For Donna Burhans, the silence of her home in Winter Haven, Florida, can be deafening. When she sits inside, the weight of her grief becomes an anchor, pulling her into a depths of sorrow that feel insurmountable. To survive the day, the 67-year-old has developed a necessary ritual: she leaves the house and disappears into the wide, open spaces of her family’s 35-acre farm.
Among the cows, horses, dogs, cats and pigs, Burhans finds a unique kind of sanctuary. She gardens and walks the perimeter of the property, speaking aloud to the animals and, more importantly, to the memory of her son, Cody Khork. “They’re quality listeners,” she says with a small, fleeting laugh. “They sit there, and I start talking to Cody, or I start talking about him. He was a hero. I’m so proud of him. It just helps.”
Burhans is a mother mourning son Iran war casualties, one of many families grappling with the human cost of a conflict that has claimed 13 American lives. For the Burhans family, the tragedy is personal and precise. Cody, 35, was killed on March 1—the second day of the war—when a drone strike targeted a port in Kuwait. He was one of six Army reservists who perished in the attack.
The loss has left a void in a community that has rallied around the family. In Lakeland, his alma mater, Florida Southern College, has established an ROTC scholarship in his name to ensure his legacy of service continues. Locally, a barbecue restaurant has stepped forward to cater events honoring his memory, small gestures of communal grief meant to salve a wound that remains raw.
A Life Defined by the Uniform
For Cody Khork, the military was not a choice made in adulthood; it was a birthright. The son of a Marine, Khork grew up on military bases, spending his childhood marveling at air shows and “crawling” through the helicopters parked on the tarmac. His mother recalls a boy who loved the military life from “Day One.”
In his youth, he was known by the nickname “Twig.” He was so slender that he could vanish during paintball games by simply stepping behind a telephone pole. That lean frame eventually grew into the stature of a soldier. “He’s always been around the uniformed people, so he just loved it from an early age,” Burhans says. “I love that the Army gave him a chance to do what he loves to do.”
Khork’s career was marked by a restless commitment to duty. He served as a captain in the Army Reserve and carried out deployments across the globe, from Poland and Saudi Arabia to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. His final deployment took him to Kuwait. He was posthumously promoted to major, a reflection of a trajectory that he hoped would eventually lead him to a position within the Pentagon.
Beyond the rank and the medals, he left behind a fiancée. Burhans speaks of her with a quiet gratitude, noting that Cody had found his first real love. “I’m thankful for that — that he got to experience true love with a woman,” she says.
The Solemnity of Dover
The most harrowing moment of the last month occurred at Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. It was there that Burhans participated in a “dignified transfer,” the military ceremony where the remains of fallen service members are flown home and removed from aircraft in flag-draped containers. This proves a moment of absolute finality, stripped of everything but the heavy silence of loss.
During the ceremony, Burhans had a private encounter with President Donald Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth. She told them plainly that she did not want her son’s death to be in vain and urged the administration to continue prosecuting the war.
Her recollection of the president in that moment was not of a political figure, but of a man visibly affected by the tragedy. “You could tell when he walked into the room that he was distraught,” Burhans says. “He had his head down. And he was just a normal, caring person. He wasn’t the president when he walked into the room. He was just there to tell us how sorry he was.”
In that exchange, Burhans sought to absolve the commander-in-chief of any guilt. “I wanted him to know that I do not blame him. I do not blame anything that’s happened for my son’s death,” she says.
Conviction Amidst Conflict
While the world debates the merits of the U.S. War with Iran, Burhans finds comfort in her faith and in the judgment of the current administration. She views the military action as a necessary response to a regime she describes as a global menace that has long harbored hatred for America.
“It’s a long time coming,” she says. “It should have been done a long time ago, and Trump is the only one man enough to stand up and do it.”
Her support was not passive. In her meeting with the president, she urged him to see the mission through to the end. “I told him to finish it,” she says. “I said, ‘Head get ‘em.’ Here’s what my son signed up for.”
The president later addressed the grief of such families in a brief telephone interview, stating, “I feel so badly for those people.”
The Current State of the War
The conflict currently exists in a precarious state. Fighting has paused as negotiators attempt to broker a peace deal, though reports suggest the ceasefire remains strained. For the families of the 13 fallen Americans, the diplomatic maneuvering is a backdrop to a permanent, personal silence.
| Detail | Information |
|---|---|
| Rank | Captain (Posthumously promoted to Major) |
| Date of Death | March 1 |
| Location of Incident | Port in Kuwait (Drone Strike) |
| Previous Deployments | Poland, Saudi Arabia, Guantanamo Bay |
| Total U.S. Fatalities | 13 |
As the diplomatic process continues, the next major checkpoint will be the outcome of the current peace negotiations, which will determine whether the pause in hostilities becomes a permanent resolution or a prelude to renewed conflict.
If you or a loved one are struggling with grief or the loss of a service member, support is available through the Veterans Crisis Line or the National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988.
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