My Son in Iraq

My son flies intelligence drones over enemy-occupied territory. The planes he pilots are bigger than I expected; in fact, the last picture I received was of him standing underneath the wing of the aircraft he and his crew navigate from computer consoles miles away.

He monitors enemy troop movements, or provides an eye in the sky to ensure our troops and allies don't fall victim to al Queda. I'm not sure which mission he's been tasked with, but apparently some of these remote-controlled planes can carry weaponry. My son in law has never mentioned that fact, although I've gleamed it from news reports and Internet chatter.

When he was summoned from Arizona to help fight the war on terrorism, he left behind my daughter and two grandaughters. It's not like he's a stranger to distance, he's already served in Korea while his family remained stateside.

This tour is different though.

His youngest daughter, who hasn't reached her fourth birthday, has an unusual form of cancer that requires my daughter to make monthly visits to a hospital more than 800 miles distant from their home. My grandaughter has already lost an eye in her battle with the ailment, so it's very serious.

She was in remission when he left, and from what I witnessed the Army went out of its way to delay his departure until things had stabilized. But his love for his family, and genuine concern for his daughter, weighs heavily on my entire family. A lot of guys may have gone to the Sand Box to get away from a tough situation, but that's not the case with my son in law. His three girls, an inventory that includes my daughter, are his entire world and that fact always shows in his mannerism.

Despite the challenges, he remains true to the mission. He's witnessed the difference American intervention has made in Iraq. His e-mails and letters talk about what he's witnessed and the changes he's seen, despite contradictory news reports.