DELMAR - Capt. Timothy Moshier, whose fatal helicopter crash in Iraq was followed by the release of a bloody propaganda video, was tearfully eulogized Wednesday as a sometimes goofy but always goodhearted friend.
Moshier, 25, and another pilot were killed April 1 when their AH-64D Apache Longbow helicopter crashed about 10 miles southwest of Baghdad during a patrol. The military has said the crash possibly was caused by hostile fire.
Days after the crash, an al-Qaida-affiliated group released a video that showed gunmen shouting “God is Great!” and dragging a burning body from a flaming wreck. The group claimed the body was a U.S. pilot, though military officials have cast doubt on the authenticity of the “despicable” video.
The video was mentioned only in passing during Moshier's funeral mass in suburban Albany.
Instead, friends told hundreds of mourners packing the pews about the young boy who tried to back his mom's car out of the driveway, about the teen who played “cutthroat” Monopoly, the cadet who dressed up as a duck to cheer his West Point classmates, the romantic who proposed to his beloved Katie during a 3 a.m. meteor shower, the new dad changing - and getting grossed out by - his baby's diapers.
“The world seems ... a little less funny without you in it,” said boyhood friend David Austin.
Another friend, Matt Clement, choking on his words, said Timothy would stay alive for his 10-month-old daughter Natalie and all his loved ones as long as they keep telling stories about him.
“I'll always love you, now and forever,” Clement said. Both old friends got long hugs when they left the pulpit from Katie Moshier, who lives with Natalie in Killeen, Texas.
Moshier would have turned 26 on Monday.
Moshier and his fellow pilot, Michael L. Hartwick, of Orrick, Mo., were assigned to the Army's 4th Battalion, 4th Aviation Brigade, 4th Infantry Division at Fort Hood, Texas. He was deployed to Iraq in December.
Moshier graduated from West Point in 2002 and later became a licensed aviator in the AH-64D, Apache Longbow helicopter. Eulogizers said Moshier loved the Army because he felt like he had a job that mattered and was helping people.
“It was always, always, always about us,” said the Rev. Mark Cunningham. “It was never about him.”
Four helicopters in formation rumbled in the bright sky over Moshier's grave before a soldier gave his tearful mother and widow each a folded flag and slipped dog tags over their shoulders.
Days after the crash, an al-Qaida-affiliated group released a video that showed gunmen shouting “God is Great!” and dragging a burning body from a flaming wreck. The group claimed the body was a U.S. pilot, though military officials have cast doubt on the authenticity of the “despicable” video.
The video was mentioned only in passing during Moshier's funeral mass in suburban Albany.
Instead, friends told hundreds of mourners packing the pews about the young boy who tried to back his mom's car out of the driveway, about the teen who played “cutthroat” Monopoly, the cadet who dressed up as a duck to cheer his West Point classmates, the romantic who proposed to his beloved Katie during a 3 a.m. meteor shower, the new dad changing - and getting grossed out by - his baby's diapers.
“The world seems ... a little less funny without you in it,” said boyhood friend David Austin.
Another friend, Matt Clement, choking on his words, said Timothy would stay alive for his 10-month-old daughter Natalie and all his loved ones as long as they keep telling stories about him.
“I'll always love you, now and forever,” Clement said. Both old friends got long hugs when they left the pulpit from Katie Moshier, who lives with Natalie in Killeen, Texas.
Moshier would have turned 26 on Monday.
Moshier and his fellow pilot, Michael L. Hartwick, of Orrick, Mo., were assigned to the Army's 4th Battalion, 4th Aviation Brigade, 4th Infantry Division at Fort Hood, Texas. He was deployed to Iraq in December.
Moshier graduated from West Point in 2002 and later became a licensed aviator in the AH-64D, Apache Longbow helicopter. Eulogizers said Moshier loved the Army because he felt like he had a job that mattered and was helping people.
“It was always, always, always about us,” said the Rev. Mark Cunningham. “It was never about him.”
Four helicopters in formation rumbled in the bright sky over Moshier's grave before a soldier gave his tearful mother and widow each a folded flag and slipped dog tags over their shoulders.
