The Youngest Soldier

Images courtesy: Sgt. 1st Class Mark Bell

Khalil Quarles loves the U.S. military. Not only does the 10-year-old boy idolize those who serve, but has dreamt for years about putting on his country's uniform.

"He has Army figurines and talks about the Army all the time," U.S. Army Maj. Norland James told The Unknown Soldiers from Kuwait on Dec. 21. "He would love it if he could have a picture from an Army soldier or become an Army soldier himself."

Tragically, a terrible disease stands between Khalil and his dreams. The young boy, who lives in Baltimore, is suffering from terminal cancer. So when Maj. James heard about Khalil through a friend who works as a hospice nurse, the deployed soldier decided to act.

"We wanted to make his dreams come true," James said.

The 37-year-old soldier, who is serving in Kuwait as chief of medical logistics operations, has devoted the last 13 years of his life to the Army. The Albany, Ga., native, who has also been to Afghanistan twice, just spent another holiday season apart from his family and friends.

Amid the continuing sacrifices of military service, James remains intensely appreciative of civilians who support the men and women of the armed forces. When presented with a chance to brighten what could be Khalil's last holiday season, the soldier knew it was his opportunity to give back.

"It's one thing to say 'thank you' with words, but it's another thing to say 'thank you' with actions coming behind it," James said.

Six days before Christmas, a nurse told Khalil that someone special was waiting to talk to him on Skype.

"He was like 'wow, I can't believe it, I'm talking to an Army soldier in Kuwait who's deployed,'" James said.

The soldier will never forget the boy's reaction.

"Just seeing the look in his eyes ... you can't describe it," James said. "It was amazing and it made me smile."

As the soldier and young boy spoke face-to-face while separated by thousands of miles, Khalil could temporarily forget about his dreadful illness. For about ten minutes, Khalil's wish of speaking to a real-life soldier was finally realized. Unbeknownst to the elated child, though, an even bigger dream was about to be fulfilled.

"When I told him I have a couple of my friends waiting outside for (him), he had a look of amazement," James said.

As Khalil, who walks with crutches, made his way to the front of his family's home to see what James was talking about, the soldier sat at a computer station in Kuwait, eagerly awaiting what he knew was coming next. About 40 U.S. Army Reserve soldiers from Maryland's Fort Meade, along with neighbors and camera crews, were waiting to greet Khalil.

"To see him step out on the front stairs ... all those people," James said. "It gave me joy to see the happiness on his face."

As soldiers and supporters clapped and cried, Khalil was asked to raise his right hand after the singing of the National Anthem. The young boy, who never thought he'd have the chance to meet a soldier, let alone become one, then took the U.S. Armed Forces Oath of Enlistment. Khalil is now an honorary soldier in the U.S. Army Reserve.

"It meant a lot to us and definitely other people who had a part in making this happen," James said.

Early this year, James will come home after completing another overseas deployment. Given the soldier's extraordinary efforts to bring happiness to a sick boy and his loved ones, it wasn't surprising to hear what he plans to do upon returning to American soil.

"I'm hoping to actually meet Khalil and his family," the soldier said.

Every day, the men and women of the U.S. military and their families serve, sacrifice, and sometimes suffer while defending our freedom and security. Maj. Norland James has spent 13 years protecting those ideals. Thanks to this compassionate soldier and his fellow troops, it is an honor to introduce you to the newest member of America's remarkable military community.

His name is Khalil Quarles.

COPYRIGHT 2013 CREATORS.COM

Christmas at Arlington

There's no place like Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery, especially on Christmas morning.

Visiting the hallowed ground, where many heroes of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are laid to rest, is an experience filled with heartbreak. But because of the enormous accomplishments of the brave men and women buried there, Section 60 is also one of the most authentic, inspiring places that any American could visit.

After a Christmas Eve mixture of light snow, sleet and rain, Dec. 25 was a glorious morning in the nation's capital. The winter sun, more forgiving than the brutal desert heat many of our heroes have endured in Afghanistan and Iraq, glistened off the magnificent white headstones that mark this young generation's devotion to freedom.

Amid the majestic setting, however, is the aforementioned sadness. Soon after arriving at Section 60, I saw a little boy standing with a woman, presumably his mother, at the grave of a fallen hero.

"Hi, papa," the child said.

While paying my respects to warriors who made the ultimate sacrifice, including several whose stories have appeared in this column, I looked over again at the young boy and his mom.

Before they left the cemetery, the boy threw his arms around the headstone in front of him. He then unleashed a bear hug that would have undoubtedly made his papa smile.

"Goodbye," the child said before he and his mom slowly walked away.

Whenever I visit Section 60, there are always more graves than my previous trip. It's a tragic, pointed reminder that the conflict launched after Sept. 11, 2001, continues to this very day.

Not far from the last row of the newest temporary grave markers was a young woman, probably in her 20s, sitting in silence on a blanket. She was staring at the name of someone she clearly cared about, probably thinking about what was and what could have been. In her hand was a letter, which she clutched and held close to heart.

When I walked by, I put my hand on her shoulder and told her I was sorry for her loss. She looked up at me and acknowledged my presence, albeit without a spoken word. This was Christmas morning, and she was spending a precious moment with someone she loved. It was time for me to go, but like the little boy and his mom, it was impossible to forget her face.

A few minutes later, I encountered the grave of U.S. Marine Staff Sgt. Vincent Bell. Affixed to the fallen hero's headstone were three pictures: two of the Marine in uniform and one showing him dressed up in a nice suit. Atop his headstone were three rocks, along with a coin, bracelet and gold cross.

On Christmas night, I typed Staff Sgt. Bell's name into my search bar and learned that the 28-year-old Marine served four tours of duty in Iraq before being killed in southern Afghanistan on Nov. 30, 2011, while conducting combat operations. A tough, seasoned warrior from Detroit, Bell repeatedly risked his life for his country and did so with bravery and honor.

How could these young men and women be so extraordinary? How could they volunteer, over and over again, for such dangerous duty? How could their loved ones cope with such profound, overwhelming grief? These are questions that every American, not just those who visit Arlington National Cemetery, should still be pondering.

The American heroes buried in Section 60, and throughout Arlington, are not fictional characters from books and movies. They are husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. They sacrifice lifetimes alongside loved ones like the young woman on the blanket and the little boy who hugged his papa's headstone. And they do it to protect us.

Just as I was leaving Arlington to spend the rest of Christmas Day with my family, a privilege I no longer take for granted, I almost stepped on a gold star. Visitors had hung several decorations on a nearby tree, and the ornament probably blew off during the previous day's bad weather.

Written on the gold star was a simple, perfect message to the heroes of Section 60 and their families: "Thank you."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Life As We Know It

Image courtesy: U.S. Air Force/Greg Davis

It's easy to forget that thousands of Americans are still at war.

Whether we're immersed in our families, jobs, hobbies, televisions, computers or smart phones, there are plenty of ways to avoid thinking about a faraway place called Afghanistan. The one percent of our population that volunteers to protect us, however, doesn't have that luxury.

Two North Dakota families are experiencing incomprehensible devastation after a Dec. 3 terrorist attack in Afghanistan's Helmand Province. According to the Department of Defense, two North Dakota National Guardsmen died that day when "enemy forces attacked their unit with an improvised explosive device."

The fallen soldiers' names are Sgt. 1st Class Darren Linde, 41, of Devils Lake, N.D., and Spc. Tyler Orgaard, 20, of Bismarck, N.D.

As I read the casualty notice on my iPhone, I thought about the agony that has been described to me by moms, dads, wives, husbands and siblings who've lost loved ones in Afghanistan or Iraq. To this day, casualty assistance officers are still knocking on the doors of military families that will never be the same.

Instead of hugging and kissing their families at a homecoming ceremony, Sgt. 1st Class Linde and Spc. Orgaard returned to American soil inside flag-draped caskets. Fellow soldiers saluted and bowed their heads during the Dec. 5 dignified transfer ceremony at Delaware's Dover Air Force Base.

During the holiday season, the Linde and Orgaard families are forced to endure the first painful weeks of an unimaginably difficult journey. As we grieve alongside the loved ones of the brave adults and precious children murdered in the tragic Connecticut elementary school massacre, let's also keep these military families, as well as loved ones of all our nation's fallen heroes, in our thoughts and prayers.

According to the North Dakota National Guard, a third soldier, Spc. Ian Placek, 23, was wounded in the Dec. 3 attack. Like thousands of fellow wounded warriors, Spc. Placek, his family and his caregivers have earned our utmost respect, appreciation, and gratitude. As Americans, we have no greater obligation than caring for the valiant men and women who fought for us.

The war in Afghanistan is happening right now. It didn't end when Navy SEALs killed Osama bin Laden or after any of the last three presidential elections. Every day, brave troops like Linde, Orgaard and Placek are patrolling through rugged, dangerous terrain, constantly threatened by enemy snipers and roadside bombs.

I recently went to see the movie "Lincoln" at a local theater. During the film, I was struck most by a scene in which the 16th president, played by Daniel Day-Lewis, rides on horseback through a Civil War battlefield while looking in anguish at countless fallen warriors. Then, to pay tribute, Lincoln removes his iconic hat.

The 19th century was obviously a much different time. But I believe 21st century America would be a better place if we all followed President Abraham Lincoln's example. We must do more to honor the extraordinary men and women who volunteer to risk their lives on post-9/11 battlefields.

Perhaps some of Lincoln's most famous words, uttered on the bloody Civil War battlefield of Gettysburg, can help reawaken our nation to the sacrifices of its heroes.

"It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion," Lincoln said on Nov. 19, 1863. "That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth."

As Lincoln's words inspire us, so should the words of Adrienne Linde, wife of fallen Sgt. 1st Class Darren Linde and mother of their four children.

"Darren gave his life so that others could pass through safely," a statement from the grieving widow said.

As the war in Afghanistan enters its 12th year, let's renew our commitment to honoring America's brave men and women in uniform. Without them, life as we know it would perish.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Images courtesy: North Dakota National Guard

Seek On

Images courtesy: Sgt. Jason Cartwright

Five months into a second stint searching for deadly roadside bombs in Afghanistan, Sgt. Jason Cartwright knows every step he takes with his trusted military working dog, Isaac, could be their last.

"There's no time to be afraid now," Sgt. Cartwright wrote to The Unknown Soldiers from Afghanistan on Dec. 8. "I pat Isaac on the chest and say 'seek on.'"

Since initially making contact with the senior Army dog handler and trainer in 2011, I have marveled at the selfless courage displayed by this married father from Alabama. Based at Missouri's Fort Leonard Wood, Cartwright willingly spends months at a time hunting for improvised explosive devices that kill and maim U.S. troops and Afghan civilians.

"As Isaac and I come to almost half of our tour, we'll still have done our job with finding three caches consisting of six jugs of homemade explosives, three jars of explosive material and two directional charges with eight pressure plates," the soldier wrote.

Isaac is a brave black Lab that looks like he's smiling in every picture the dog's handler sends me from the war zone. The fearless 4-year-old dog, which helped find 28 roadside bombs during a previous deployment that ended in 2011, has found lethal devices buried by terrorists near roads, hospitals and schools.

"Isaac and I search for over 18 hours — 800 meters of routes and compounds to only get everybody back on that chopper to leave once the mission is complete," Cartwright wrote. "That is exactly what we have done together out front taking point with all the troops behind us."

Serving with the Engineer Canine Company of the Army's 5th Engineer Battalion, Jason and Isaac have endured countless missions, including many that have came close to resulting in serious injury or death. But as soon as the inseparable pair returns to base, the two soldiers sit together to enjoy temporary moments of solitude and peace.

"Once the mission was complete, Isaac and I waited out in the open land of Afghanistan under the stars and half-lit moon," Cartwright wrote about a recent assignment.

Given his two tours in Afghanistan and previous deployment to Iraq, fellow soldiers in the war zone rely on Sgt. Cartwright's experience and leadership.

"I understand that I must teach them the way," the soldier wrote. "I train these handlers day and night so that they will be ready to face anything that gets put in their way."

Cartwright has already missed his wife and young son's birthdays, not to mention Thanksgiving, during this deployment. With frigid air and relentless assaults by American troops forcing al-Qaida and the Taliban into hiding during the winter months, Cartwright hopes to have a relatively nice, quiet Christmas on base with his beloved dog.

"The missions have slowed down since winter has come and fighting season is over," he wrote. "Yet Isaac and I are still out and away from our family and friends during the holidays."

It is a privilege to live in a free country. But as we enjoy the company of friends and family during this special time of year, I hope we'll keep in mind that brave men, women and dogs are still scouring the post-9/11 battlefields of a primitive land. I think about Jason and Isaac often, wondering what they are doing and praying they are safe.

"It is a serious and dangerous job that we do, but I've got full confidence in Isaac and the troops who have my back," Cartwright wrote.

When the air grows warmer and the enemy returns to the battlefield, Jason and Isaac will be ready once again.

"As I hear the chopper from the distance, I know it's time to begin," he wrote.

Sgt. Jason Cartwright can't wait to see his wife and child again. But unlike the 99 percent of us who don't serve in uniform, this 28-year-old American soldier ranks his personal wishes second. Whenever danger lurks beneath the dirt road ahead, Jason and Isaac always seek on. To them, nothing is more important than uncovering the next bomb.

"If I one day I shall fall, I won't regret it," the soldier wrote. "(That's) because we try to find them all."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Defender of Justice

Images courtesy: Manoukian family

Capt. Matt Manoukian could have done anything he wanted in life. Not only was he the son of two California judges, he was tough, good-looking and brilliant.

"He took care of business," his father, Judge Socrates Peter Manoukian of the Santa Clara County Superior Court, told The Unknown Soldiers.

Ever since age 7, Matt dreamed of becoming a United States Marine. He believed the Marine Corps gave him a unique chance to help protect equality and justice, which he watched his parents preserve throughout his childhood.

Matt's plans took on a sense of urgency on Sept. 11, 2001. While the high school football standout was ready to enlist the next day, an injury and a major health scare forced Matt to put his dreams on hold.

"He had two surgeries ... the first was for a knee injury," his dad said. "Then, that summer he found out he had a tumor in his spinal cord."

Matt pursued his bachelor's degree at the University of Arizona while recovering from both operations. He studied political science and rebuilt his strength, but never wavered from his ultimate goal.

"He was a good example of 'if you work hard enough, you'll get what you want,'" Matt's father said.

Matt joined the Marine Corps in 2006, and after more than a year of training, deployed to Iraq's Al Anbar Province. But even as a young Lieutenant, Matt understood that physical preparation was only one aspect of a combat deployment.

"I told him a big part of being a Marine was understanding the culture," Matt's dad said. "But he already knew that."

Matt treated Iraqi civilians with respect and began studying their language while leading his platoon on dangerous missions. He was compassionate, but also fierce and genuinely heroic.

"He had an IED (improvised explosive device) go off near him and knock him out ... it knocked everybody out," his father said.

As a fellow Marine lay bleeding, Matt refused to leave him behind.

"He put a tourniquet on this guy's leg and saved his life," Matt's dad said.

While Matt earned medals throughout his military career, he was reluctant to discuss any personal achievements. What did fill him with pride, however, was seeing clear signs of progress when he returned to Iraq a second time. Just like during his first deployment, Matt immersed himself in the local culture.

"He did that in Iraq ... he learned how to speak Arabic," Matt's dad said. "And then when he went to Afghanistan, he started doing the same thing."

Matt didn't tell his parents much about his first combat tour in Afghanistan. But when he got the opportunity to return there in 2012, he was grateful. As it would be Matt's last deployment before he traded military life for law school, the Marine wanted to use his good relationship with Afghans to help them develop a strong legal system.

"He said he wanted to finish the business, just like he did in Iraq," Matt's father said.

On Aug. 4, Matt spoke enthusiastically to the San Diego Union-Tribune about his Special Operations unit's progress in building the Afghan police force.

"You see kids running around now trying to play ALP (Afghan Local Police)," Matt told the newspaper. "So it's catching on."

Six days later, Capt. Manoukian, 29, and two fellow Marines were shot and killed by an Afghan police officer who attacked their compound.

"You always worry, and one night the Marines came to the door and told us," Matt's father said. "We miss him, and the Marines who got killed with him were also tough guys."

Matt's murder is an outrage, but his legacy endures. For the first time in the Judicial Branch of California's history, someone outside the legal profession is being honored with the Stanley Mosk Defender of Justice Award. Matt is being recognized "for his sacrifice to the cause of justice."

Almost every father is proud of his son, but it's difficult to find a prouder dad than Judge Socrates Peter Manoukian.

"He was kind to people and took care of strangers he didn't know," Matt's father said. "It was a grace and honor to have him in the family, and we miss him terribly."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Someday

Images courtesy: Karlyn Deveau

For Karlyn Deveau, Dec. 8, 2012, wasn't just another date on the calendar. It was the day she would marry her fiance, who would finally be home from Afghanistan.

"He was helping plan everything from over there," Karlyn told The Unknown Soldiers. "He was so excited about it."

As a Navy SEAL, Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 2nd Class David Warsen was often in harm's way. But when night fell in Afghanistan, the SEAL would always make time for a Skype call with Karlyn, who had usually wrapped up her night shift as a labor and delivery nurse in San Diego.

"There were maybe only three days I didn't talk to him during the entire deployment," Karlyn said. "We always found a way."

Karlyn and David found each other through an unlikely series of meetings in San Diego. After two chance encounters, David left for several months of training in Virginia. But in July 2011, once again in downtown San Diego, the future couple met a third time.

"We both knew at this point that we needed to hang out since we kept randomly running into each other," Karlyn, 26, wrote. "We went on our first date the following week and the rest is history."

Karlyn knew SEALs are some of the world's toughest men, yet was immediately struck by the genuine warmth of David's heart.

"He just loved everyone and made you feel so important," she said. "He had so much love and passion about life."

When David and Karlyn decided to get married, they understood the challenges they would later face. Like thousands of military couples, they would spend many months apart during an overseas deployment. But David always managed to stay positive, even when Karlyn could tell he wanted to come home.

"Every time we talked, he tried to be in a cheerful mood," the SEAL's fiancee said.

Almost every night, Karlyn would keep her computer screen close as she fell asleep while looking into her future husband's eyes.

"It was just so peaceful knowing that if I woke up, I could see him," she wrote about their Skype calls. "I always dreaded when I would hear his alarm going off, which sounded like a dog barking, because I knew it was time for him to head out."

Karlyn and David spoke for about an hour in the early morning hours of Aug. 16 before the SEAL left for a mission. They were supposed to talk again later that day, but the Skype call never came.

"I was freaking out a little bit," Karlyn said. "Then I found an article that said there was a helicopter crash in Afghanistan."

It can't be him, Karlyn thought. But when she learned two Navy SEALs were killed in the crash, the worried fiancee grew terrified.

"I got that sick feeling that it could be him," she said. "But I didn't want to believe it."

Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 2nd Class Warsen, 27, died in the Aug. 16 helicopter crash near Kandahar, Afghanistan, along with six fellow Americans.

"It's hard to talk about things because in my mind I don't feel like this situation is real," Karlyn said on Nov. 20. "I feel like he's going to come back."

The fallen SEAL's fiancee, who spoke in a quiet, dignified tone throughout our phone conversation, then paused.

"It's so hard to know he's not coming back," she said.

David also leaves behind his parents, brothers and grandparents.

"I'm glad that we're all together to be there for each other," Karlyn said. "It's nice, but it's hard."

David's obituary, printed in the Grand Rapids Press, contains a quote that sums up the courage of a Michigan native who refused to quit.

"Failure to David was never an option," the obituary reads.

While Dec. 8 will be filled with tears of sadness instead of joy, Karlyn and David's romance is the opposite of failure. Karlyn's road ahead is difficult, but David's love will always be inside the heart of the woman he longed to call his wife.

"I just want him to be honored like the kind person he was," Karlyn said. "I wish the whole world could have met him."

Someday, David and Karlyn will meet again.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Love Is Alive

Images courtesy: Facebook

Cpl. Todd Love's life changed in a matter of seconds.

"I don't remember an explosion," Cpl. Love, 22, told The Unknown Soldiers. "One second I'm in Afghanistan and another second I'm in Germany."

The Marine was walking in a field between two suspected enemy compounds on Oct. 25, 2010, when everything went blank.

"When I woke up in Germany, the first thing I recognized was that I wasn't in Afghanistan anymore," he said. "Then realized I stepped on an IED."

Had a British helicopter not arrived about 90 minutes after the improvised explosive device detonated, Love may have died face down in that wretched, blood-soaked field.

"It took them five minutes to find me, and when they did, my legs were already gone and my left hand was really damaged," the Marine said.

Love slipped in and out of consciousness as he was rushed to Bethesda, Md., for a series of crucial surgeries. His hand was later amputated. But even as he came to grips with his severe injuries, the brave Marine, who grew up near Marietta, Ga., never questioned his decision to follow in his father's and grandfather's footsteps by volunteering to serve.

"I was working at an Italian restaurant and wanted to do something more meaningful," Love, who joined the Marine Corps at age 18, said.

By the time he was injured, Love had already witnessed more violence than most of us will in our lifetimes.

"I've been in so many firefights ... probably close to 40," he said. "I couldn't even possibly tell you how many times I've been shot at."

Going to bed was almost always a challenge for Love during his deployment, as the young Marine's mind was filled with searing images of innocent Afghans being murdered and maimed by al-Qaida and the Taliban.

"I used to go to sleep every night with a knot in my stomach ... thinking I could die tomorrow or I may not see my family again," Love said. "Going to sleep like that every night for months is not a good way to live."

The day Love lost his legs started like any other. The young Marine was leading his platoon from point A to point B while "not taking any unnecessary risks," knowing that a firefight could erupt at any moment.

For those 90 harrowing minutes, Love lay defenseless amid gunfire from the subsequent ambush and explosive residue from the IED blast that shattered his hand and legs. While thankful that he can't remember his time in the shadow of the death, Love thinks he knows why he made it out alive.

"I probably had thousands of people praying for me, even if it's someone saying 'God, please protect our troops in Afghanistan,'" he said. "That's probably how I survived."

Most 22-year-olds are just starting to figure out their path in life. While the triple amputee knows the road ahead is filled with enormous challenges, he is determined to make the most of what he sees as borrowed time.

"I know God does things for a reason ... He's been kind of showing me that," the Marine said. "I figure if I keep toughing it out -- if I believe I'll keep getting stronger -- I (will)."

Love's courage has inspired an actor who famously portrayed a wounded warrior on screen. Gary Sinise, who has made supporting our troops a personal crusade, played a Nov. 3 benefit concert with his "Lt. Dan Band" to raise funds for state-of-the-art "smart homes" being built for Love and another wounded hero, Army Sgt. 1st Class Michael Schlitz.

The Alpharetta, Ga., charity concert, held by the Gary Sinise Foundation and Tunnel to Towers Foundation, meant the world to Love and his family.

"All the love I'm being shown from my hometown, it gives me hope not just in life but for our country," the Marine said.

Just moments after he realized his legs were gone, Cpl. Todd Love understood that life is truly a gift. Hopefully, his story will remind us to approach our lives with the same sense of gratitude.

"I was kind of overwhelmed with happiness because I realized I was going to see my family," Love continued. "I knew I was alive."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Inseparable

Images courtesy: Emily Feeks

Emily Booth had just come home from Afghanistan when she met her future husband, a Navy SEAL named Patrick Feeks. He had just returned from a deployment to Iraq.

"We really just hit it off," Emily, a Navy cryptologist, told The Unknown Soldiers.

It didn't take long before the sailor and SEAL realized they were meant for each other.

"By Thanksgiving 2010, we were pretty much inseparable every day," Emily said. "We just kind of knew."

Whether it was their shared sense of humor or common military experiences, nobody understood Emily like this young Navy SEAL.

"Patrick always took care of me," she said.

Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 1st Class Patrick Feeks and Petty Officer 1st Class Emily Feeks were married on March 12, 2011. Just two months later, Emily deployed to the Philippines, leaving her engagement ring with Patrick to symbolize their resilient bond.

"The two of us always made time to talk," she said. "We talked every morning and every night, and we talked constantly during the day."

Shortly after Emily returned from the Philippines, it was Patrick's turn to leave for Afghanistan. Having served there, Emily understood the risks her husband faced, even as Patrick placed his wedding ring in her hand.

"I'm coming home," Patrick told his wife. "I promise you I'm coming home."

But Patrick was a SEAL, and Emily knew the meaning of the gold Trident her husband wore with such pride. In Afghanistan, he would be involved in some of the U.S. military's most dangerous combat missions, confronting the enemy while shielding the innocent.

"I don't want people to think these guys are killing machines," Emily, 32, said. "They're well-trained men, but they're also incredible sons, fathers and husbands."

Even in the heat of battle, Patrick's heart went out to a stray dog he encountered one day in Afghanistan. The SEAL made it a priority to find the dog a safe home.

"Sadie now lives in Canada on a farm," Emily said. "He had to get her out of there."

Every night in San Diego, Emily went to bed hoping to wake up to the beeps of an incoming Skype call. Her conversations with Patrick were frequent, but the SEAL never discussed the things he was doing or the lives he was saving. Patrick was too humble for that and Emily knew it.

"If there was something that needed to get done, he would do it and do it right," the SEAL's wife said. "Everything had a purpose and everything should be done correctly."

After an Aug. 15 combat mission was delayed, Emily seized the opportunity for a late-night Skype conversation with Patrick. She knew her husband was headed into harm's way, so Emily kept Patrick's face on the computer screen as long as possible.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you more," Patrick replied.

"Now go save the world," Emily said as the screen turned to black.

Emily awoke at 2 a.m. to the echoes of Patrick's voice. She thought her husband was calling on Skype, but the screen was still blank.

"I just knew something was wrong," she said.

On Aug. 16, Special Warfare Operator Petty Officer 1st Class Patrick Feeks, 28, was killed alongside six fellow Americans in a helicopter crash near Kandahar. The fallen hero left behind his wife, parents, and a sister who also serves in the Navy.

"You're just so numb ... you can't believe it's happening," Emily said through tears. "Then you realize he's not coming home and you'll never hear his voice again."

When Patrick's flag-draped casket returned to American soil, Emily was waiting with his wedding ring. They were never apart while he was gone, and even after Patrick's death, the couple is still together. Still, Emily agonizes over what could have been.

"You look around and everyone is happy and go-lucky, and you wonder why you can't have that," the young widow said. "Why does it have to happen to you?"

Petty Officer 1st Class Emily Feeks plans to dedicate the rest of her life to helping others. By emulating Patrick's care and compassion, Emily knows they'll always be together.

"I've never been treated like that in my entire life," she said. "He made me feel like the world."

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

The Campaign Continues

Image courtesy: Tech Sgt. Quinton Russ

The 2012 presidential campaign is over. America's military campaign in Afghanistan is not.

There have been three presidential elections since the war in Afghanistan erupted after the 9/11 attacks. By any measure, the war was all but invisible during this past campaign, with the candidates' rhetoric and the media's curiosity about the conflict hitting all-time lows.

Virtually ignoring a war being fought by thousands of fellow Americans during a presidential campaign is both unconscionable and unprecedented. I voted in this election, but after writing every week about extraordinary men and women who make tremendous sacrifices at home and abroad to protect our country, I did so with some initial apprehension.

But then I thought about my recent conversation with Senior Airman Angela Jackson, who is stationed at Bagram Air Field in Afghanistan. She was about halfway through her first deployment when the Nov. 6 election took place, yet was too focused on her mission to worry about how much attention was being paid to Afghanistan back home. She joined the Air Force for bigger reasons.

"You would lay down your life for your co-worker," Senior Airman Jackson told The Unknown Soldiers. "It's hard to be selfish out here, even if you want to be."

Jackson, 25, volunteered to serve in February 2009. Like all U.S. service members who have enlisted since 9/11, she knew deploying to a war zone was a strong possibility. Still, the brave young woman decided to leave her friends and family in Boise, Idaho, for Afghanistan, where snow-capped mountains serve as just about the only reminders of home.

"I've always liked to be part of (something) bigger than myself and being able to have the idea that you're working with other people toward something," she said.

Since leaving for war, Jackson has communicated with her family through email, Facebook and Skype, but prefers to sit down and compose letters, much like the generations of U.S. troops who served before her.

"I do call them once in a while, but like I said, I mostly do the letter writing," Jackson said.

Most of us take hugging our family members for granted. For thousands of American troops still serving in Afghanistan, however, writing a letter is as close as they can get to their loved ones.

"It's something physical ... it's the only thing physical that I can give to my family," Jackson said. "When they get my letter, they can hold it, touch it and read the words that I have to say."

Jackson, who is serving at Bagram with the Air Force's 455th Expeditionary Wing, helps lead an emergency management team that's in place to respond to the worst disasters that could befall an American base during wartime, including terrorist attacks.

"Our responses are in chemical, biological, radiation material and explosives," the airman said.

American troops in Afghanistan also need to be prepared for accidents. Jackson recently coordinated logistics for a large drill simulating a helicopter crashing into a dining facility at Bagram.

"It's very important for us to be ready," she said. "And it's very important out here because we need to be training in the environment we're going to be in if something were to happen."

As evidenced during nearly two years of constant campaigning, many politicians and pundits have turned the page on this war. But every single day, U.S. troops wake up on bases around Afghanistan and prepare for the worst, all while their families at home wait, wonder and worry.

Regardless of popularity or political winds, however, our country continues to be blessed with selfless patriots like Senior Airman Angela Jackson, who deploy to Afghanistan so the rest of us don't have to. But even though she's fully committed to her mission, the brave airman still looks forward to coming home.

"I'm planning on seeing all my family and my friends, and getting back into the work environment," she said.

Now that the presidential election is finally over, it is time for all of us to get back to the important work of supporting our troops. America is still at war.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Image courtesy: Spc. Jenny Lui

The Hardest Choice

Image courtesy: Sgt. Aubrey Rundle

While working inside newsrooms for eight years following the 9/11 attacks, I was exposed to an ugly stereotype. Most members of the military aren't serving because they want to fight for their country, I often heard, but because they are underprivileged and have no choice.

After spending the last three years talking to American troops, veterans and their families, I can write with certainty that this generalization is false. Our brave men and women in uniform do indeed have a choice, yet pick the hardest possible path: serving during wartime.

A recent meeting with U.S. Army 1st Lt. Nick Vogt at the Walter Reed National Medical Center, shows the fallacy of a stereotype perpetuated by some inside the national media. Despite losing both legs in a Nov. 12, 2011, terrorist attack in Afghanistan, 1st Lt. Vogt has no regrets about his choice.

Upon graduating from West Point, the young Army officer was accepted to medical school. He chose to lead an infantry platoon in Afghanistan instead.

Of course, stepping on an enemy improvised explosive device wasn't part of the Ohio native's plan. But instead of lamenting over his injuries, the 24-year-old soldier is constantly pushing himself. When I sat beside Nick for an hour on Oct. 12, there was a thick medical book on his table. The double amputee is studying for his MCAT exam.

U.S. Marine Maj. Megan McClung also chose a courageous path. After the ambitious daughter of a Marine graduated the U.S. Naval Academy and served in Iraq, she left the military and worked in Kuwait as a contractor. But instead of coming home to Washington State and using a master's degree from Boston University to launch a lucrative career, she chose a different future.

"After she got home, her next breath was 'I need to go back as a Marine,'" Megan's mother, Re McClung, told me.

Major McClung deployed to Iraq as a public affairs specialist and worked with reporters using a simple, yet profound motto: "Be bold. Be brief. Be gone."

Today, those words are engraved on Megan's headstone at Arlington National Cemetery. She was killed alongside two U.S. Army soldiers on Dec. 6, 2006, while escorting a team of Newsweek journalists through Ramadi's dangerous streets.

Megan's parents are not bitter about losing their intelligent, driven 34-year-old daughter. That's because the fallen Marine's mom and dad know Megan wouldn't be bitter about the conclusion of her extraordinary life.

"It was a sacrifice she was willing to make," her mom said. "Nothing about Megan's life was tragic."

In the past year, I have gotten to know the wife and sister, respectively, of U.S. Navy LT (SEAL) Brendan Looney and U.S. Marine 1st Lt. Travis Manion. Like Nick and Megan, Brendan and Travis could have done anything they wanted with their lives, yet chose to serve.

Every day, Amy Looney and Ryan Manion wish their loved ones had come home. Yet they repeatedly convey their pride that Brendan and Travis, who were Naval Academy roommates on 9/11, opted to risk their lives. Today, both Amy and Ryan dedicate theirs to helping members of the military community.

Engraved on 1st Lt. Manion's headstone, which is next to Brendan's and just steps from Megan's, is a powerful quote: "If not me, then who ... " Travis, 26, uttered these words before trading — for a second time — a comfortable life in Pennsylvania for the brutal urban warfare of Fallujah.

Image courtesy: Travis Manion Foundation

Lieutenant Looney nearly quit Navy SEAL training after his friend was killed in Iraq. Instead, driven by the "if not me, then who ... " calling, he graduated as "Honor Man" of his BUD/S class. Brendan, 29, served in both Iraq and Afghanistan before being killed in a Sept. 21, 2010, helicopter crash with eight fellow Americans.

Had Megan, Brendan or Travis survived their final deployments, I believe they would have become generals, CEOs or even presidents. But they were willing to risk their tomorrow for our today.

First Lt. Nick Vogt will undoubtedly succeed in whatever trail he someday blazes with prosthetic legs. In doing so, the wounded warrior, and thousands more like him, will cast an ugly stereotype to the ash heap of history.

Our courageous troops and veterans are not victims. They are leaders.

COPYRIGHT 2012 CREATORS.COM

Image courtesy: Cpl. Marco Mancha