Memorial Day isn’t just a long weekend or a chance to fire up the grill. It’s a sacred pause, a moment to stand tall and honor the men and women who laid it all on the line for this great nation and never came home.
Among those devoted patriots is my brother-in-arms and my friend, Major Gregg “Linus” Stone, a B-1 back-seater and Air Liaison Officer whose light was snuffed out too soon during Operation Iraqi Freedom. His grave in Arlington National Cemetery’s Section 60 stands as a testament to his sacrifice, alongside countless others who gave their last full measure for the United States. Today, we remember them all.
I can still hear Linus’s laugh, see that crooked smile his family talked about at his memorial in Boise. Gregg wasn’t just a warrior; he was a father, a mentor, a guy who’d buy a cap and gown for a high school buddy too broke to afford one.
He could make himself comfortable anywhere and always had a civilian set of sleeping gear with him, carrying it around the world on deployments. Even if we were in the hottest place on earth, there he would be with a blanket slung over his shoulder as he strode into our tent feeling sorry for the rest of us who relied on military issue gear – hence the call sign “Linus” like the “Peanuts” cartoons character.
And he loved his boys, Alex and Joshua, with a fierceness that shone through in every letter he sent home.
When Gregg deployed to Kuwait with the Idaho Air National Guard’s 124th Air Support Operations Squadron, he called it his “final exam.” He aced it – but in doing so made the ultimate sacrifice.
On March 22, 2003, night one of Iraqi Freedom, Greg was at Camp Pennsylvania when a traitor in uniform, Sgt. Hasan Akbar, tossed grenades into the tents where our troops slept. Gregg took 83 shrapnel wounds and fought for three days before succumbing to his wounds on March 25 at Camp Udairi. He was 40 years old, the first Air Force casualty of the war, and the first Idaho resident to fall.
His death wasn’t on some cinematic battlefield; it was a gut-punch betrayal, a reminder that war’s cruelty doesn’t always come from the enemy on the front lines.
Gregg’s memory lives on, not just in Arlington but in the hearts of those who knew him. In 2006, patriots stood in New York City, holding signs with names of the fallen, including Gregg’s, to honor those lost in Iraq. It’s a reminder – Linus wasn’t just a name on a headstone in Section 60, Plot 7864. He was a hero whose work as a B-1 aviator and Air Liaison Officer with the Army saved lives, a man whose love for his sons endures in the “special drawer” they kept for his letters and mementos.
His family’s pain, especially when Michael Moore exploited footage of Gregg’s funeral in Fahrenheit 9/11 without their consent, is a wound that lingers. Yet they carry on, as Gregg would’ve wanted.
Arlington’s Section 60 is hallowed ground, where the fallen from Iraq and Afghanistan rest. It’s raw, messy, alive with grief – photos, letters, and painted stones left by families who still feel the ache. Gregg lies near Marine Lance Corporal Patrick Nixon, killed in a firefight in Iraq, and others like Corporal Kemaphoom “Chuckles” Chanawongse and 1st Lieutenant Frederick Pokorney, all cut down in March 2003. Each headstone tells a story of valor, from World War I to Afghanistan, of every race, creed, and corner of America. They’re not just names; they’re the best of us.
This Memorial Day, we salute them all – every soldier, sailor, airman, Marine, and Coast Guardsman who faced the fire and didn’t make it back. From the trenches of Verdun to the deserts of Anbar, they stood for something bigger: liberty, duty, the idea that America’s worth fighting for.
The Old Guard at Arlington, the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment, will place flags at every grave, saluting Medal of Honor recipients like they’re still standing watch. Presidents have walked Section 60, from Bush to Trump, to honor these warriors. But it’s up to us, the living, to keep their stories alive.
Gregg’s half-brother, Frank Lenzi, said it best at his memorial: life is short, so make it count. Linus made every second count – mentoring his brothers, innovating high-speed internet at his startup company he co-founded, promising his boys a trip to Universal Studios. He’s gone, but he’s still teaching us to live with purpose, to cherish our families, to serve something greater.
So today, raise a glass to Major Gregg “Linus” Stone and every hero buried in Arlington and beyond. Visit a cemetery, read their names, tell their stories. Don’t let their memory drift away. They gave all for us; the least we can do is remember.
Rest easy, Linus. We’ve got the watch.
Rob Maness is a retired Air Force Colonel, a former wing and squadron commander, veteran of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, a survivor of the 9/11 Pentagon Attack, Graduate of the U.S. Navy War College and Harvard Kennedy School, a former U.S. Senate Candidate, Chairman of GatorPAC, CEO and Owner of Iron Liberty Group LLC, and Host of the Rob Maness Show on WorldViewTube.
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