IHOP Shooting: Guardsmen remember fallen soldier

Since returning from Afghanistan in April 2010, Paul Kinsey and Christian Riege both settled into full-time positions of leadership with the Joint Forces Unit of the Nevada Army National Guard in Carson City.

"I know it sounds corny, but we were together again," Kinsey said. "It was like, 'Yeah, we made it.'"

The Joint Forces Unit offered stable employment with little chance of deploying to a combat zone for the two veterans, who served together off and on throughout their military careers.

"His life was about as normal as it had been in years," Master Sgt. Kinsey said. "He had a girl he loved, and he was able to see his kids whenever he wanted. He had a job that feels pretty much like a normal job, and there's a comfort level like you're living a real life - part of the community."

It was a contrast to life in Afghanistan.

"Your awareness is up every day," Kinsey explained. "Even when you're sleeping. Noises that wouldn't wake you up when you're at home wake you up there. As Chris does, when he went into that combat zone, his awareness was so high."

But the heightened awareness wasn't needed in Carson City. Back home for more than a year, Riege finally felt safe.

He had no way of anticipating that a routine breakfast meeting would shatter that security.

Tuesday morning, Riege was one of four people killed when gunman Eduardo Sencion opened fire at the IHOP restaurant in Carson City. Seven others were injured before Sencion, 32, killed himself. Among the dead were two fellow guardsmen, Sgt. 1st Class Miranda McElhiney, 31, and Maj. Heath Kelly, 35.

Riege, 38, was posthumously promoted to master sergeant Wednesday.

"If this had been a year ago, Chris would have seen that guy coming from across the parking lot," Kinsey said. "He would notice something like that."

Although Riege was often described as quiet and soft-spoken, Kinsey said there was a lot more to the soldier he met in 1995 and grew to value as a friend.

"You can't just label him with one word or one phrase," Kinsey said. "Still waters run deep."

He described Riege as witty, intelligent and generous.

"I saw that guy give until it hurt him," Kinsey said.

Since he met Riege, Kinsey said, Riege made it clear it was his goal to deploy to a combat zone "to test his mettle."

After a deployment to Fort Irwin, Calif., in 2004, the two had the opportunity to voluntarily deploy to Iraq. They both planned to go, but at the last minute Riege decided his kids needed him at home.

"I think it was one of the toughest decisions of his life," Kinsey said.

Rather than being bitter, Riege gave Kinsey his sunglasses, his favorite knife and body armor.

"He wanted a piece of him to go with me," Kinsey said. "When I got back, he gave me his favorite gun."

And it wasn't just physical things he shared freely.

Kinsey recalls a time when Riege carved out a chessboard in the sand of the Mojave Desert during a training. They fashioned chess pieces out of spent ammunition.

After beating Kinsey several times, Riege revealed he was a master chess player.

"After playing with me a bit, he went on to teach me," Kinsey said. "He was just like that."

Riege, a fitness buff, also made a game of exercise. While serving in Afghanistan, he set a goal to do 200 pushups a day, but soon decided that was too easy.

Sgt. Andrew Gregory, who roomed with Riege in Afghanistan and looked to the veteran soldier as a mentor, said one day Riege made it to "2,300 and some change."

Gregory got up to 1,200 one day.

"I said, 'I'm done,'" Gregory recalled. "But he said, 'No, you're so close to 1,300,' so I did that. He kept saying that until I ended up doing more than 1,500."

Riege's leadership inspired Gregory in and out of military life.

"You could tell when he was stressed, but he'd never be angry," Gregory said. "You could always get him to smile and laugh."

While Riege could bring fellow soldiers to tears of laughter with his impersonation of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Kinsey said, they always knew there was a possibility they could die in combat.

"We had delusions of grandeur," he said. "We always said if we died, we would die as warriors defending what we believed in. This makes it really hard."

He said it might be easier to cope with his friend's death had it been in combat or terrorist- or gang-related.

"Then there would be something I could focus my anger on," Kinsey said. "Right now, that's eluding me. I don't know how to wrap my arms around it. That's the hardest part, other than being really, really sad that my friend is gone.

"But he did go out a warrior."