Christopher “Kit” Löwe
For weeks, Christopher “Kit” Löwe, a forward observer with the 1-108th Cavalry Regiment, would pass out prepackaged snacks to Afghan kids running alongside his Humvee while he drove through their villages.
“But surprisingly enough, the kids were all saying, ‘pen, pen,’” Löwe said. “So, eventually, we would just grab bags of pens and pencils from the base and hand them out along with the snacks. But that vision of those kids asking for something to write with stuck with me.”
Four months later, in August 2009, Löwe was on a combat mission when he heard gunfire on a roof opposite the building he was searching. His friend, Marine Capt. Matthew Freeman, also from his hometown of Savannah, Georgia, and the unit’s medic were on the roof. Freeman had sustained a grave wound to the head. With bullets still whizzing past him, Löwe climbed to the roof to provide aid.
That’s when a bullet tore through his right thigh, severing his sciatic nerve.
“The target was still shooting at us, but we had some coverage concealment so I guarded the position until reinforcements could get there,” he said. “Captain Freeman’s remains were there and I couldn’t leave him. I felt as if I were bleeding out and it was so hot up there, so I took off my armor and thought if I’m going to die, at least I’m going to be comfortable.”
Löwe remained on the roof protecting the medic, and his buddy’s remains, until reinforcements arrived and neutralized the target. For his actions on the roof, Capt. Freeman received the Purple Heart posthumously and Löwe received the Bronze Star Medal for Valor and the Purple Heart.
After two surgeries at military hospitals in Afghanistan and Germany, Löwe was eventually sent to Walter Reed Army National Medical Center in Washington, D.C., where he underwent another four surgeries over the next nine months. It was during his time there that he gave more thought to the Afghan kids asking for pens.
“I was always taught since I was young that you should leave this place a little better than you found it,” Löwe said.
With the help of a few of his teammates still in Afghanistan, Capt. Freeman’s mother, who was a teacher at a Georgia elementary school, and a military acquaintance in Tampa, Florida, he founded the nonprofit School Supplies for Afghan Children. While he knew collecting the supplies would be the easy part, finding a way to send them to Afghanistan was going to be a bit more of a challenge.
With help from a mutual friend while Löwe was still undergoing rehab in D.C., Löwe was able to connect with then second lady Jill Biden at an event that featured an author who had built schools in Afghanistan.
“Jill Biden was very receptive to the idea of the nonprofit and she definitely helped open the doors for us,” Löwe said.
He later met with the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the chief of staff of the U.S. Army. The Obama-Biden White House officials, along with the Afghanistan ambassador to the U.S., were eventually able to approve and provide the essential support to transport the supplies on military planes.
“I can’t even imagine how much it would have cost us to mail school supplies to Afghanistan in large quantities on our own,” he said.
He was pleased when a friend in Afghanistan forwarded photos of the initial deliveries to him so that he could see the result of his efforts. By April 2010, he was released from Walter Reed, no longer in need of a wheelchair, but confined to a knee brace for stability. He spent the next two years finishing his college education before landing a job as a lacrosse coach at Georgia Southern University and then the Maine Maritime Academy.
Christopher “Kit” Löwe
A lacrosse player since high school, Löwe then started a wheelchair lacrosse team for the U.S. Army. Löwe continues his efforts to get the sport added to the Paralympic Games. He also travels all over the country raising money for veterans’ organizations, including the Semper Fi Fund.
After his girlfriend took a job as an athletic trainer at the University of Montana, Löwe followed several months later. He currently works for the Fort Harrison VA Center, where he helps veterans transition from the military to civilian employment.
Through it all, he attributes his wicked sense of humor to his ability to deal with the occasional migraines, the severe nerve pain from his injury and occasional bouts of PTSD that still plague him.
“I realize that sometimes in life, when you’re caught in a bad situation and there doesn’t seem to be much you can do about it, humor helps me get through it,” Löwe said.
That, and an incredible sense of giving back.
