Before I went to Fort McCoy with Robin, it was described to me as “the Fort Bragg of the Reserve”. Well, Fort Bragg is the Fort Bragg of the regular army.

Bragg was home for Jim when he was part of the 82^nd Airborne Division. The adjacent Pope AFB is usually busy serving the training needs of the paratroopers. Special Ops Command is located at Bragg and so are the Special Forces.

John is attached to the Special Forces. He moved his wife, daughter and new son into base housing near Pope over the Independence Day weekend because he will soon go to the Philippines. Two infantry tours in Iraq is enough.

So I have visited Fort Bragg. Robin has visited there many times. Everyone there is either just about to go to war or just back from war. To all soldiers it is sacred soil.

On base one half mile east of John’s new home is Sand Hills Veteran’s Cemetery. Travis Hunsberger will be buried there.

It is a place reserved for heroes.

Of course Travis, only 24 years old, was a soldier for only the last four years of his short life. For the first twenty, he was a northern Indiana boy with a mother, a father, a sister and a brother. Before his body would be taken to Fort Bragg, a funeral would be held in his childhood hometown.

The total enrollment of his high school for all four grades is just 800 students. Travis was just beginning his last year there when the September 11^th attacks hit.

What could be more uplifting than this handsome, strong lad going off for his second deployment in Afghanistan?

What could be more sad than him reaching his end in a strange place called Tarin Kowt? “Such a waste.”

A waste? Was this promising life wasted? That is what many will say, especially with the election of a new Commander-in-Chief less than four months away. Robin and I just photographed the big parade in our little town. This year I saw more floats advocating “peace” than previous years. For many people, especially those of the Vietnam generation, “peace” is a codeword that means, “I don’t care whether we win or lose. Just pull the soldiers out.”

Well, I went to his childhood hometown. I listened to his funeral service. I learned what Travis thought about that.

When Travis was amid his first deployment to Afghanistan, his sister was working on an essay for her senior year at Northwestern. Kelsey interviewed Travis by email. She asked him about what we are doing in Afghanistan. She wanted to know for her paper, but also she wanted to know. During the funeral service we were told that neither Kelsey nor her parents knew what Travis thought about policy. When he left college to enlist they were all supportive, but an email from Travis was the first time they understood his motivation. This is an excerpt from his email that was read during his funeral:

I strongly believe that this war is very necessary. It is a defining point of our nation. It shows the rest of the world how much we are willing to sacrifice and the lengths we are willing to go to stand our ground and not allow this aggression to stand in any form; whether it be through outright acts of violence upon us or any of our allies, or through threats meaning to cause fear in the hearts of our citizens – intended to divide us.

Some people are outraged at the loss of their loved ones to this cause, but when 9/11 happened everyone was outraged, scared and sad. Everyone thought someone should do something about it. Well, we have. Some of us have put our lives on the line so we can do something about it, and we are, I promise you that we are making a difference one day at a time.

Everyone that fights contributes something different, yet at the same time, he or she puts the same thing on the line – a life. Some are married, some aren’t; some have kids, some don’t. ALL have but one life to give. There is no quick solution, only a guarantee that more lives will be lost, more tears will be shed here and over there, and that we will move one step closer to the end…this is not a game of win or lose – it is a constant struggle of standing our ground as a country and showing those who would see us destroyed that we are a country united even though the war is half a world away.

So, on a Tuesday morning, I left for a long ride through heavy rain. After I negotiated the areas of heavy Chicago traffic and construction I had time to think. How would I explain myself to someone who wanted to know why PGRiders go to so much trouble to attend the funeral of someone they never met? “Well, he died for me and he never met me.”

I stopped on the west side of Nappanee to organize myself and get my bearings. I took my first photograph. Rain does not photograph well but you can see the dreary sky and the busy downspout.

I rolled in right at the specified staging time. The next three photos show the local leadership – the first is Denny Grove. He has known the Hunsberger family for years. He knew Travis. This was his fourth mission and his first as Ride Captain but he already well understood that we are not a social club.

We don’t have dues and we don’t have meetings. We don’t need the Roide Captain to concern himself with our safety or our comfort. What we want from him is to arrange us in a dramatic presentation for the mourners.

As the family and other guests arrived, the passed under a giant American flag suspended between the extended ladders of two firetrucks. They then pass between our two facing ranks of flagholders. And only then may they park. Well done, Denny.

The funeral was at 1500 but we were in place by 1300 so that the early-arriving family would witness our display. The rain stopped. Most of us have stood in flaglines many times before and we settled into our places.

I don’t often attend missions this far from home, but it was a pleasure to recognize many of the local reliables. The dismal day overshadowed our formation.

After the family traveled between us we held our places and there was time for the portraits before other guests were expected. These are a few of the sad but purposeful faces in our flaglines that Tuesday morning.

Unfortunately, those above were only half of us. Russ Bauer, Senior Ride Captain for NE Indiana stopped me before I finished. It wasn’t about PGR policy or anything related to the mission that morning – just personal animus, all on his part. It doesn’t look like it will be resolved.

I thought about Travis beyond the petty egos of this world and returned to my flag for the two hours. Danny stood across from me holding his flag, the one of us whose purity of intention was most evident. After a while, he pulled a cooler of bottled water down one rank and up the other. A little later, he did it again. He reminded me of what I am sure Kevin will be in a few years.

When the service began I went inside to watch. I came back out just ahead of the congregation and stood with the PGR for the rifle salute. Then the PGR led the hearse back to the funeral home.

Soon I was on my way back home. Heavy rains were ahead for me but God had suspended the fierce weather in Nappanee and Wakarusa for the duration of the services for Staff Sergeant Hunsberger of the 7^th Special Forces Group.

Hunsberger mission photography

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