In Memory

Today I wasn't expecting too much. I knew the battalion was holding a memorial service for all those lost, and that the family's of the fallen would be there. It was a closed event, open only to the families and the units that had deployed overseas itself. I thought it would be one of those usual boring events with long speeches and back-patting by high level officers who would each congratulate one another like they always did whenever there was an gathering of them. I was wrong. And I was taken by surprise by something that happened during the event. I met the mother, father and wife of my now deceased platoon commander, Capt. Richard Steve Leary.

The platoon was called forward, and gathered around the couple. Everyone was shaking Mr. Leary's hand, offering up a word here or there. When it came my turn, I gave a blank expression a moment as I found myself standing in front of the old man, who looked much like Capt. Leary only older, and all I could do was say, "I don't know what to say." He looked at me and nodded, as if understanding. It was then that his wife stepped up to me, and she looked me in the eyes. Again, I was at a loss as I took her hand. And I again said "I don't know what to say." Only I continued this time. "I have no words. I can't say anything to make you feel better about the loss, or even to console you. I'm sorry." She, much like her husband before her, nodded, but said to me that it didn't matter and that she understood and was proud of me for my actions regardless of what I could or couldn't offer. I had done what I could, and for that, she had been grateful.

It struck me later how much it had hurt me when I had lost Capt. Leary in Afghanistan. How difficult it was to carry his stretcher out during the firefight. How difficult it was to take in that evening when I was told he had died during the chopper flight into Kandahar Airfield. And I couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been to lose a son or a husband. And I felt somewhat ashamed because I had been so selfish with my thoughts and feelings. And now that I think about it, was I still justified in those feelings? And I don't feel there is an easy answer, because a 'yes' implies I'm callous, and a 'no' says that my feelings don't matter. In the end, it was an eye opener, and a digging up of emotions I had for the most part buried.

But, hopefully, I never forget. I cannot allow myself to forget his sacrifice to me and the platoon I was in, or to his country. To do so would be to dishonor him, his family, and everything he had done.

In Memory of Capt. Richard Steve Leary.