I am thankful for "rough men"

I am on the plane coming home from Washington DC as I write this. It is a blessing in and of itself as hurricane Irene is working her way up the east coast. We left at 8:15 am. The airport is supposed to close at noon.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to experience the past couple days of honoring my cousin Rob and his fallen comrades. Men who ran onto that Chinook thinking only of the task at hand. Well aware of the danger, but ready to face whatever was on the other side of the coming flight.

We arrived in Virginia Beach late Wednesday night. After a couple of hours hours of sleep we met up with Scotty, the naval officer assigned to our family. Scotty has been with my uncle and cousin since Rob's death. He has helped them with all arrangements and the paperwork associated with someone killed in action. Scotty lead us on the 45 minute drive to Damneck Naval Base, home base for the East coast SEALS.

The base was just along the shoreline. It was quite an experience being on an active military base. It's been a while since I've been on one, and even then it was always an Air Force base. As we drove in, we passed a shooting range where about 15 or so soldier are firing weapons.

Once there we boarded 6 charter buses with all of the other families of the 22 navy men killed on 6-August.

(we are flying through quite a bit of turbulence right now...the flight attendants have even sat down! Thank you, Irene)

As we pulled out of the base, we could see about 10 motorcycle police and probably 30-40 Patriot Guard pull in front of our bus motorcade. It's about a 15-20 minute ride to the Convention Center where the memorial service was to be held. Overhead we could see a helicopter flying with us. I'm not sure if it was news, security or what.

As we got closer to the convention center, we began to see people lining the street: boy scouts, school children holding signs of appreciation, and patriot guard with their flags.

Then there were navy sailors...hundreds of them...standing at attention a few feet apart along both sides of the street.

The patriot guard moved to the side as we passed the front of the convention center. I saw two fire trucks hoisting a huge American flag front and center.

It was truly an overwhelming scene to pass through.

We pulled to back of the convention center and entered through service gates. They took the families upstairs to meeting rooms to wait until time to enter the service. We estimated there were probably about 800 people in the family groups.

After a little while they began taking immediate family into the service. We could hear bagpipes playing in the main arena. The Boston Police Gaelic Column was playing the processional for the families. After all of the immediate family entered, we the extended family members were escorted in. The gave us each yellow lapel ribbons to wear.

As we entered, bagpipes had ceased and it was completely silent. Several thousand military personnel and their families stood quietly.

I will not be able to do justice to the service that followed so I'm just going to explain the proceedings.

The Boston Police Gaelic Column followed the Colors as they were brought forward. There is just no explaining the emotions brought forth as bagpipes play in a ceremony such as this. I recall how greatly impacted I was when a single bagpipe was played at the funeral of my grandfather, who was a Garland firefighter.

The staging area was set with an American flag as the backdrop. A podium with the SEAL insignia stood center. Beside that a large photo of the squadron posing with the flag. Along the floor in front of the stage were large candid photos of each of the fallen (22 total) in combat gear...including Bart, the canine. At each side of the stage were 11 wreaths. One for each navy soul fallen.

The National Anthem was sung. I always get misty eyed when I hear our anthem, but it will always have a little more meaning now.

Several men spoke. Commanders. Rear Admirals. Men who had loved and worked with all of those on the Chinook. They spoke of the strength of the SEAL community. They spoke of how they will not blink in the face of this tragedy, but will press on as those who sacrificed would want them to do.

Two videos were shown. One talking about the SEALS as a fighting force, the other talking about the SEALS as men. As sons....husbands...fathers. About their commitment to family. About how they do the job without fanfare or glory. These are not men who brag about their accomplishments. These are men who do the job quietly and move on to the next.

It was an incredibly moving portrayal of these men.

The chaplain for the team closed out the service. My family was particularly captivated with one quote he used from a note he received from one of the SEALs honored that day, Heath Robinson. He said he often referred to the quote attributed to George Orwell.

"We sleep peacefully in our beds because rough men stand by to visit violence on those who would do us harm."

I am proud to have known one of those "rough men."

The Boston Police Gaelic Column came forward again and played as the families filed out of the service.

We then entered the reception hall. A time to reflect and celebrate the lives cut short.

Along a side wall they had displays for each of the fallen. They had taken the large candids from the service area and placed them along side framed shadow boxes which contained their medals, ribbons, a flag and several plaques listing their service and ranks and SEAL insignia. Below the frames were additional candids of the men.

Below Bart's photo were his bed and food bowl.

I was impressed with how smoothly this service went. It was touching and, I feel, a worthy honoring of those fallen. The Navy did an excellent job coordinating all of the logistics for so many people.

The following day we attended the mass burial at Arlington National Cemetery. That story tomorrow...or soon.