The face you haven’t seen in years, but suddenly you
are flooded with those memories that seem to have just passed.
You hear his voice and can still mimic his speech and words.
And you wonder what has made him come home before his leave.
Why has he come home before his men?
And then you read the headlines, pretty close to the ones they
write everyday, but today they seem bolder, stronger, and heavier.
They seem to have been printed bigger than any other day before.
And the name you know: 2nd LT Nainoa Hoe. A name you have
known, but never dreamed you would see again like this, not
way. This wasn’t the way it was suppose to happen. You
look away, hoping it was a bad dream. Your eyes look back again
and see that it really is him. And it almost hurts more the
second time, because you have affirmed in your mind his death
At this point there is no way to be left untouched, there
is no way to just read the numbers, or hear about the casualties.
Iraq seems so much closer. The whole thing now has a name,
a face, a voice, and a dream. And somehow one becomes so
bigger than 27.