Giann Carlo Joya-Mendoza remembered

NORTH HOLLYWOOD - On the Fourth of July, his 28th birthday and the 231st of the nation he loved, Sgt. Giann Carlo Joya-Mendoza came home, in a flag-draped coffin.

Born in Honduras and raised in the U.S., Joya-Mendoza became a soldier at age 20. A proud, organized and conscientious man, Joya-Mendoza made the Army his life. After his first stint was up, bored with his civilian accounting job, he chose to re-enlist in 2003 and go to war for the country that had become his home.

He deployed to Iraq last October with Bravo Company of the 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 2nd Infantry Division. He earned a promotion to become a noncommissioned officer and won the respect of his fellow soldiers.

On June 28, while on patrol in Baghdad, he died with four of them, killed by a roadside bomb.

"He really loved the Army," said his stepfather, Orlando Useda. "He didn't need to go back to the Army the second time. He had a good-paying job, but he took a pay cut and he went back."

Joya-Mendoza came to the U.S. as a teenager, attending Birmingham High School before finishing his degree in his native country. He returned to North Hollywood and studied at Los Angeles Community College before joining up in 1999. He wore the Stars and Stripes of his adopted nation on his uniform with pride.

While serving abroad, he began the process of becoming an American citizen. Now, his family hopes to complete it posthumously.

"In this country, we are free, we can do what we want," he once told his mother. "In other countries, they force you to go into the Army."

Joya-Mendoza traveled the world in the military, serving in Germany and South Korea before heading to the Middle East with the 2nd Brigade Combat Team.

At home, he was meticulous in his habits, keeping his clothes, DVDs and coin collections clean and organized at all times. He even found a way to eat tacos and lobster with a fork. His mania for organization served him well in the Army.

"Everything was clean, organized and categorized and yet still he could have fun and be laid back," wrote his friend, Spc. Brian Gill, in remarks delivered at a memorial in Iraq earlier this week. "His DVDs still had the original plastic wrappers on the outside. He spent hours on his class A (uniforms) making sure they were perfect. As gunner, he spent an hour each day brushing off his turret area with a toothbrush. As a sergeant, he already made sure his truck was prepped, clean and ready to go at a moment's notice. ... In fact he went by the book with everything."

Spit-polished and well-pressed in his service, Joya-Mendoza was also a caring family man. As he did each leave, he spent four days with his mother, Maria Ines Mendoza, in February, then spent 12 days with his large, extended family and his girlfriend in Honduras.

Mendoza last heard from her son May 13, picking up the phone just as she left for her 6 a.m. shift at the West Hollywood motel where she works as a supervisor.

"'Mom, happy Mother's Day,' he said, and he sounded so tired," she remembered. "I said, 'Why don't you call more?' And he said, 'I've been busy, but I had to find time to call you.'"

The task in Iraq was grueling, with long days and tough conditions. Joya-Mendoza remained upbeat and committed to the Army. He planned to make it his career.

"He wasn't happy when he was going to work at a regular job," Useda said. "He didn't sleep well, he waited until the last minute before he went to his job. He didn't like sitting behind a desk."

The Army was his way out. He hoped to transfer to an intelligence job after his time in the infantry was up.

Last Thursday, while out on patrol, Joya-Mendoza's unit struck an improvised explosive device. He was killed alongside Sgt. Shin W. Kim, Sgt. Michael J. Martinez, Spc. Dustin L. Workman II and Pfc. Cory F. Hiltz.

Two soldiers came to Mendoza and Useda's home that night, wearing their dress uniforms and bearing bad news. Mendoza spent the past week preparing for her son's return.

On Wednesday, her family held hands as they made their way into a hangar at Bob Hope Airport. Soldiers from the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment at Fort Irwin, in green uniforms, stood at parade rest to the side.

A roar of engines signaled the arrival of the chartered plane. Two airport firetrucks let loose with their hoses to form a memorial arch above the white jet. The family members rose and bowed their heads. Men dabbed at their eyes and put their arms on women's shoulders for support.

After the air crew carefully removed the casket from the hold, the soldiers carried their comrade's body to rest in front of his mother. A sergeant respectfully unfolded the flag and stepped away.

Mendoza walked forward and laid her hand on the white stars and softly wept. After a few more moments for the family, the soldiers carried her son's body back to the hearse. A procession of motor police led the long, black car away. The honor guard saluted as it disappeared from view.

"He thought he was lucky, so I never asked him, 'What do you want in case ... '" Mendoza said, her voice trailing off. "But when I was riding with him, I thought, 'He would have been so proud.' I know him. He would have liked that."

From the LA Daily News

Related Link:
Giann C. Joya Mendoza dies 'of wounds sustained when his unit was attacked in Baghdad by insurgents using improvised explosive devices'