Father’s Day Weekend 2007 with my son Sgt Ryan S Kahlor, by MFSO member Tim Kahlor
June 18,
2007
I was sitting
across from my son the Saturday night before Father’s Day. We drank a few beers
together and talked about the last 4 years. Our last Father’s Day together was
in 2002. Since then my 23 year old son Ryan had been in either Iraq or
Germany. During that time he had spent over 24 months in combat.
Our
conversation would be interrupted by his cell phone. Another childhood buddy
wanting to take him out on the town, but each time Ryan would reply, “I am
drinking a beer with my Dad”. At one point my eyes begin to tear up and Ryan
said, “Now don’t start getting emotional Dad or I will cut you off from the beer
“. I couldn’t believe that little boy that uses to hold on to me so tightly
knowing I would always keep him safe was now the grown man sitting across the
table. Although Ryan has lifetime injuries from being in numerous Bradley
hitting IED, near miss sniper fire and back injuries from falling off a building
during patrol. I knew my wife and I were so lucky our son was home in one
piece.
Ryan
continues to tease me as I wipe a tear from my face. What he didn’t realize is
that I was also thinking about fathers like Al Zappala and Carlos Arredondo.
Fathers of sons that were killed in Iraq and would never share this same moment
I was so privilege to have with my son. Soon the evening ended with a hug from
my son and him saying, “I am glad to be home Dad and I love you” as he went out
the door to spend time with one of his high school buddies.
The next
morning on Father’s Day I was reading the LA Times when I saw the picture of a
smiling young man and it read “one of two soldiers killed in blast”. There were
3 more pictures of young men in uniform and below a list of 16 more names under
“Other Deaths” and the statement, “The Defense Department last week identified
the following American military personnel killed in Afghanistan, Iraq and
Qatar”.
It would be a
Father’s Day weekend that would be deeply embedded into the memories of 20
families. How many of those 20 had fathers that will open a card from their son
that weekend. The son not knowing it was his last written words to his Dad.
That some of these fathers will have to meet a flag draped coffin that will
silently arrive at a nearby airport. I know I will never forget this Father’s
Day or the pictures and the list of names I read that day. That I will always
value the time I spent sitting across from my son the night before and drinking
beer together. That I will continue thinking of those 20 families and all the
fathers like Al and Carlos that will never get to spend another Father’s Day
with their sons.
Ryan has been
home since May 27th and reports to Camp Irwin June 20th. It has
been nice hearing our son saying Mom and Dad around the house. I ask my wife, “Where
is that little boy that once lived here?” As my wife Laura came out of Ryan’s
room arms loaded with Ryan’s dirty clothes. She stops for a moment gathering
more clothes out of Ryan’s bathroom and lowering the toilet seat. She looked up
at me and said, “I just found our little boy”. My wife and I have both
enjoyed the sounds of our only
child being home, the extra laundry, the empty refrigerator and just knowing
that he is safe with us.
I have been
reading Ryan’s journal from his last year in Iraq. I am so
glad he wrote down what he experience. Its page after page of horror, but it
brings home what war really is and doesn’t romanticize
it.
The
following is part of one day in our son’s life in Iraq.
11/3/2006 “On
the ground, walls and roof tops were pieces of human flesh, bones and gear. I
moved to the first body that I saw and picked him up to put him on a stretcher.
When I did I realized that everything that was in his head was pouring out of a
hole in the back of his head. The blood and bone dropped as I set him on the
stretcher. He was warm and still flexible like if he was still alive. I look
closer and saw that there was also a small hole in his forehead where whatever
hit him had entered. We loaded him in the back of the medical vehicle and I ran
to the next body. He was barely breathing and his body was limp. I grabbed his
hand and said “you’re going to be fine”. His eyes rolled back into his head and
I smacked him and told him “stay awake”. By the time I had gotten him to the
Bradley he bled out. His left leg was gone and most of the back side of his
body. His counterpart was running alongside us with his leg in hand. I took a
breath and looked around again and just saw bodies and pieces of
bodies.”
This is an
excerpt from a small portion of that day and not even the worst part of the
day. Ryan was only 22 years old that day but his final statement was that of a
young man way beyond his years.
“The true
wounds are not just one of flesh and bone, but of the mind after experiencing
such horror. Those are the ones you cannot treat only overcome it with a strong
will”.
Speaking out
for our loved ones,
Tim Kahlor,
father of Sgt Ryan S Kahlor
Military
Families Speak Out
