A Lewiston soldier’s family learns of his role in the war through newspaper stories.
Rick Michaud was one sergeant in an invasion force of a quarter-million. Like so many, his journey into Iraq was shrouded to his family back home.

So when his name began appearing in one of the country’s biggest newspapers, his family was shocked.

“It was amazing to see his name and know that he was all right,” said Rick’s father, Ray Michaud of Lewiston.

The last time he had spoken with his son was during the preparations for war, a quick call only minutes before he left Fort Hood, Texas, for Kuwait.

Rick said “goodbye” and told his father that he would try to call. Then, he was gone.

The U.S. began its attack on March 20. Rick Michaud’s group – 4th Infantry, G Troop, 10th Cavalry – spent the first two weeks in Kuwait.

That’s where Michaud met Ed Timms, a reporter for the Dallas Morning News. Timms was embedded with the Texas-based Army unit.

Over the next eight weeks, Timms wrote 24 stories about the group. Seven of them quoted the 37-year-old platoon leader from Lewiston.

The stories began reaching Ray Michaud, a former Androscoggin County Sheriff’s deputy, in mid-April.

“I knew where his outfit was most of the time because of TV,” Michaud said. But he couldn’t know what his son was doing until the reporter’s stories began being published.

Timms followed Sgt. 1st Class Michaud and his Black Sheep platoon into combat in Iraq. He described Michaud as a “very professional soldier” who earned the confidence of the people in his group.

“He’s not the soldier who is most likely to follow all the rules,” said Timms, who returned to Dallas in early June. “But you would want him with you in a fight.”

In one instance, the platoon’s Humvees crossed a bridge into an area east of Tikrit and into the sights of armed Iraqis.

“They struck with everything they had,” said Timms, who was with Michaud’s platoon. In five or six seconds, the Iraqis fired between 200 and 300 shots from the shadows.

Michaud led his people out. No one was hit. But the enemy escaped, which frustrated the soldier.

“He takes care of his folks, but he’s also very aggressive,” Timms said. Michaud had earned a Bronze Star for valor during the first Gulf War.

The reporter’s stories portrayed Michaud as a long-timer who has always grappled with the frustrations of war.

To his father, the words were poignant.

“Rick doesn’t want to kill anybody,” said Ray Michaud. “But what do you do? An (Iraqi soldier) will charge a tank in a Ford Pinto or something. You have to shoot back, but you don’t want to.”

Mostly, the stories from Iraq eased the father’s fears that one day he would be visited by someone who said that his son had died.

Ray was a boy of 6 or 7 when his big brother, George, was killed off the coast of Sicily. Ray remembers how the news wounded his mother.

“I wouldn’t wish that on anybody,” said Ray, now 66.

A World War II photo of George Michaud sits on a table in Ray’s living room beside pictures of Rick and his medals.

There’s no word when Rick will leave Iraq.

As of June 16, he was still there. That’s when Rick made his first call home since he arrived in the Middle East.

He had only 10 minutes to speak to his dad before the phone was given to someone else.

“Ten minutes goes by awful fast,” Ray said.

He learned that Rick had received the packages his sister, Debby Cornish of Auburn, had sent. For now, Rick and his group are staying in one of Saddam Hussein’s former palaces.

And they are still facing danger from the Iraqis.

“He said, ‘It’s great if you don’t mind getting shot at every day,'” Ray said.