I was in a small meeting at work on 9-11-01, when the first plane hit. Our receptionist came in and told us. I thought it must have been small plane that got lost or something like that. Then the second plane hit. We turned on the TV in the conference room, and we all were in a bit of shock. I mentioned Osama bin Laden, several people nodded.
A woman who worked for me started crying, because her son was starting his senior year at West Point, and now he would be going to war. She was right about that.
He has done two tours, and is about to start a third. He’s a very fine young officer ( now a captain), a natural leader of men, but hates the war in Iraq. He has lost men in his command on both tours; to IEDs and snipers. He had a couple of AK rounds whiz near his ear. Her daughter is also an NCO and did a tour as a medical technician in a hospital. She hated the idea of treating the insurgents that were wounded and captured.
His mom and I looked at his West Point yearbook once, and she pointed out the officers that were dead already; some from accidents, some from war. So young, and so many already gone.
Seven years in, and the rest of our lives to go.