Her son, Alessandro, a Marine sergeant, was first deployed to Iraq in 2004. He took part in the battle for Fallujah that November and earned a Purple Heart. To protect her son, Gilda had been doing all one mother could to end the war.
Alex returned home, and in 2005 he married the woman he loved. He talked of life after the military. But despite the best efforts of his mother, the war did not end, and he redeployed to Iraq in March of this year. On May 1, the Humvee he rode in was destroyed by an IED. He suffered severe burns. Surrounded by his family, he died on May 10 at the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany.
After the memorial service, I was in front of the church with others from MFSO. Gilda was surrounded by mothers who are unfortunate authorities on this, the worst day of her life. Broken by a war that claimed their sons, they huddled and cried, insulating their collective pain from the piercing wind.
The Patriot Guard, a biker group that protects soldiers' funerals from protesters, stood at attention, holding their flags to the gusts with strength and diligence. The procession took us past the seats of the federal government to Arlington National Cemetery. Tourists were made to wait as streams of cars filtered by. We gathered for the burial, a mere stone's throw from the Pentagon and its architects of destruction.
Alex was laid to rest among others who have perished in the Iraq and Afghan wars. His grave site has plenty of empty space in front it. Six Marines folded a flag with uncanny precision, finally cradling it like a newborn as it was passed on to Alex's widow. The pop of gunfire sounded over our heads. "Taps" played in the distance.
