Regardless of the political veil through which we each view the war in Iraq, there is no denying that the pain of this conflict is dreadfully real for people on both sides of the fighting.
On Monday, the pain hit home hard when news that 2001 Oxford Hills Comprehensive High School graduate Corey Dan was killed in Iraq.
Dan was 23 years old. A devoted member of the 101st Airborne Division serving his second tour in Iraq, he was also an engaging member of the Oxford Hills community and will be mourned.
Dan knew in high school that he wanted to enlist in the Army. He told people it’s all he ever wanted to do. After meeting with a recruiter who came to OHCHS, he was ready to sign up, but his parents, Doug and Wanda Kilgore of Norway, asked him to wait and really think about what enlistment might mean for him. He did what they asked, but never veered from his decision to join the Army.
He reported to basic training at Fort Benning on Sept. 11, 2001. In 2002, Dan told the Sun Journal about the confusion and anxiety of that day. “Reality set in. We all knew we were going to war, we may not have been trained yet, and we didn’t know who we were fighting, but we were all ready.”
During his first tour, Dan’s family worried about him constantly. He trained as a paratrooper and tried to minimize his family’s fears for his safety, especially the fears of his mother. Called up for his second tour, Dan was assigned desk duty and his family relaxed a little, believing he was safe.
But as we approach the third anniversary of this war, Iraq is increasingly unsafe for soldiers and civilians.
Baghdad was rocked Sunday by deadly explosions, igniting new fear that Iraq may be on the verge of civil war. Since Monday morning, police have found at least 87 people killed in execution-style shootings, including 29 bodies stacked in a mass grave.
Dan died there before he ever had a chance to see his infant son.
On the day his former girlfriend went into labor, Dan was scheduled to ship out and could not get permission to stay for the birth. That child, now just a few months old, will never know his father. He will never toss a ball with him. Never receive his father’s kiss on a skinned knee. Never learn to drive at his father’s elbow. Never know the feel of his father’s hug or remember seeing his flag-draped coffin.
We are fighting a political and strategic battle in Iraq and it’s tough going. The battle at home for the families of the more than 2,000 war dead is much tougher.
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