In Memoriam

Today was the burial at Arlington Cemetery for my friend Lt Col Mark Stratton, killed in Afghanistan two weeks ago at the cowardly hands of a dumbass in a bomb-strapped car. He was about a month out from going to a dream job near his hometown, as the squadron commander of a Lackland AFB unit training basic military trainees. Who better to lead new recruits into the service than someone who had just spent a year as part of a Provincial Reconstruction Team, in the fight, doing good, making a difference? He left behind an amazing woman (whom I'd never met) and three kids, who, tragically, could not see fit to let go of the casket at the end of the ceremony. It made your heart thump in your throat, seeing that.

Sunday was a memorial service, attended by several hundred friends, family, and work colleagues (in uniform), as well as the USAF Chief of Staff to present a Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and two other medals for his service. After a coworker and a college roommate said some words, Mark's wife Jennifer took the mike, with a courageous, touching, funny, and inspiring speech.
Monday was a wake at a neighbor's house, with people out on the driveway on a warm night telling stories, toasting with scotch, debating the merits of deer chili, etc. Saw some friends I hadn't seen in years, from Colorado and Florida, good to see them, crappy reason why.

And today, the full honors. Caisson pulled by horses, twenty-piece AF band playing solemn music, a rifle salute and bugler playing taps from a row of headstones fifty feet up the hill. We heard the crack of two more salutes, for two other burials around the same time... it's my second funeral in as many years, and these honor guardsmen deal with a dozen a day.
Here's hoping they soon stop putting the young into this sacred ground.