In the Cleveland suburb of Berea, a group of mothers share a common bond. They are all Ohio women who have lost sons in the war in Iraq.
They have felt the real impact of this war in a way that is hard for many to imagine or comprehend. But they don't necessarily share the same opinions about the cause for which their sons died.
On Aug. 1, six Marines were killed in an ambush near Haditha. The deadliest roadside bombing of the war occurred two days later. Rosemary Palmer's son, Augie Schroeder, was one of those killed.
"He was in a troop carrier," Palmer said. "There were 14 guys and a translator, and there was a triple bomb explosion, and it blew it upside down, and it killed everyone inside except the driver, who was blown out of the vehicle before it flipped over and everyone else died. And so when you have that many guys dying at once, that had a huge impact -- not just on guys' families but also on the families of the others."
Nowhere was the grief felt more deeply than in Ohio. Nearly all those killed in the incidents belonged to a single Marine reserve unit based here -- the Third Battalion of the 25th Marines. Many of them came from a single company of that unit, Lima Company, which recently returned from Iraq.
Once called "Lucky Lima," the company lost 24 of its 160 Marines during its brief seven-month deployment.
"Lima Company is here for you," Lima Company Commanding Officer Maj. Stephen Lawson told the families. "We are here to help you bring closure, to provide comfort and to help you move on with your lives. But we can never replace your loved ones nor would we ever try. We are here for you now and always."
Losses Bring the War Home
The losses brought the war home to Ohio like never before.
"If you have to lose your son at age 27, defending your nation is probably the most honorable way to do it," said Robert Hoffman, a former Marine himself, whose son, Justin, was killed in the roadside attack
"These Marines lived here and their families live here," Hoffman said, "so once they were deployed and especially when they started taking casualties, yes, I think people really began to understand what this war was about."
A group of Ohio parents, who have all lost a child in the war in Iraq, meet regularly to talk and share their concerns.
"All us families, I think we would rather just be able to meet like we do, mourn our children, be proud of our children and call it a day. But we can't because we are bombarded with anti-war things," said Julie Ramey, whose son, Staff Sgt. Richard Ramey, was killed in February 2004.
She organized the group as more and more Ohio families lost their sons in Iraq. The number of dead is now more than 100.
"All I knew how to do was reach out to them and say 'We'll be all right.' And we have become very close," Ramey said. "And I actually feel like I know their sons when I never met them, but through the moms and dads and us getting together.
The Ohio families hold a variety of views about what needs to be done in Iraq, but they feel a need to be heard.
"If you don't have a personal interest in it, there's nothing to pull you in," said one family member. "And so we're saying, 'Look, borrow our son if you will. Look at it through his eyes and through our eyes about what's going on over there and about what's happening.'"
ABC News' Cynthia McFadden filed this report for "Nightline."