When the Headlines Have a Face
7/25/2026
United States
Iran
“The soldier, above all others, prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” — Dwight D. Eisenhower
I would like to start this blog with three words for my active-duty service member readers: I SEE YOU.
For those of us reading from the outside, I am sure many of us have seen the recent headlines about Iran, the United States, and attacks on U.S. military bases throughout the Middle East. For many people, those headlines may feel far away, political, confusing, and even abstract. But for me, they feel deeply personal because I keep thinking about a young service member I met at the Denver airport several months ago.
I think that is what gets lost in all the headlines. There are so many of them that we can become overwhelmed and lose sight of what is truly happening. We read them, scroll past them, maybe talk about them for a minute or two, and then move on with our busy lives. But many active-duty service members do not get the luxury of scrolling past it. They are living it. They are someone’s son or daughter, someone’s brother or sister, someone’s husband or wife, or someone’s father or mother. With this, let me introduce you to Marcus.
Several months ago, while waiting for my flight to San Diego, I sat down in the waiting area, excited to read my new book. But I kept getting distracted by a young man sitting alone in the corner. He looked about nineteen or twenty. His eyes were red and swollen, and it was obvious he had been crying. He kept shifting in his chair, trying desperately to hide his face. Because I absolutely love being a mother, my instinct kicked in. (Yes, girls, you are my greatest accomplishment.) I put my book back into my bag, walked over, and sat next to him.
I introduced myself and smiled, hoping not to make him nervous. I told him I was not a weirdo, except maybe to my two daughters, who were about his age. He smiled shyly and introduced himself. His name was Marcus. He had warm brown eyes, short curly hair, and freckles across his nose. He told me he was in the U.S. military and was headed to San Diego for intense desert training before deploying to the Middle East for the next few years. After he said that, Marcus became quiet. To fill the silence, I rambled a little, telling him stories about my daughters to help him feel more comfortable. He laughed at their antics and slowly became more engaged in the conversation. I told him about my writing, the incredible people I had met along the way, and the deployment stories veterans had shared with me. I also told him about my own experiences working side by side with the U.S. military.
Marcus opened up and told me he had just returned from leave after visiting his family. Raised by a single mother, he had joined the military to help support them. But even as he prepared for what was ahead, I could tell his heart was still back home. He was worried about his little brother, who had been acting out and adding more stress to his mother’s life. Marcus felt torn. In that moment, his hands were tied. His life now belonged to the U.S. military, and no matter how much he worried about his family, there was very little he could do from where he was going. He worried that if something happened to him, no one would be there to care for them. He worried his little brother would cause more chaos and end up in detention. As Marcus shared his fears, two large tears fell down his cheeks. I just sat there and listened. After he shared his fears, he looked at me and smiled shyly. “Thank you. I needed someone to talk to.” I smiled back, told him to stand up, and gave him a big hug. We boarded our flight, took our seats, and when we arrived in San Diego, he got off first. He waited for me, smiled, and I smiled back, gave him a two-finger mock salute, and said, “Good luck, kiddo!”
That is why I have not been able to stop thinking about Marcus. He is not just a statistic in a headline. He is a real person, like so many of his fellow service members. He is trying to be brave while carrying worries no one around him can see. He is serving his country while still being a son, a brother, and a young man who misses home. He is not simply part of a larger story about countries and conflict. He is a young service member carrying invisible weight while the rest of the world keeps scrolling through the war headlines.
So the next time you read a headline about what is happening between Iran and the United States, I hope you pause for a moment. I hope you remember that behind every conflict are real people carrying fear, duty, love, hope, and courage in ways we may never fully see or understand. I hope you remember Marcus.
To Marcus and every active-duty service member whose story is bigger than any headline: I SEE YOU.