During the Persian Gulf War, I was assigned to go to Saudi Arabia. As I was saying good-bye to my family, my three-year-old son, Christopher, was holding on to my leg and pleading with me not to leave. “No, Daddy, please don’t go!” he kept repeating.

We were beginning to make a scene when my wife, desperate to calm him, said, “Let Daddy go and I’ll take you to get a pizza.”

Immediately, Christopher loosened his death grip, stepped back and in a calm voice said, “‘Bye, Daddy.”

 

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