Marine Capt. Jason Schauble and his men were going to hit a certain farmhouse in Faris Town, south of Fallujah in Iraq, and they were going to hit it hard.
They did exactly that. But twice the expected number of terrorists were holed up as Schauble's unit burst inside.
In the ensuing military maelstrom, the then-29-year-old Schauble exposed himself to almost certain death to rescue a comrade. The captain suffered crippling wounds, but rallied his 30-man task force to win a bloody battle.
Schauble's action earned him one of the military's top awards for courage in combat, the Silver Star. For prior heroism he was honored with a Bronze Star with a combat V for valor. For later efforts he was awarded a Meritorious Service Medal.
According to the Jacksonville, N.C., Daily News, at Schauble's award ceremony at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina, Maj. Gen. Dennis Hejlik marveled out loud, "Man, where do we get these Marines?" Schauble had suffered nerve damage, shock and severe loss of blood in the farmhouse battle.
Then Hejlik, head of the Marines' Special Operations Command, answered his own question: "We get them right here . . . the Corps is better because you served."
The Corps landed Schauble after what he describes as an ordinary upbringing. But even as a youngster, Schauble showed a bent for service and a knack for exploration.
Long Distance
Born and raised in the suburbs south of Boston, Schauble spent some high school time in Germany as an exchange student. He went on to Bates College in Maine. During a semester in Washington, D.C., he landed an internship with the U.S. Marshals Service.
He also demonstrated fearlessness. Studying abroad in his senior year of college, he took a job with a freight forwarding firm in the Balkans. Allied troops had just been deployed to enforce the Dayton Peace Accords following the Bosnian war.
"It was on-the-job learning about how to avoid land mines," he said. "I learned how to not get ambushed. I learned to get around when people don't speak English. And I learned how to avoid being associated with warring ethnic groups."
After college he enlisted in the Marines  to take on challenges.
Jim Carta, a teacher and coach at Canton (Mass.) High School, remembers Schauble working harder than anyone to hone his basketball skills. "I had him as a student in an honors advanced placement English class his junior year. And I was coach of the girls' team, not Jason's.
"But I'd be around the gym late in the day. And Jason was the kid who always took 50 extra free throws after practice. He'd also work on jump-roping. He did other exercises on his own to improve his quickness. Over and over."
Schauble's career choice was no surprise to others who knew him.
"He was one of the most focused people I've ever met," said Peter Ladow, another high school teacher. "And he was very disciplined. He knew early on he wanted to go into law enforcement or the military."
A military career can be hard on a family, Schauble says. If he had not been wounded, he would have remained in combat.
That would have kept him on the far side of the globe from his wife, Melicia. And his focus would have remained on, as he puts it, being a gunfighter. "That is not good for marriage," he said. "I would have come home to an empty house."
Not that his wife is prissy. She too was in the Marines. Schauble summarizes her resume like this: "She was a combat engineer, building bridges for tanks in the invasion of Iraq. And she's been a professional boxer."
Schauble's medical discharge enabled him and Melicia to get on with their lives together. The couple's first child was born in February.
Despite his wounds, Schauble would not run his last battle in Iraq any differently if he had a second chance. "I take risks for the guys I'm fighting with," Schauble said. "And there's nothing more exciting than being in a situation, having 70% of the information you need, and making decisions. Nothing."
Schauble's unit was a force reconnaissance outfit. It was part of the 4th Platoon, 2nd Force Recon, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Division, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force.
The night of Jan. 3, 2005, the men dismounted from their armored vehicles a kilometer from their target. They approached on foot and got to within feet of the entrance.
"There was no front door, just a blanket across the entry," Schauble said. "Suddenly, two guys came out to have a cigarette. That sort of ruined our surprise."
Schauble's men kept going. But one, Sgt. Tom Houser, took a bullet in the armpit. He went down.
"In an instant it became a pitched fight," Schauble said.
Earlier that night, thermal images from a drone aircraft showed a dozen people in the farmhouse. But now there were twice as many of the enemy  and at least one terrorist shooter on the roof.
With gunfire erupting all around, Schauble called up his vehicles. He needed their heavy weapons. But he couldn't just light up the farmhouse, what with Houser trapped and wounded inside.
"Marines believe you lead from in front," Schauble said. "I decided to go into the room to get him out."
Two Marines plunged through the entry with Schauble. "Seven bad guys were in that room," Schauble said. "Most of them can't hit anything from 30 feet away. But we were only five or six feet away."
As the lead man in, Schauble's job was to draw enemy fire and movement. That would reveal their positions. "I was the rabbit," Schauble said. "I threw a flash bang and went in, moving and shooting. One bad guy came at me. All I could see were his teeth."
A hand grenade explosion wounded Gunnery Sgt. Ed McDermott, Schauble's second in command.
Bullets battered Schauble's body armor. One round smashed into his right forearm. It struck inches from his face. A second bullet crashed into the same arm.
But Schauble kept going. He raked his weapon from right to left. "My partner shot left to right. Our fields of fire met in the middle. We got seven bad guys. But their guy in the middle tagged me."
Bombing And Recovery
Schauble's team got Houser out. Then they bombed the farm house.
"I can't use my right hand anymore," said Schauble, who turns 32 on April 10. "The doctors took nerves from my legs to repair my arm. That eliminated some pain. But I can't use it. I have use of my legs, but I can't feel the back of my calves or around the ankles."
Schauble's hometown newspaper in Massachusetts described his medals award ceremony.
Maj. Gen. Hejlik, it reported, said of Schauble: "Most of us have led Marines in combat. He has just done it exceptionally well."
The Marines haven't lost Schauble's skills despite his medical retirement. The Corps hired him as a civilian to help run the operations division at the Marine Special Operations Command.
BY PAUL KATZEFF
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