USA To die in war I Haven’t Lost You, My Friend On November 11th, Thomas K. Doerflinger, of the Washington, DC, community, died in Iraq. Herewith, memories and comments from his professor and friend by Thomas Tobin Last Thursday, a colleague of mine at Springbrook High School in Silver Spring came to tell me that Thomas had been killed in combat in northern Iraq. It was a complete shock to me and I was devastated. Of all the students in my ten years at Springbrook, there were none that were closer to me than Thomas. In these days since I learned of his death, I see him in my mind again and again in my living room last summer. He had been stationed in Washington on the West Coast and he was home on leave. He had called me from the base a number of times complaining about how he was struggling to make himself take college courses through the army so that he could work toward his degree before he finished his time in the service. I always encouraged him. I made him promise me that he would come back safely and that in a year’s time he would have completed some courses toward his degree. And now I know that was not to be. He was shot and killed by small arms fire as a group of insurgents attacked a police station in Mosel. I came to know Thomas when he was fifteen years old, a sophomore in our high school. That year two girls in our school wanted to start a Catholic Students Club and they asked me to be the sponsor. I was very happy to accept and we began our little club, which continues in our school today. The two organizers soon stopped coming, but in the meantime some other kids came who stayed with us. One of those was a quiet, pale, blond-haired boy who would seem at times distant and withdrawn, and then would surprise you by brilliant and insightful comments that revealed that he had always been present, observing and digesting everything that was in front of him. Thomas became our most faithful member. He always attended our meetings and he always came to our charitable work at a nursing home, which we did together with the GS community in Washington. Through these contacts, Thomas came to know and befriend some of the students in our GS group. He began to come with me to the School of Community on Fridays and then he became very attached to us. He came to all our meetings, activities, and vacations during his last two years of high school. It was beautiful to see him grow and change in that period. We all saw that although quiet by nature, he was really very funny. No one thought that he had enough fire in his belly to do an imitation of Chris Bacich (the leader of GS in the USA) at the summer vacation, but he not only did it well, he had us all in stitches. We saw him grow in the way he lived his friendships and in the way he lived his faith. There was something about Thomas that evoked in people a fondness for him. He was quirky, independent-minded, and at the same time boyish and vulnerable. At times I wanted to light a fire under his bottom to get him to come out of himself and to do the things he needed to do. At other times I wanted to protect what was good and noble in him from the hardness of the world. I felt very much like a father to him. Thomas never got himself down to the MVA to take the driver’s examination (very typical Thomas, a lazy genius), so he never got a driver’s license and I was always driving him to and from places. He would at times irritate me with his silences and then at the most unexpected moments he would speak of things that were very personal and deep. He had a sensitive soul and a wonderful, clear mind. On the day after we learned of Thomas’s death, many in our community gathered for a Mass for him in a local parish. I was heavy with sadness and very grateful for the words of Father Jose, who told us that the death of a friend does not cancel the beauty of our friendship. The content of these friendships that have been given to us as a grace is not something that can be eliminated. The content of these bonds within our communion is the One who has conquered death. The friendship of Thomas was a great gift to me, a beautiful surprise, but it is not now a gift that has been taken away. His death is the beginning of the fulfillment of that friendship and that bond has not been canceled.