By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

Ioakimo Falaniko saved every letter his son sent him from basic training.

"In this one, he said, 'Hi Dad, or shall I call you Sergeant Major.' " Falaniko chuckles at this. "He put a smiling face next to it."

Command Sgt. Maj. Ioakimo Falaniko and his wife, Maliana, accept the flag that had been draped over their son's coffin at Arlington National Cemetery services. Pvt. Jonathan Falaniko, 20, whose life goal was to be like the dad he admired, was killed in Iraq. Jonathan Falaniko Associated Press

"He says, 'I guess I have a lot of shoes to fill being the son of a Command Sergeant Major. I realize that you get a lot of respect being the man you are. I realize how you've been to your soldiers and how you've earned their respect. In my opinion, I think they respect you because you are a hard man and you take this job seriously, not because of your rank.' " Falaniko pauses, and you can hear the sound of the paper being folded on the other end of the phone. "So that's what he said about his dad."

In February, 20-year-old Jonathan Falaniko followed in his father's distinguished footsteps by enlisting in the Army.

"I accompanied him when he was sworn in the Army," says Command Sgt. Maj. Falaniko, who took his own oath almost 27 years ago. "That was a proud moment in my life, when I stood next to Jona, and while he was sworn in, I reaffirmed my oath at the same time because we were saying the same oath. It was a very proud moment for me and him."

Jonathan entered military service on May 1. He became a combat engineer, like his father, and did his basic training at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri. His initial assignment was at Fort Riley in Kansas. In September, he was deployed to Iraq to join Company A of the 70th Engineer Battalion, his father's battalion. Falaniko says he was shocked.

"I said, 'Yeah! I get my son here!'

"We had a father-and-son team in Baghdad. He falls under me. I'm his brigade command sergeant major."

The day his son arrived in Iraq, Falaniko went to the airport to meet him.

"I gave him a hug and I told him, 'Welcome to Baghdad, son. I'm proud of you.' "

Falaniko saw Jonathan alive just one more time.

On Oct. 11, Falaniko went to pick up Jonathan for a VTC, a video teleconference set up for soldiers to talk to their families. Jonathan spoke to his mother and his two sisters, Otilia, 16, and Adeline, 17. As usual, he told his sisters to be good and stay out of trouble. Jonathan was very family-oriented, his father says. Always looking out for his little sisters, giving them spending money every payday, always making sure chores were done without their being asked or being told.

"During the VTC, his mom says to him, 'Jona, how you doing?' 'I'm doing great, Mom. I'm doing fine.' She asks, 'Are you scared?' 'No,' he says. And he says, 'My dad's right here. He'll keep me straight.' "

That night, Jonathan and his dad stayed up talking until 2 in the morning.

"We talked about family, we talked about how he missed his sisters and his brother. He said, 'I'm gonna help out. I'm going to help my sisters go to school.' "

Father and son also talked about what they saw in Iraq and the meaning they found in their work as engineers.

"He said, 'Man, this country is a mess, but I'm glad we're making an impact.' "

"He saw the living conditions. The place is trash all over the place. The people are poor. Not enough power in the electricity, which the engineers are placing a priority effort in restoring the electricity. The sewage and the water in the pipeline.

"That's what the engineers do. And also rebuilding and refurnish and remodel a lot of schools, and we have 700 schools we have to do. The schools are littered with ordnance. I mean, artillery rounds, you name it. We had to clear all of those out, the UXO or unexploded ordnance, we had to remove that out and restore the classrooms.

"I told him, 'Son, it's very dangerous out here. I want you to be safe and I want you to focus on what you do every day. The bad guys are out there. They're watching us. And there's a chance that one of us or both of us are gonna get hurt or get killed.' He understood the dangers of our chosen profession. He knows the dangers of being a soldier. He said, 'Dad, don't worry about me. I'm good. I'm prepared. I'll be ready.' "

Two days before he died, Jonathan called his older brother, Niko.

"He said, 'Man, it's dangerous out here. There's a 50-50 chance of me getting hit by an IED (improvised explosive device)' but he said, 'I'm not scared. I'm ready.' And he said he would just continue doing his job."

It was Sept. 28 when Jonathan arrived in Iraq. Less than a month later, on Oct. 27, he was killed by rocket-propelled grenade. He had been in the service less than six months.

On the day Jonathan died, Command Sgt. Maj. Falaniko had been monitoring the radio traffic and he heard about the incident.

"I knew there was five soldiers in that unit, but I didn't know that one of them was him. When I got the call that my commander and I need to be there immediately, the message came out 'priority: urgent' and I knew, being around the Army, being a soldier and knowing the system, when you hear that call, you expect the worst.

"When I got there, the doctor said he did not make it. He died immediately, on the scene. He got hit pretty bad. I looked at his injury. It was real bad. In fact, where he was sitting, that's where the rocket-propelled grenade went through the vehicle, put a hole on that side, and exited, another huge hole on the other side of the vehicle, so Jona, he took that impact. Five other soldiers were wounded. Three were treated and released. Two are still in the hospital. They're recovering right now. But all five of them are gonna live, so Jona is the only one we lost that day."

On Friday, Command Sgt. Maj. Ioakimo Falaniko and his wife, Maliana, buried Jonathan. Falaniko is from the village of Amanave, American Samoa; Maliana is from Aua, though she has family in Hawai'i. Jonathan's hometown is listed as Pago Pago, though he was born in Germany and grew up on military bases in Missouri, North Carolina, Texas and Washington state. Jonathan's final resting place is Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia, where he was buried with military honors. Jonathan was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star, the Purple Heart, the Army Commendation Medal, the National Defense Service Medal and the Army Service Ribbon.

"He's my hero," says Falaniko. "My son is my hero."

The Falaniko family will spend some time together back in Germany where they are assigned, and then Command Sgt. Maj. Falaniko will head back to Iraq, back to his job.

"The Army's been great for me," Falaniko says. "I love the Army. I understand my loss. And I'm going to continue to be a soldier."

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.