Passing the Bataan

In the early hours of March 19, I stood at the starting line of the Bataan Memorial Death March at the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. As I stood staring at a giant American flag hoisted by a crane, I couldn’t help but be filled with a sense of pride. I was surrounded by young ROTC students, 17- and 18-yearolds, as well as current and former military men and women, all here for one cause — to honor and remember those who served in World War II and were forced to march 65 miles to confinement camps in the Philippines.

working on a crew on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons. We all have each other’s back. We are out there as a team. We fail together and we succeed together. When the going gets tough, you don’t get to quit. You persevere and if one person is getting flak, we all are getting it as a team. And you work together as a team to get through whatever adversity you face.

And just like the military, you have to be physically fit in officiating to get the job done. I’ve always tried to find ways to get in shape to be ready for the start of the football season, and that is part of what led me to the White Sands Missile Range this particular day.

I have friends in my town, David and Annie Thomas, whose sons are in the Air Force Academy and had run the marathon in the past. I read what the marathon was about and I really liked the physical challenge of it, and thought it would be a great way to get in better shape to get ready for my upcoming season. I signed up in December, trained for two to three months and thought I was prepared for the challenge. The key word in that sentence is “thought.” as a reminder that his generation is quickly passing. The world today is shaped by the tremendous sacrifices from that generation.

The event was more than I imagined it would be as I set out on the 26.2-mile course with my 35-pound backpack. In typical military fashion, the scale for weighing the backpacks was a little off and the backpack ended up weighing roughly 42 pounds.

Once out on the course, I was able to ease into a 10-minute-mile pace, and then the hills kicked in. My back and my legs began to hurt and I had blisters on my feet. I reached a point in the race where there are three to four straight miles of incline. I started to think about what the actual Death March survivors went through. There certainly were no water points on their 68-mile course. I put that in perspective and kept pushing on. When you are in the military, you don’t have a choice. If you don’t get there, your whole unit doesn’t get there.

When I finished, I was as sore as I’ve ever been. But to be able to pay homage to the Greatest Generation was the best part to me. It was an honor.

At the end, I was tired. And while crossing the finish line, I took a brief moment to reflect. When I served, Ranger regiment wasn’t special because of me. It’s special because of those before me who served in Korea and Vietnam, willing to do things under tremendous adversity — and they did it well. Finishing this race was an ode to them as we in the military stand on the shoulders of those before us. We embrace that legacy and add to it.

What lay ahead over the next several hours was a grueling marathon that would push all of us to our limits.

But first, let me tell you how I got here.

When I was younger, I was in need of discipline and I found that in the Army. When I left the military, I missed that camaraderie and teamwork. I have a really great job, but I was missing out on something. I found that something through officiating football.

And I found a lot of similarities between my time in the military and

At 6:30 a.m., we all pushed off and started the challenge. One of the coolest parts of the event, and something I will never forget, was having Valdemar DeHerrera there to see everyone step off. DeHerrera, 103, is one of the oldest, if not the oldest, surviving members of the Bataan Death March, with only about a dozen survivors still alive. We had an opportunity to speak with him and shake his hand, but I regret not being able to get a photo with him as I never expected a survivor to be there. That generation saw some of the worst atrocities of war. He serves

I am looking forward to challenging myself again next year and hoping to get some of my football crewmates to join me. It is an opportunity to experience that camaraderie a lot of us military guys miss when we are away from it and a chance to build more with my crew. Mike Faltus, Tacoma, Wash., is a football official working NCAA D-I (Southland Conference) and high school football. He is an umpire and center judge and was a member of the Army 75th Ranger Regiment. *

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