‘Just a patriot’ Gieselmann shares story at EHS Quarterback Club

“I don’t consider myself a hero, I’m just a patriot.”

That is how Lance Gieselmann described himself to those attending a recent Enterprise High School Quarterback Club meeting.

Gieselmann, a former high school and college football player, is a warrior wounded in Iraq and he shared with the group his story.

Gieselmann was an Army specialist serving with A Co., 3-67 Armored Reg. 4th Infantry Division in Iraq on Oct. 28, 2003. That day was a game changer for the Army tanker who was 23 years old at the time.

“That day we were guarding a water pumping station near Balad in Iraq. We had been working on our tank when we discovered that we need a tool that only the mechanics had and the mechanics weren’t going to meet us until 5 p.m. so we decided to play football,” Gieselmann said. “You remember when you were in school and you had the team with all the talent and then you had the team that was left over—that was my team.

“My gunner on my tank, Mike Barrera—his team scored five touchdowns in the first five minutes of playing,” the former Chester High School football team captain said. In Chester, Ill., Gieselmann was on the first football team to reach the second round of state playoffs. He was an All Conference Offensive Guard and played football for Blackburn College in Illinois. Gieselmann, a self-described “smart alec,” didn’t take losing lightly. “It made me so mad,” he recalled with a grin.

“Real” food—also known as not-prepackaged Meals Ready to Eat—and fuel were located several miles away from the water pumping station so the soldiers routinely took turns driving a tank to get supplies. On Oct. 28, 2003, Gieselmann was part of a three-man team who volunteered to make that routine run.

Spec. Isaac Campoy, 21, was the tank driver. “He was the hardest working person I ever met,” Gieselmann said about the soldier whose post military goal was to be a Mixed Martial Arts athlete. Sgt. Michael Barrera, 26, “was in love with that girl from the old Spider Man,” and just wanted to be a career soldier. “He wanted to command his own tank and lead soldiers,” his battle-buddy said.

On that fateful trip, Gieselmann said that he thought he saw a goat on the side of the road. “I thought that was funny, we were out in the middle of nowhere and there’s not supposed to be a goat in the middle of the road,” he said. “And then ‘BOOM.’”

The bomb that had been buried in the sand dissected the tank when it exploded. Gieselmann and Barrera were thrown some 39 feet from the tank, landing in a canal. Campoy had been instantly killed.

Paralyzed from mid chest down, Gieselmann noticed that one of his feet was lying near his head. “I thought ‘That’s not good,’” he said. “I was 23 years old and kind of a smart aleck, a world beater.

“I’m on a tank and you can’t hurt me,” was his mindset, he said. “And I’m thinking I’m going to get to the top of that tank, I’m going to radio for help and I’m going to get a cool medal out of the deal and I’m going to show it off to all of my buddies so they can be jealous.

“That’s what’s going on in my mind,” Gieselmann said. “Not that I’m going to die.”

His mind was changed within minutes, however, when he heard a vehicle stop, the occupants get out and chamber their weapons. “I lay there, I prayed, I thanked God for the time he had given me and I prayed, ‘Lord just let me see my wife and my son one more time before I die,’” Gieselmann said.

Something “spooked” the Iraqis and they quickly drove away.

Forty minutes passed before Gieselmann felt the rumble of an American tank. In the end, only Gieselmann survived.

Shrapnel had torn through Gieselmann’s torso and face. He had a head injury, a broken back and his left leg was badly mangled.

Gieselmann lost consciousness and remembers waking up three-and-a-half weeks later to find himself in an American hospital in Germany. His left leg was amputated from above the knee and his right leg was paralyzed. He was flown to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., and told he would never walk again.

After two weeks, he was taken to a Veterans Affairs hospital in Memphis, Tenn., where in four months he would be walking with assistance. On a return to Walter Reed, he was fitted with a prosthetic leg.

Getting back to life wasn’t as easy, Gieselmann said. “Deep depression set in when I returned from Iraq,” he said. “I felt a large amount of survivor’s guilt and bitterness from my injuries but through my walk with the Lord I’m understanding my part in this world and that I have a new mission.”

Gieselmann lives with his wife, Ashlee, and seven children outside of Hartford in Geneva County. He speaks at churches when invited and takes opportunities to minister to others about Jesus Christ. “I’m only here today because God’s willed it,” he said. “He calls us not to be timid so I’m called to spread the Gospel wherever I go.”

The former high school and college football player said he used to coach city recreation league football and softball. “But now I’m just enjoying the games from the sidelines—which seems more stressful,” Gieselmann said, with a smile.

Gieselmann enjoys hunting and fishing—freshwater and saltwater—with his family and local wounded warrior group. “I’m not a minister, I just love the Lord,” he said. “I enjoy sharing my testimony hoping people see Christ through me.

“I’m just a patriot and my patriotism stems a lot from small hometown good football coaches and the camaraderie that I had with them,” Gieselmann said. “I learned responsibility as a (football) team captain and self sacrifice as a team captain.

“I learned values, responsibility and accountability as a team captain,” Gieselmann said. “(Values learned) playing football led me through the military and a lot of where I am now.”

“Jesus died and rose again. A lot of people don’t want to hear that these days. It’s sad because He loves you so much,” Gieselmann said. “My hope is that my testimony can reach people who before were unreachable.”

At the EHS Quarterback Club meeting, Gieselmann demonstrated the impact of a military roll call with soldiers missing by asking some of his audience to role-play various enlisted personnel. “Your loved ones are deployed and one day you get a phone call that their tank was just blown up. They are dead,” Gieselmann said.

An “all accounted for” roll call was followed by silence when the names of those killed in action were called. The silence was followed with sound of a bugler playing “Taps.”

“That, boys, is why we stand for the flag,” Gieselmann said.