Honor Roll

“... every Friday morning, for the past three months, I've posted the official list of Starfleet personnel killed, wounded or missing in the war. It's become something of a grim ritual around here. Not a week goes by that someone doesn't find the name of a loved one, a friend or an acquaintance on that damned list.

“I've grown to hate Fridays.”
--- Captain Benjamin Sisko
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine “In the Pale Moonlight” by Ronald D. Moore.

I watch every day and each time I hope it won't happen this time, or that the number will be low. I remember when The News Hour began its honor roll of service men and women who had falled in Afghanistan or Iraq, when there were just two or three, rank and name followed by age and place of birth or residence and above a picture of the deceased, usually in uniform, though occasionally in civilian clothes and smiling before a birthday cake or posing for a picnic photo. Just normal.

But how they died wasn't normal. It wasn't a car accident or cancer. In the vast majority of cases, it was an improvised explosive device, a homemade bomb planted on the roadside and disguised with trash. You wonder if a death like that is quick? Did they know? Were their lives mercifully switched off before they could notice?

As the television begins to display the list in silence, I shift my posture; feet flat on the floor, back straight and hands at my side. I want to show them respect. I read each name and age and place and I study each picture before the next one appears.

Tonight, there were twenty more.