The infantry unit from Northeast Philadelphia is part of a 750-member task force of the Pennsylvania National Guard that will join 1,300 other Pennsylvania Guard troops already in Iraq. Not since World War II has the state had so many guardsmen in a combat zone.
Each man, as a civilian-soldier, knew this day could come. But four of them, in extended conversations, said that had not made the break any easier. They describe feeling a disorienting mix of dread, loss, hope and excitement.
Capt. Anthony Callum, 43, the company commander, has hoarded his free hours for his wife and four children, ages 13 and under. On Wednesday, he was a guest at his daughter Mary's third-grade class in the Central Bucks School District. Mary bounced down the hall with her father's military cap over her eyes, corn-silk hair flying. It was hard to think he would be gone for 14 months.
Sgt. Brian Boos, 29, an unmarried Philadelphia police detective, sold his car rather than leave it parked. He was in a rented Dodge Sebring, going to pick up his mother for dinner Tuesday at an Olive Garden, when his cell phone rang. It was an uncle telling him his father had died.
Now he is dealing with grief and sudden, last-minute responsibility.
Army Spec. Stephen Madison, 24, and Spec. Tony Khouli, 19, friends in Allentown, quit jobs and college plans when the company was mobilized in June for Iraq training at Fort Bliss, Texas. Khouli said his girlfriend left him: "She didn't want to wait for me. " Ending a 20-day leave, the two soldiers have been eating mothers' and grandmothers' cooking, and shooting pool at Rookie's, an Allentown bar.
"I love my civilian life," said Madison, pool cue in hand. "There's a part of me that's not too happy about going, but there's also a part of me that wants to go - because this is what I signed up to do. "
"Everybody's scared," said Khouli, fingering the neck of a Miller Lite. "You might not come home. But I knew that, signing up that day in my kitchen. I always wanted to do this. "
Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, about 7,000 of 16,000 Pennsylvania Army National Guard troops have been called to active duty. Some guarded U.S. bases in Europe so that regular Army troops could go to the Middle East. Others served as peacekeepers in Bosnia and Kosovo.
The Pennsylvania Guard entered Iraq in force in the spring. Three of its members have been killed, and 50 have been wounded.
The 140-member Alpha Company, which is part of the 1-111th Infantry Battalion, will be going to Iraq with other Guard units that include an engineering company from Philadelphia along with troops from Carlisle, Johnstown, Connellsville, Ford City and Pittsburgh. Together, they will be called Task Force Dragoon.
Twelve of their 14 months away from home will be in Iraq, where they expect to do security patrols in Humvees.
For Callum, who in civilian life works for a health-care consulting firm, the assignment will culminate 15 years of Guard training. He earlier spent four years in the Navy and was aboard a ship off Lebanon in 1983 when 241 Marines were killed in Beirut in a suicide bombing in their barracks.
The truth is, when he joined the Guard in 1989, he never expected to go to war. The Army, after all, had gone through the entire Vietnam War without mobilizing guardsmen. The Guard, in fact, had been seen as a haven by youths hoping to avoid the draft.
But after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the close of the Cold War, the Army scaled back its active divisions and began to rely more on the Guard and Reserve in war-fighting plans. Since 9/11, many, if not most, Guard troops and reservists throughout the country have been tapped for active duty. The current total stands at 182,478.
Callum had thought about quitting the Guard this year. Now he has mixed feelings about having stayed. He does not want to be separated from his family for so long, but he admits feeling thrilled at the possibility of leading men into combat. This is what he is trained for.
"When I told my kids, they were upset; they had seen the news and knew about Iraq," he said. "They wanted to know why I had to go. I just told them there were little kids over in Iraq who needed my help, too. "
In recent days, besides visiting daughter Mary's classroom - and folding his 6-foot-2 frame onto a kiddie seat - he has gone with the third grade on a field trip to a Lansdale farm. He was also the story-reader one day in his son Thomas' kindergarten room. With grandparents, the family gathered for an early Thanksgiving dinner.
His wife, Katy, said she would cope in his absence.
"We're doing well. We have a lot of support from friends and family. The kids know Daddy is leaving to do something very important. . . . But I don't have the TV on. "
As the commander, Callum regards his company as sort of a family in its own right.
Which was why he was so concerned to learn that Boos had lost his father just six days before he was to fly out.
At 5:30 Tuesday evening, Boos had been shuffling around the sparsely decorated Burholme bungalow, with its naked plastic Christmas tree, that he shares with three friends. Earlier he had driven to Maguire Air Force Base in New Jersey to have patches and stripes sewn on new uniforms, and to pick up trip provisions at the base store. He was planning to go to the battalion's annual banquet Friday night.
Soft-spoken and easygoing, he does not fit the stereotype of the hard-bitten detective. "I'm not a mean-oriented guy," he said.






