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So I gather. I truly apologize for sending along the e-mail. I should have checked it, but it did come from a reliable source from my experience. Both of us usually check it through Snopes, but doncha’ know the one time we don't.

I do think the thoughts are valid. It is the narrative we all want to hear, that we're winning and cleaning up the mess so they can all come home.

I correspond with a Gny. Sgt. and a Sgt. (as well as my Candidate), and know they are very short on details. They sensor every picture they took while over there and have little to say to me — of course, to my son, they say more.

I just know that the Marines I've met have been exceptional. The Officers I've met are (from a mother's standpoint) adorable — young or old — they are just a comfortable fit with me. They're not all perfect, but they are perfectly authentic Marines.

I can't begin to consider losing any of them. They are so fit and strong, straight and their movements are so controlled (it's almost like watching a dancer). It was a shock to hear my son say he wanted to go to OCS, but every man and woman his decision has brought into my life has enriched my existence and lifted my soul — even when they're being knotheads — and they can be.

I see the effects of what those who have deployed in the frontal assaults have seen in their eyes. They don't think I can, but I do. I see the pain in the being of parents who have lost their child — they speak in terms of before their child died or after. Regular time passing is measured now in increments before or after the loss.

I also see what's happening to those who have gone “balls out” and done their job and then come home to charges of dereliction of duty or worse. It pains me. Who can say what I would do under that kind of pressure, and I've seen a lot in my 60 years.

I pray for their safety. I pray for them from the tippy-tippy top of their heads to the tippy-tippy bottom (as my son used to say when he was little) of their feet. I want them home, safe and sound — soon.