PFC Scott L. Roth Written by: Robert Cameron September 21, 1993       In the summer of 1990, I was assigned to the 401st Military Police Company stationed at Fort Clayton in Panama. I had the great honor of being placed in charge of the company arms room. The arms room was made of four brick walls with no windows and one door. It was cold and dreary and smelt very musty. This room is where all the ammunition and weapons are kept when the M.P.s are off duty. The company commander assigned two privates under me to work the arms room. It was a four-man job, but I had to make it work with three.       While working in the arms room one evening, the company commander summoned me to his office. As I walked into his office, I noticed that one of the new soldiers we acquired a couple of weeks ago was sitting outside. I could tell by the look on my commander's face that this was not a social call. My commander started to brief me about the new soldier outside his office. The soldier's name was Private Scott Roth; he was eighteen years old and had just graduated from the Military Police Academy. As a military police officer, Scott had little or no experience whatsoever. My commander then informed me that Scott's wife had just filed for divorce. He said from that point on, Scott was not allowed to have a weapon or ammunition until the divorce was finalized. This precaution is standard military procedure for M.P. that are involved in divorces. All his M.P. duties were discontinued and he was assigned to work under me in the arms room. I was also to report any drastic changes in his behavior that could be related to his divorce.       As I walked out of the office, Scott looked up at me. I could tell by the look on his face that he felt these measures were unnecessary. It was almost as if he was being punished for something that was out of his control. I tried to keep a positive spin on things. I told him to follow me and explained that I would be his new boss. I also explained that his M.P. duties were temporarily put on hold until his divorce was finalized. I told him that I would train him and he would serve under me for a couple of weeks and then be released to his normal duties.       Scott was a hard worker. Although he did his duties with perfection, he was reserved and rarely spoke to anyone. Since he was in Panama and his wife was in the United States, the divorce took longer to finalize than originally anticipated. It took a couple of weeks, but Scott slowly opened up to me. Soon after, I found that his parents had divorced and his mother had died of cancer when he was only 15 years old. He and his sister lived with his grandmother while his mother was ill. After his mother passed, Scott and his sister moved in with their father until he graduated high school. Scott married his high school sweetheart when he turned eighteen then joined the Army. As I learned of the troubles in his life, it helped me understand why he was so reserved. I remember thinking the reason he worked so hard was because he was trying to forget the turmoil at home.       The first time I saw him smile was when I told him of my adventures since I joined the Army. As time went by and I gained his trust, we began socializing together. I realized that all he needed was a good friend; however, it bothered me that after two months he still did not socialize with other people in our unit.       On December 19, 1989, our unit was put on full combat alert. Scott came into my office with the same look on his face that I had seen the first day we met. He told me that the commander had told him he might not be allowed into combat. The commander was in a meeting, but wanted to see me when it was over. Scott thought the commander was going to ask my opinion regarding his ability to participate in combat. He then begged me to help him, after all this is what he was trained for and he did not want to be left out.       As I sat, for what seemed an eternity, outside the commander's office, I debated my response to the question of Scott's readiness for combat. I thought that if I said he was not ready then he would revert back to the state he was in when I met him. He would once again be alone and rejected. Against my better judgment, I convinced the commander to allow Scott to participate in combat.       On December 19, 1989 at 11:45 p.m., our unit was the first American unit to be dispatched into combat. Before we left, I prayed with Scott and asked if he was sure that this was what he wanted, because I still had a chance to get him out if not. He thanked me for allowing him the opportunity to prove himself as a soldier, and that he was sure this was what he wanted. We were being dispatched to different places, so I gave him one last item of advice. I told him to listen to the other guys in his squad and he would be all right. We talked about swapping stories and have a few beers once this was all over.       On December 20, 1989 at 12:15 a.m., Scott Roth was struck three times in the chest with enemy rounds and died instantly. He was survived by an estranged wife and a pending divorce. Private First Class Scott Roth was just one of the soldiers killed in Operation Just Cause. Those who didn't know him remember him as a hero, but I will always remember him as my friend.