Snapshots of a Deployment

"I don't want to call my mom, she'll make me cry. I don't want to cry." Shane stared hard at the sky, clench his jaw to keep the tears from flowing over.

Nick held Ben for ten minutes, as Ben uncontrollably sobbed with his face on Nick's shoulder.

Branson laughs loudly, flirting with us girls to forget where he is going.

Dusty stands quietly by himself, gulping his coffee in a corner.

Ryan doesn't stop talking, not giving himself time to think that he should have been going home in a week.

Ben holds Amanda tightly, his arms holding her close. His tears soak her sweater, but hers slide right off of his waterproof jacket.

They are called into formation, and we desperately get last hugs, every one tight, lingering, no one wanting to let go. We pray for them, holding hands tightly, reluctantly releasing our hold. They stand at attention, all visible tears are gone. They call their names one be one. Shane is the first of ours to be called. He avoids our gaze, turning away. Then Branson goes, turning sharply on his heel, his head held high. Dusty is next, slipping away, then Ben, who looks long and hard at Amanda one last time. Ryan is the last. He turns halfway, then meets our eyes, giving a half-salute, smiling a little, unshed tears making his eyes shine. They join the line of other soldiers, and we can no longer distinguish them amid the sea of camoflouge uniforms.

I hold Amanda as we both crie, unable to stop. "He'll be okay. He's going to be okay," I tell her, trying to believe it. Statistics say they have a better chance of living going to Iraq than driving down the highway, but cold facts are no comfort when those you love are going into danger.

Two commanding officers come up to us. We pray for them, and when we are done, both of them looked each of us in the eyes and gave us a promise. "We will bring them all back."

These are brothers in Christ, guys I have come to love in the few months I have known them. And now they are gone, and I cannot stop my tears, or the terrible weight on my heart. But only, with the protection of God, for 425 days.