Robin R. Mallard
We chose to write this memoir and remembrance of our son, US Army Captain Torre Mallard, after he was killed serving in Iraq on March 10, 2008.
Our family for so long managed the emotional balance between war’s specter of death , and our child’s blessed immortality that we were awed by the immediacy and permanence of his death. Since that time, as we have tried to regain our bearings life has taken unexpected turns. We learned that while we each had come to terms with our own deaths, we were just not equipped to contemplate the same for our son.
Torre faced danger daily in Iraq, yet in our hearts we knew that he would not risk himself needlessly nor imperil his life senselessly. We knew that he put the honor for his men and his duty above any desire for valor. His expression of love for his family, his country and God, we thought, would surely shield him and us from the losses so many other families experienced. We never thought we would see the day when we had to bury our son.
This story shares one good man’s life, and our journey through the search for meaning as we learn how to mourn his death. It is our hope that by sharing one families experience that we can help others. We do this to honor a good man, a good soldier and a good son.
Robin Renee Mallard, holds a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration, and a Master’s degree in General Administration. She currently works as an auditor with the Department of Defense, Office of the Inspector General. She has been an auditor for six years. As an auditor, she writes audit guides, working papers and audit reports.
It has been said that it is easy to remember special events, especially any event that causes a change in ones life, such as things that happen tragically. This statement must bear some truth, because the events of 9/11 are indelibly etched into my memory. It has been six and a half years since that dreadful day, and I still remember vividly what I was doing the very hour that tragedy occurred. Therefore, I will forever remember that dark Monday evening, March 10, 2008, when I received the telephone call from my daughter-in-law telling me that Torre had been killed in Iraq.
Usually, I would email Torre the Thursday before the Friday when I was scheduled to be off to let him know that I was going to be off on Friday and if he needed to email me, please email me at my home email address. Moreover, I had previously spoken with him a week earlier about a concern that I had. He called me on my job to see how I was doing, and to talk briefly about my concern. Torre kept in touch with his dad and me as often as he could.
The day our son perished, I was so busy at work I barely stopped to eat lunch. When it was time for me to leave work, I was thinking about all the things I had to do at home. I was driving home and had turned off Interstate 95 onto Route 1, and was in front of the Marine Base, Quantico, about fifteen miles away from our home when I received the telephone call from his wife. I remembered looking at the clock; it was 5:30PM.
