Between interviews, Sherri wiped away his sweat.
"I've got to do makeup real quick," Cpl. Hennagir quipped to one journalist.
One reporter asked Sherri about the wedding, and she told him they're hoping for May, and she has hired a wedding planner.
"A little overwhelming?" the reporter asked.
"Little?" she replied. "I didn't know there were so many kinds of napkins."
Hennagir made small talk with a group of Marines living in these barracks, men he had come to know well though they were not in his platoon.
He said to one Marine, only 5-foot-7: "Hey, I'm shorter than you now. I used to be 5-9."
Word came that the bus was 10 minutes away. Hennagir positioned himself at the curb, right where the bus would stop, so he would be the first person the Marines saw stepping off.
The bus arrived. The men filed off, and one by one they greeted Hennagir. Some shook his hand; others hugged him.
The emotion was as choked as the words were routine:
"Hey, Ray-Ray, what's up?"
"Good to see you."
"So how long you staying?"
"Let's go drink."
"Did they fit you for your legs yet?" one asked.
"They measured me," Hennagir replied.
"You look good," the Marine said.
"I was so scared I wasn't going to make it," Hennagir told his platoon leader, Lt. Cleary. "I needed to be here so bad."
"It felt like a brother was gone," Cleary told him.
The men were called into formation.
The entire platoon, home from Iraq not 15 minutes, stood at attention while Cpl. Raymond D. Hennagir was awarded a Marine Corps Achievement medal. This was a surprise. His contributions in Iraq were recited, and a medal pinned to his chest.
And then 27 United States Marines, one by one, hugged him again and congratulated him.
He held back his tears, as they held back theirs, or tried to.
Until the last two men in line.
The first was his squad leader, Cpl. Scottie McDaniel, who couldn't help himself. He let the tears flow.
"I'm going to miss you," he whispered in Hennagir's ear.
Hennagir held McDaniel tight, hoping his squad leader would regain his composure so others wouldn't see him weeping. Hennagir couldn't hold him any longer, let him go.
Still, Hennagir held back his own tears.
Until the very last man hugged him.
Sgt. Kevin Proffitt, who looked as if he could start at linebacker for any team in the National Football League, wept in Hennagir's arms. Hennagir didn't see the sergeant's tears, but he felt the sergeant's heaving chest against his own.
The moment was as short-lived as the tears Hennagir shed, but it was also one he will remember all his days.
He was a Marine, with his unit. They were home safe.
And he was one of them.
For a video of Cpl. Raymond D. Hennagir's reunion with his platoon, and to hear an interview with the corpsman who saved his life, go to
Contact staff writer Michael Vitez at 215-854-5639 or mvitez@phillynews.com.
