Ross A. Smith
Corporal, United States Marine Corps
March 4, 1984 – February 9, 2006
Age – 21
Wyoming, MI
Operation Iraqi Freedom
3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Camp Pendleton, CA
Killed by an improvised explosive device while engaged in Combat operations near Falliyah, Iraq
Cpl. Ross A. Smith of Wyoming, Michigan graduated from Wyoming Park High School in 2002, and it was a time that he loved sports and hanging out with his friends, girlfriend and brothers. He joined the Marines after High School because he wanted to serve his country. He was on his third Tour of Duty in Iraq. He always enjoyed his time on leave so he could spend time with his family and friends and he looked forward to civilian life and going into business for himself. He saw many in his Marine Corps Unit injured and killed in Iraq and he had a tattoo made in their honor.
During high school, when he wasn’t focused on playing basketball or golf, Ross loved making people laugh, and could be a bit of a prankster. Before graduating from Wyoming Park High School in June of 2002, he enlisted in the Marines during his senior year. Even after the events of 9/11 when the danger of military service increased, he was adamant about his desire to serve is country, and fulfill his duty to protect the American people.
Cpl Smith also loved getting to spend time with his family and friends when he was on leave, and genuinely worked to help those around him. To his family, friends and his fellow marines, Ross was a constant source of support.
“He was always able to light up the room and lighten any situation with his infectious smile. He was a hero and a true American Patriot,” Lucas Smith, said. “He loved his country and died doing what he loved.”
One of his fellow Marines remembered him this way.
“I called Ross “Smitty”. I think everyone in second platoon did. He was in my squad during the invasion, and he was my team leader for a time in Fallujah. We saw a lot of firefights together. Smitty was a funny guy. When I think about him now, two incidents come to mind: during the invasion we starved for a couple days at a time, because our supply lines couldn’t catch up to us or they were getting creamed by the Fedayeen, I don’t know which. We found all this MRE garbage that was left by some unit that was apparently well fed, because Smitty came over to my fighting hole to share some crackers with me. Upon his offer I looked at what he was eating and it had ants in it. I declined his offer, and he just scarfed the stuff. He said he didn’t care. Smitty rolled with the punches.
The other incident was after our third (and most vicious) firefight of that tour. We both were posted on this tunnel that some foreign fighters had tried to attack us from. It was nighttime, and we sat among the Arab cadavers and talked about home. He told me a ton of stories about his friends and family life in Michigan. I would just sit and listen, as we looked at hundreds of orange lit artillery shells arcing in the sky towards Baghdad.
We had many nights like that in Fallujah, too.
When I heard what happened on his third tour (I wasn’t there) I sank into myself for a long, long, time.”