Remembering Sgt Alex Carbonaro

March 19, 2007 marks the fourth anniversary of my unremitting efforts to denounce the deceit that led to our blundering foray into Iraq. This anniversary is tragically meaningful for my family.

As the storm clouds gathered over our country with the talk of invading Iraq, I became committed to doing what I could, in whatever way one person can, to stop the train wreck.

I was, however, standing on the tracks: on May of last year, my son, Sgt Alex Carbonaro, a Reconnaissance Marine team leader, was killed by a roadside bomb in Al Anbar on his second deployment. May 2006 seems like yesterday; my pain is still indescribably raw.

The moment in which I was notified of Alex's devastating injuries from the IED is frozen in time for me. The rest of my life after that moment is a different chapter begun on that day and playing until now as I reflect on this anniversary.

On that day, May 2, 2007, I was immersed in teaching my class of lively fifth grade boys at a private school in Washington DC. A light knock at the door diverted my gaze to the unexpected presence of the Chaplain of the school, standing inert at the doorway of the classroom. Our eyes met; with few words I understood the horror I had dreaded for so long. A primal scream fought to come out of me, but I left the classroom quietly with her. The Marines, after notifying my daughter-in-law in person had called the school to inform me that the previous night, Alex had suffered critical burns after his humvee had rolled over an IED. Two other teammates were burned as well in over 70% of their body and one member had been killed instantly. Four days later, I was in Landstuhl in Germany along with my husband, Alex's young wife and his mother-in-law. On May 10, I whispered my last words to my only child and and held him tenderly as he drew his last breath. His beloved teammates, whose names were the last he pronounced as he lay injured in Iraq before losing consciousness, also died from their injuries.

Alex never compromised on his selfless ideals of honor and duty. And he was a stickler for truth.

His mission to Iraq did not involve politics; it involved only accomplishing his mission, it was this sense of duty that he left with on his last perilous deployment. How did it come to happen that we allowed our country to go down this mistaken, inglorious path leading to deaths of these precious sons and daughters and bringing untold misery to Iraq? It would be easy to blame the ignorant or uneducated watcher of Fox News. But there is responsibility on the part of the catatonic American public at large who betrayed our young by standing by uselessly as truth was hijacked. The media, however, has the most blood on its hands, failing at every turn to do its part in exposing the deceit.

In my grieving heart there is still the hope that the shining principles that this country once stood for will come to life again, that there will be a pursuit of truth and justice. Perhaps, on a quiet night I will imagine my son's inimitable laughter, his lopsided smile, telling me, "You go, Mom".

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