We had never visited Section 60 before, but on this December day, just a few days before Christmas, I wanted to see the holiday wreaths that had been laid by Wreaths Across America as part of their annual project of decorating the graves.  As we approached the section, we just picked a row at random and began walking between two rows of graves.  About half way down the row, we spotted a soldier in camouflage uniform sitting on the chilly ground.  He was sitting cross-legged and his head was bowed.  He was rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm.  Not wanting to intrude, we kept on walking.  We spent some time in Section 60, reading names on the pristine marble headstones, shaking our heads in sadness at the short period of time between the dashes of the dates engraved neatly beneath the names.  Most of them were so young; babies really.  I couldn’t help but wonder what wonderful things they would have done with their lives had they had the chance to live them fully.

As we walked from row to row, I kept looking over my shoulder to the spot where the soldier still sat, still rocking.  From time to time he would reach out and lovingly caress the headstone; then he would return to his rocking.  He captivated my attention for a long period of time.  He brought tears to the eyes of my grown daughter and son-in-law, as well as my husband and myself.  After about half an hour, we reluctantly left Section 60 and walked to several other areas of the cemetery where wreaths had been laid.  We took some pictures and got ready to leave.  However, something drew me back to Section 60.  More than an hour later, I wanted to go back to see if this solitary soldier was still there.  Indeed, he was and he was still rocking rhythmically.  At that point, I got close enough to take note of the name on the headstone.  It read “Cpl. Matthew P. Wallace, U.S. Army.”   It gave his date of birth and date of death.  Beneath those details, it read “Operation Iraqi Freedom."   He was only 22 years old.

Haunted by the story of the soldier in camouflage and Matthew, I got on the internet as soon as we returned home and did a search.  I was able to find a MySpace page for Mary Wallace, Matthew’s mother, and immediately wrote to her to describe what we had seen.  I thought she would want to know that someone that had obviously been close to her son was so dedicated to him after his death.  Mary was indeed happy to hear from me, and she shared with me that she had also heard about this soldier from another mother that had visited the cemetery on a different day and witnessed the samething I had.  After a little research, she determined that the soldier we had seen had been her son’s roommate in Iraq and had actually spent three days in a row sitting vigil by Matthew’s grave.

The email exchange we began continued for several months.  We found we had much in common and although we had never met, it seemed to me that we had known each other for years.  When Mary sent me the essay she wrote after her Memorial Day visit to Arlington entitled “The Fellowship of the Devastated,”  I felt I had been hit by a thunderbolt.  Not only was it expertly written, but it spoke of so many raw emotions I sensed so many people must be feeling right along with her.  The idea for a book came almost immediately and when I ran the idea past Mary, she was on board right away.

We were finally able to meet in person in July 2007, when again my husband and I found ourselves in the Washington DC area visiting our kids.  Mary, her husband, Keith, my husband, Scott, and I shared a delightful three hour lunch at a charming restaurant at a small harbor in Maryland.  I enjoyed the best crab cakes I had ever tasted in my life and our friendship was cemented over a couple of bottles of white wine, some tears, and a lot of laughter.  The seedlings of "The Fellowship of the Devastated" were planted that day and so now Mary and I find ourselves on an enriching journey.

Holly Richardson and her husband, Scott, are the parents of two grown daughters and one son-in-law.  They live in Scottsdale, Arizona.  She is also the author of a memoir entitled “Letter to My Daughters” and a handbook entitled “How to Run an All-Night Graduation Party”, as well as several magazine and internet articles.  Her nephew, Steve, has orders to deploy to Afghanistan this December.

Mary Wallace and her husband, Keith, are the parents of three daughters and one son-in-law, in addition to their son Matthew, who gave his life for the United States of America on July 21, 2006.  Mary writes numerous blogs for her website.  They live in Lexington Park, Maryland.