘ultimate sacrifice’ here. Don’t even talk ‘ultimate sacrifice’ to me.”
But within six months, he was in Iraq. Soon he was engaged in Operation Phantom Fury — the second battle of Fallujah — facing the ultimate sacrifice in what became the deadliest fight in Iraq for American forces.
One hundred and seven U.S. service members were killed, along with thousands of civilians and insurgents. Including Justin McLeese.
“That wasn’t my choice,” his mom, Sharon, says of his decision to become a Marine. “Never in a million years, not my boy. But when your kid joins [the military], you’re along for the ride, no matter what comes.”
Like many families of young service members, the McLeeses (including Justin’s father, Dan) hadn’t expected their son to enlist. The fourth child after three girls — the adored baby of the family — “Justin was an incredible kid from the minute he came into this world,” says his mom.
He grew up on a bayou in Covington, La., “taking the boat out like a little Huck Finn,” running around fields dotted with cypress trees alongside other neighborhood boys and his tribe of sisters.
The gifted athlete “was a whopper — he did everything quick,” Sharon says. He always stuck up for the little guy and grew into a good man who always knew the right thing to do, she says. “He had such a bright future.”
But Justin was very much a part of the so-called 9/11 generation of Marines: those young men and women who’d witnessed the terrorist attack on the United States and considered it a challenge to defend their country.
courtesy McLeese family
The McLeese family
In his senior year, a recruiter reached out and Justin listened. His mother couldn’t. “No Marine Corps for you,” she told her son. “We are at war.”
In 2004, the United States was about a year into the invasion of Iraq, which already had claimed the lives of numerous troops — other people’s sons and daughters. Even so, one evening Justin came home, sat next to his mother on the couch and put his arm around her. Ma, he told her, “I’ve joined. I’m 18 and it’s an experience I want in my life.”
Then he added: “You worry too much.”
Justin’s decision impacted his entire family, from his parents to his sisters, from grandparents to aunts, uncles and cousins. In June 2004, at age 19, he deployed to the Anbar Province with the 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, nicknamed “the Thundering Third,” out of Camp Pendleton, Calif.
Even before Justin shipped out, Sharon’s fears had already been amplified when a year into the initial invasion, four U.S. contractors were ambushed on March 31, 2004, and killed inside Fallujah, their burned bodies strung from a bridge.
Never miss a story — sign up for PEOPLE’s free daily newsletter to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer, from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories.
Justin was still stateside attending infantry school, training for combat.
“The contractors’ killings sparked all sorts of outrage,” says retired Col. Keil Gentry, a Fallujah veteran and director of the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Triangle, Va. “The images of the charred remains of the contractors were barbaric. Marine leaders advised restraint while the president and secretary of defense demanded swift retribution.”
The 1st Marine Division was sent into the city of Fallujah, a haven for foreign fighters and insurgents, for about six days of combat operations in early April 2004.
Justin deployed to Iraq and prepared to enter Fallujah with his unit for the second battle, Operation Phantom Fury, which began on Nov. 7, 2004. Among the goals was to support the upcoming Iraqi elections by clearing the city of insurgents and extremists. Despite living in a war zone, Justin’s upbeat spirit remained intact.
“I have photos of him in Iraq, with all the Marines huddled around him, and he’s always in the middle,” says Sharon. “His sergeant called him ‘a happy warrior.’ ”
courtesy McLeese family
From left: Sharon and Justin McLeese
Like other Marine moms, she continually searched for details about Justin and the Thundering Third. Watching TV reports. Scanning Marine parents message boards. Sifting through letters and news shared by his girlfriend in Covington.
On a mid-November evening that year, on middle daughter Gina’s birthday, Sharon permitted herself to join the celebration. “At first I told my husband, ‘I can’t go out. Justin’s in this battle,’ ” she says. “I was making myself crazy. But I went.”
The family drove across the lake into New Orleans, enjoyed dinner at a landmark restaurant and then met Justin’s oldest sister, Tara, at a sports bar. As soon as Justin gets home, they told each other, he’s gonna love this sports bar. We’re bringing him here.
Later that evening — in the middle of the night — there was a knock at the door. Sharon threw on her robe and went to answer. But first she looked out the window, “and I saw that white Marine van that all Marine parents know.” There were three of them, two uniformed Marines and a Navy chaplain.
“How bad is he hurt?” she called out, because she couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“We regret to inform you,” they said. Justin was one of 107 service members killed in action during the second battle.
Just like that, Sharon McLeese became a Gold Star mom. She and her husband were stuck in place. They couldn’t move. But their youngest daughter — Jessica, then 22— reacted, picking up porch chairs and throwing them at the team.
Don’t you tell me that about my brother, she screamed. “Get away from me!”
Sharon, now 71, believed that losing her son would kill her. Just let me live long enough to be sure Justin has what he needs for the funeral, she thought, and then I’m done.
But her girls also needed her, and her husband needed her. And she kept reflecting on her son: What would he want? “I thought, ‘How awful would it be for me to take myself out?’ Oh boy, Justin would have been furious. So we hung in, and here I am, 20 years later.” The ultimate sacrifice.
courtesy McLeese family
Justin McLeese’s tomb
Nearly from Day One after her son’s death, Sharon worked on building a tomb for him in his hometown (“I call it my ‘crazy grieving mother tomb’ ”) with his images etched into it, to tell his story.
“He wasn’t just going to be a name and date,” she says. “I wanted people to feel it and to know what was sacrificed.”
For his service, Justin was awarded the Bronze Star medal with the “V” device — the fourth-highest military decoration for valor during acts of heroism in ground combat.
Justin’s community showed up, too, beginning with the long lines of mourners at his funeral and continuing on with the banners and bumper stickers — “JM Forever” that Gina created — still seen on cars in the parish, all these years later; and on to the strangers who approach Sharon from time to time to tell her about something kind her son did.
She is comforted by the Louisiana Marine Moms and the Gold Star Mothers communities, as well as the Marine Corps League and the unit Marines who remember Justin.
courtesy McLeese family
From left: Dan and Sharon McLeese
Twenty-one years later, Sharon has a thriving real-estate business, loads of friends in town, four grandchildren she treasures and a rich and easy laugh, sometimes bookended by tears.
“It was a struggle to get my joy back,” she says. “I’m sad. If I could’ve changed places and given him the years instead of me, I would’ve done it in a second. I tried to make that deal with God. I even said, ‘How about a two-for-one deal? Take my husband and me both and let Justin be here.’ But it didn’t work.”
She says she always shows up at Memorial Day and other veterans events. “I’ve learned through the years that if you’re not ready to stand up there, they’re not going to say their names,” she says. “And as long as I have breath in my body, I’ll be standing for my son.”
And saying his name:
Justin Daniel McLeese, USMC, 19, killed in enemy action in Fallujah, Iraq
Nov. 13, 2004
Read the original article on People
