I have been in the Army for nearly 12 years now and I have had the oppurtunity to do some things that I never thought I'd do before I enlisted. I've been to foreign countries. I've flown on helicopters and airplanes conducting missions. I've mentored and trained some of the most outstanding people I have ever known and helped them progress further in their careers than I have (without a hint of jealousy on my part). I've seen soldiers react to situations without a thought of personal safety, just to help a buddy.
But on the other hand, I don't think I've ever done anything harder than attend a funeral for a friend. As I have said, I have had the privalege of serving with some of the most outstanding people I will ever have the chance of knowing, and in my nearly 12 years of service, I have lost four of those friends. Now, that may actually be a number compared to some of the people that served in Iraq/Kuwait in 92 and is very likely a small number for some of the service members that have served in Iraq or Afghanistan over the past 2 years. But to me, it's four too many.

Of those four friends, I was only able to attend two of the funerals. Two of them took place in Korea while I was stationed elsewhere, but the loss hit me both times. While I was in Hawaii, two more friends were lost.

One was a pilot that I served with in Korea. He had given up the chance to fly fixed wing airplanes in order to come home to Hawaii where he flew Blackhawk helicopters. That's a pretty good step down in the Army, but to him it was worth it. He wanted to serve near his home and family. I ran into him a few times around base and we always stopped and talked for a few minutes.

The other soldier was a man I had only met months before his motorcycle accident. We worked together during a computer exercise where we spent a lot of time waiting for things to happen and the shift workers just talked. He was in another company of the battalion and we talked a lot about job differences and when that ran out, we talked about personal similarities. One of the great things about being a soldier is that we all have common points that cause us to become instantly closer to people that we are not immediately irritated by. And that was the case here. I felt a great sense of loss when we were told at morning formation that he had died over the prior weekend.

Probably the hardest thing I have ever done in my military career was attending the funerals. The ceremony and symbolism of military funerals is almost a sacred thing. From the pictures of the soldiers, with the boots, weapon, bayonet, helment and ID tags, to the final eulogies and playing of taps, the ceremonies are emotionally devastating and yet beautiful in a martial sense.

The two moments of a military funeral that have the largest effect on the gathering are the last role call and the gun salute. I don't know if I can put into words the weight of these events but they are so powerful. Towards the end of the ceremony, the units First Sergeant will come forward and call off two-three names of individuals from the units. I don't know how these individuals can do this with the knowledge of what they are actually doing, but at both ceremonies the participants were able to answer with a loud and clear "Here". Then the 1SG calls out the named of the deceased soldier once, twice, and thrice. The silence between those calls is a physical weight on my chest that makes it difficult to breath. I know it makes no sense but you can actually hear and feel the silence despite weeping from the assembled people. Then the silence is broken by the gun salute. Even if you can hear the commands given by the firing party NCOIC, the shots are still a surprise and the physical effect on the people is immense. You can feel the volleys go through you. I have seen the strongest men and women I knew, through my own burning eyes, hold their ground until the salute and then break down. Even as I write this, the emotion of the event is a bit overwhelming. And while Taps can not have much more of an effect after these two other actions, I can never listen to that song without thinking of the friends I have lost.

The whole point of this post though is this: for the months of July and August, I have been identified as an NCOIC for funeral detail. That means that everytime a veteran passes away, or a soldier falls in Iraq and returns home to the central California area, I will have to take part in the funeral. And while this is actually an honor to be chosen for, I still have a feeling of dread. As the NCOIC, my job is fairly simple. I have to train up the rest of the detail. Make coordinations on site to find out exactly what the family wants to happen (fold the flag, pre-fold the flag, gun salute, no gun salute, that sort of thing). During the ceremony, the NCOIC very often has little to do until the end as the firing party has it's own NCO that issues all commands. My job will be to take the flag after it's folded and present it to the next of kin and say, "On behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation, I present to you this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service rendered by your loved one." Pretty simple thing, right? I have no qualms saying this right now - this scares the hell out of me. I am going to have to find a way to separate myself from the emotion of the event and yet, still have to mean the words I say. All the while, looking someone in the eye, someone who at that point is greiving so very much. I hope and pray that I can find the strength to perform my duty in a manner that would make my four friends proud.