Pledge and prayer first.

Then there is time for greeting old friends – even if they are friends we know only from previous missions. When I see a familiar face at a PGR mission, I am pleased. I may not know the person’s name and may not even find a chance to offer a greeting but I am lifted by our rendezvous.

I’m a regular but not a leader. I attend and cooperate, but I am glad to leave the administration of the PGR to others. Fortunately, there are many others who are skillful and willing. JT is one.

Denise (on the right below) is another.

I find a different pleasure in seeing faces for the first time. Standing with Denise is Comma who is the mother of Kai.

Kai left three months ago for his third tour in Iraq.

Kai will be there for 15 months this time. (The first two had been 12 each.) He is based in Saddam’s hometown, Tikrit, just 30 miles from Bayji. In macro terms, the 82^nd was relieved by the 101^st. In micro terms, Jim came home when Kai replaced him.

High schoolers across the street gathered to consider our display.

Top arrived.

The Guv arrived.

We held our flagline in the cold, overcast morning. Our friends from Westboro had said they would picket, but they never came. The funeral home filled. Then the service began.

There were front rooms where we could wait out of the cold. The honor guard was there too. They were all Staff Sergeants, which is a high rank for this duty.

I saw one fellow moving his hands as he folded an imaginary flag. I have noticed that behavior before and I like to see it. He knew how to fold a flag but he rehearsed anyway. Then he sat.

He is tall like John, Robin’s other son. And he wore a 4^th Infantry Division patch like John. Another member of the honor guard wore the patch of the 82^nd. So I grabbed them up and made them pose for me.

This is a picture of my two step-sons, correct as to heights and insignia. Only the soldiers are different.

They would fire the volleys, carry the casket, fold the flag. If asked, they will travel across an ocean and a continent to face the most dangerous people in the world.

Timothy Hanson did. He lost 35 pounds just so that he would meet the Army’s enlistment requirements. On Monday, January 7^th, he was 15 miles southeast of Baghdad in a tower standing guard at night when he was killed by a sniper.

So we stood in the cold for a few hours and then we furled our flags.

We packed-up and we went home.

It is a small thing we do.

It doesn’t begin to balance the scale.

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