The soldiers lined up in formation, reuniting after a perilous mission during the closing days of the war in Afghanistan — but their commander was not there.
Colonel’s last heroic act: Ensuring Minnesota Guard honored for Afghan mission
Family members, fellow soldiers, remember Jacob Helgestad, a colonel in the Minnesota National Guard who led a dangerous and chaotic 12-day mission as the U.S. pulled out of Afghanistan.
After leading 425 Minnesotans through one of the most dramatic and dangerous moments during the end of the Afghan conflict in 2021, Col. Jacob Helgestad, 52, had died a few months earlier on May 17 after battling a rare form of cancer.
His death left a void in the lives of his wife, two children and the soldiers who deployed with him and would follow him anywhere. But even in his final days and while undergoing chemotherapy, Helgestad fought for his soldiers to be recognized.
The soldiers of the 1st Combined Arms Battalion, 194th Armor Regiment, were awarded the highest honor a unit can receive in a September ceremony at Camp Ripley, the Minnesota National Guard’s training grounds.
Helgestad, in the final days of his life, had pushed hard for the unit to receive the Presidential Unit Citation, said Maj. Michael Popp, who deployed to Afghanistan with him.
“It was so important to him that his soldiers got recognized for what they had accomplished,” said Capt. Andrea Tsuchiya, who worked with him on the award paperwork. “He was not going to let his soldiers, the things that they had done in Afghanistan, be forgotten.”
The soldiers who deployed with Helgestad on that short-notice mission to the Kabul airport said they will always remember the leadership he showed then. Capt. Charlie Anderson, who was on that mission, said he keeps a picture of Helgestad and other soldiers from the deployment at his desk. It’s a reminder of the man he said kept cool as he led them through hell.
Anderson said he thinks about that day in 2021, right before he and other soldiers in his unit boarded the plane for Afghanistan. Helgestad took them aside and told them: “No one will have to wait on us. You’re ready, and we’re gonna go do what the nation is asking us to do.”
Then they left for Afghanistan, where the Taliban were taking over the country as U.S. troops withdrew. Early on the morning of Aug. 18 — less than 48 hours after the terrifying scene of fleeing Afghans clinging to an American military plane had captured the world’s attention — a C-17 filled with Minnesota National Guard soldiers dove into the darkness of Kabul on a steep combat landing.
The troops secured the north side of the airport, a section about four city blocks wide. Along with the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division, they provided security so an evacuation of about 40,000 souls could take place from their part of the airport. Minnesota National Guard snipers manned five security towers alongside Afghan soldiers to prevent the airport from being overrun — it was a 12-day sleepless blur.
Early on the morning of Aug. 30, the last plane of Minnesotans was leaving, and Helgestad left Kabul aboard a C-17 as one of the last American troops in Afghanistan. “We participated in a generational event,” he told the Star Tribune afterward.
Helgestad was more than just a commander to the soldiers who knew him, many of whom had served with him on multiple deployments over the years. He was analytical and calm, but also quippy and quick-witted.
To his family, he was simply “Dad.”
“He was always ‘Army smart,’” said his daughter Lucy Helgestad, 20. Her father could plan an intricate mission involving hundreds of soldiers, but give him furniture from Ikea to assemble and he’d be lost.
Helgestad met his wife, Karry, at Minnesota State Mankato. A sixth-grade teacher, Karry Helgestad said she never thought she’d marry an Army guy, but he took care of her. His deployments piled up — Saudi Arabia, Kosovo, two years in Iraq. She recalled several weeks without a call from him as he led troops in Iraq’s Anbar province, having nightmares that something might have happened to him.
Karry Helgestad said the only time she saw her husband struggle during his storied military career was when he worried about being a good dad, when he wondered if the deployments were stealing pivotal years of his children’s lives away from him. And it was hard for him to come home and not be in charge, but he tried his best. “He was a great dad,” Karry Helgestad said.
Helgestad and her two children went to the September ceremony at Camp Ripley where the soldiers of the 1-194th received the Presidential Unit Citation. She said fighting for his soldiers to receive that award was one of the final tasks her husband wanted to do before he died. Her husband always thought of his soldiers before himself, she said.
Helgestad recalled the ceremony, just months after her husband’s death, as bittersweet. It had been hard watching her husband — the strong and healthy soldier — wither as he fought cancer. The grief is still raw, and memories of him fresh — even more so on holidays, when she thinks of his absence.
But at the ceremony, something amazing happened. People came up to Helgestad, sharing stories of how her husband had helped them get into graduate school, start a business, navigate life’s challenges. It was overwhelming, she said. She had no idea how many people her husband had helped.
This year, on the 11th day of the 11th month, Karry Helgestad will observe her first Veterans Day since her husband died. At first, she said, she didn’t know what she’d do, as most years she’d spend the day supporting her husband as he gave a speech, often about valor and honor, somewhere.
But after thinking it over, Helgestad said she knows what she’ll do this Veterans Day. She’ll reach out to the people who knew her husband, let them know someone’s thinking of them.
Because that’s what “Jake” would have done.
“He was made to be a soldier, and he was made to impact other peoples’ lives,” she said. “And I think that’s his purpose on Earth. That’s what it was, even though it was short-lived.”
Reid Forgrave contributed to this story.
There have been several deadly encampment shootings this fall, reviving the debate between city officials, advocates and others on the best response to crime associated with encampments.