by John M. Curtis
(310) 204-8700

Copyright March 23, 2006
All Rights Reserved.

attling the U.S. Army over the truth about his felled son, 27-year-old Army Ranger Cpl. Pat D. Tillman, 51-year-old Patrick K. Tillman senior faces a living nightmare trying to piece together the real story behind his son's death. When news surfaced April 22, 2004 about the death of the former NFL Arizona Cardinal linebacker, the Army's official report indicated Tillman was killed engaging the enemy in the mountainous region of southeastern Afghanistan, about 25 miles southwest of Khost. “Tillman was killed in action in Afghanistan on April 22,” read the U.S. Army Special Operations Command's press release, announcing his memorial service May 3. Pat left a $3.6 million contract with the Arizona Cardinals to join his younger brother Kevin with Army Special Forces stationed with the 173rd Airborne Brigade in northern Iraq, hunting down the Taliban and Osama bin Laden.

      Tillman was posthumously awarded the Army's Silver Star, for bravery under fire and eulogized as a hero at his funeral May 3. One month later, word surfaced attributing Tillman's death to friendly fire, stunning the Tillman family who believed the Army's original report. Official reports described Cpl. Tillman's death, engaging the enemy in a firefight at dusk in a remote canyon. “All I asked for is what happened to my son, and it has been lie after lie after lie,” said Pat's father, frustrated by what he sees as an Army cover-up. After complaining to Congress, the Army took the unusual steps of opening up a criminal investigation into Cpl. Tillman's death. While officially deemed accidental, Tillman's father finds the conclusion suspect. “You could see every last detail on that place, everything, and you're telling me they couldn't see Pat?” unable to accept the Army's official report.

      Official Army reports placed Tillman only 70 yards away from his Ranger company that had been split and deployed to opposite sides of the same canyon. Senior Tillman finds it inconceivable that his son wasn't recognized by fellow Rangers before they opened fire. Inspector General spokesman Gary Comerford indicated that the Army Criminal Investigation Command was “dealing with events leading up to the death, and we're looking at anything after that,” including contradictory eyewitness reports from Tillman's fellow Rangers. Tillman's father can't understand why Pat's buddies would burn his uniform, priceless crime-scene evidence. “There's so much nonstandard conduct, both before an after Pat was killed, that you have to start to wonder,” said Mr. Tillman, asking “How much effort would you put into hiding an accident? Why do you need to hide an accident?” questioning the cover-up.

      Tillman's father remains concerned about shifting testimony, destruction of crime scene evidence and contradictory statements about the details related to his son's “accidental” death, including distances, lighting and, specifically, who pulled the trigger that killed Pat. “The balance that investigators now have to wrestle with is how much of a crime scene approach they can take—nearly two years after the fact—into the fog of war, where soldiers were making decisions in milliseconds,” said an unnamed Pentagon official, blowing more smoke about the investigation. With evidence destroyed by soldiers, of course it's difficult to reconstruct the crime scene. Calling the difficulty “the fog of war,” ignores soldiers' responsibility to accurately report on the events before, during and after Tillman's death. It didn't take “milliseconds” to decide to burn Tillman's uniform and body armor.

      There's no “fog of war” when soldiers at the scene deliberately dispose of key pieces of evidence. Efforts to sanitize the crime scene can only be seen as a calculated attempt to hide or cover-up significant evidence. Accidents do happen but it's no accident when commanding officers order soldiers to dispose of evidence that could be used in a criminal investigation. Calling the accident “a communication breakdown” can't explain why soldiers burned Pat's uniform and body armor. “At this point I don't believe that the facts of this case are going to come out without the serious threat of jail time hanging over some folks,” said Pat's father, concerned that whatever demotions and punishments occurred would not induce Rangers and commanding officers to get out the truth. “It was a hygiene issue,” said one Ranger responsible for destroying Tillman's uniform. “They were starting to stink.”

      Mr. Tillman's nightmare involves more than his grief over his son's death. Pentagon officials appear more concerned about face-saving than getting to the bottom of what really happened that tragic April 22, 2004. Tillman's case underscores the Pentagon's inability to come clean with serious mistakes, including egregious miscalculations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Not only has the Pentagon prolonged the Tillman family's agony they have raised serious doubts about credibility. Changing stories and making feeble excuses doesn't give the kind of reassurance needed to restore confidence. “We deeply regret their loss,” said Army spokesman Col. Joseph Curtin, “and will continue to answer their questions in a truthful and forthright manner,” engaging in more politically correct doublespeak. With sincerity like that, is it any wonder the Pentagon has a credibility problem?

About the Author

John M. Curtis writes politically neutral commentary analyzing spin in national and global news. He's editor of OnlineColumnist.com and author of Dodging The Bullet and Operation Charisma.

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