Foster L. Harrington

Sergeant, U.S. Marine Corps

Sgt Foster L. Harrington, 31, of Ft. Worth, Texas, died Sept. 20, 2004 due to enemy action in Al Anbar Province, Iraq. Harrington was assigned to the Marine Corps Reserve’s 3rd Force Reconnaissance Company, 4th Marine Division, Mobile, Alabama.

Harrington was more worried about his fiancee and others in Alabama threatened by Hurricane Ivan than the dangers he was facing in Iraq. “I said, `Foster, you’re in worse circumstances than I am, so why are you worried about me?’” said his fiancee, Fran Poston. “He said, ‘Because I want to make sure you’re taken care of. I’m OK where I’m at.’” Harrington, 31, joined the Marines in 1992 and was a water combat instructor and assigned to the Marines’ version of a special-forces unit. “The last words he talked about, he said ‘I’ll be back,’” said Paul Newton, chief of the Seven Hills Volunteer Fire Department, near Mobile, where Harrington was a firefighter and medic. “I said, ‘Buddy, your gear is in the closet, it’s yours and no one else is going take it,’” Newton said. Harrington said he’d be back for it, but “‘This is something I got to do, I want to go.’

Sgt Harrington was well loved by his family and friends.  I received a touching letter from one of Harrington’s fellow Marines that spoke very highly of the fallen sergeant:

Foster was my rack-mate in bootcamp. (San Deigo 1st Battlion, Charlie Company, Platoon 1102) and we also served together in MCT.  Foster was a solid Marine and very funny guy.  We enlisted at the same time and actually roomed together when we went through the enlisting phase (MEPS).  We rode together and took the same flight, and ended up on the same famed bus and yellow footprints.  Foster was a Marine’s Marine. He was hard-core.  I was impressed by his physical resilience, yet he never took himself too seriously.  An intresting fact is the drill instructor form the reality show Boot Camp and Celebrity Boot Camp, Rosenbum, was our actual, real life DI.  Foster and I were scribes and had the chance for many gear guard duties while the rest of the platoon was away.  Rosenbum would wear us out and Foster always had such a great, playfull attitude about it.  I, on the other hand, would be wiped out.  Yet he would always cheer me up.  We leaned on each other.  It’s the purest form of brotherhood I have ever known.  When I think back to Foster I instantly think a textbook Marine both in professional acheivement and the admiration and respect of felow Marines.  Foster is the Marine you want in your platoon.

In reality, I had never met someone of the Jewish faith.  Of course, I had read and heard all the ‘sterotypes’.  They were instantly ‘removed’ when I met Foster.  He was a great guy who was very proud of his faith.  When he attended synagogue I would literally miss him.  He tried to entice me to go to Jewish services by pointing out that, “We get Coke and our service lasts longer!” He was kidding, but that was Foster’s sense of humor.  He and I lived close and we went out when we got back from MCT.  Foster went on to achieve great things and I am very proud of him.  As my brother, I wish him to be remembered for being a Marine, a great Jewish-American, and a hero. 

One time in boot camp, Foster and I were joking in our two-man hooch in the middle of nowhere.  To our surprise, our Company Commander poked his head in the hooch with a glare.  The next day our senior asked who the joksters were.  We both stepped forward. The DI decreed we were to perform the Grim Reaper (26 Mile Force March) again as punishment.  When the day came for those Marines who had not completed the Reaper the first time to complete the march, Foster and I stepped forward to receive our punishment.  Much to our pleasure, our DI told us to stop joking around and get back in formation.  We both looked at each other and as if by ESP, communicated a big “YES!!!!!” It’s a simple story, but it personfies the reltionships that Marines forge.

When we were “first phasers” and a group of ‘hardened’ “third phasers” marched by our DI asked us if we felt goosebumps.  We did.  It was the spirt of Marines past.  Foster and I looked at each other in silent agreement. I still feel those goosebumps now, but they have greater meaning . Even in death, I count Foster as one of my closest friends and miss him very much.  I tend to his grave site and will continue to as long as the Lord allows me. He rests well, and not alone.  Until then, he guards the streets of Heaven.  It is my sincerest wish that we all remember the sacrifice of Sgt Foster Harrington.

You can leave a memorial message for Sgt Harrington at the Fallen Heroes Memorial and read more about him here.

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