Kawaguchi, 60, a soft-spoken man who served two tours in Vietnam with the Army's 1st Cavalry Division, said his immigrant parents taught him to be thankful to be in America.

Today he is proud of his son, Bryce — a 2001 graduate of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point — who is a captain fighting in Iraq. And he is equally proud of his younger son, Casey, who entered the U.S. Air Force Academy this year.

"Whatever little part my two kids can do, I'm happy," he said.

But that doesn't mean he's not worried.

Kawaguchi is well aware Casey entered a military academy in a time of war and that at some point he could find himself in harm's way. And although he is confident that Bryce is exceedingly well trained as an Army Ranger, he knows that "training won't stop a bullet."

"We are worried about Bryce," Kawaguchi said. "There is no doubt if he could come back tomorrow, I would say, 'Yes, come back."'

It's the same with Casey. "I'm very proud and worried because of the war," he said.

Kuamo'o-Peck, 55, felt the same way when her son, Kekoa, applied to the Air Force Academy last year.

"I am worried that he may end up in some war zone somewhere," she said.

But Kekoa had wanted to fly since seventh grade, and she and her husband realized that one of the best ways for him to become a pilot would be through the military. She also liked the idea that Kekoa could retire after 20 years and perhaps fly commercial aircraft.

For now, however, she recognizes that the longer Kekoa is in the Air Force, the more likely it is that he'll see combat.

And that makes watching the news difficult. Every time she hears about an American being killed in Iraq, she thinks "that could be my son."