I had never given a eulogy before. I don't think, on our lists of first experiences, that's one that we're all eager to add. My las deployment (2006-2007) was . . . simple; very straight forward really, and happily we didn't lose any of the soldiers in my platoon. I remember that most people in the US barely even knew that we were fighting a war in Afghanistan; all the focus was on Iraq. To be fair, Iraq was much more dangerous at the time; there were far more casualties there than there were in Afghanistan.

This year, by comparison, has been horrific. I was 20 years old when those planes crashed into the World Trade Center. I remember getting the call at my apartment and going to the campus commons to watch the news reports. I remember the atmosphere and the general sense of . . terror in the room. One month later I was standing as close as you could get at the time to ground zero. I went to a concert that night at Madison Square and the room was charged with the feelings of tens of thousands of Americans, the horror so fresh in our minds; anger, grief, sadness, confusion. A month after that I was there again; ash and dust still hanging in the air while we stood in front of the fence to read the letters to the fallen. My point is that I was an adult, albeit a very naive one, when all this was happening. I could understand to a degree; I could feel that anger toward the people that had done this. I was old enough to want to protect the people I love and fight back against. . . whatever you want to call it. Four years later, when I joined an army already at war, I understood the reasons for being at war, I could personalize it.

Two soldiers in my platoon lost their lives this deployment; four in the company. One in my squad, a man that I was personally responsible for. Along with the many others sent home with terribly injuries is another young man that I was responsible for, now missing both of his legs and one of his arms. Ryan was 26 at the time of his death, old enough that he probably remembers quite clearly September 11. Tyler was 18, right next to me when the IED that killed him went off. Kevin was 18 when the same blast the killed Ryan Cook took his legs and arm. I still question whether or not they really had an idea what it was we were trying to accomplish. I don't always understand anymore, myself.

I gave a short eulogy at Ryan's memorial service, one of a few people that spoke. Words are important; memories, thoughts. . . Once upon a time I probably believed that the dead were still able to hear us in their afterlife. Now I think the words, the memories, are for those of us who remain behind. It's important not to forget, to honor a person as much as we're able. I don't know why it's important but it's one of those things in life that I just know. . . and that's good because I'm short on certainty lately.

RIP Ryan Cook KIA 18 September 2011

Tyler Springman KIA 17 July 2011

Kenneth Elwell KIA 17 July 2011

Rodolfo Rodriguez KIA 16 September 2011