By Darrell Halen

They’re four Salem area women who share a common bond – mothers of men serving their country in military uniform.

And twice a month, over coffee and soda, they exchange stories and share their fears, giving each other moral support and, at times, a shoulder to cry on.

They call themselves “military moms.”

“We bounce ideas or vent or share stories,” said Lisa Desrosiers of Windham, whose son, Marine Lance Cpl. Edmund Vandecasteele, 20, is serving in Okinawa, Japan. “We’re proud moms. Every two weeks we have proud stories to tell. We’re just here for each other.”

The women began meeting regularly in November, and they find their talks to be therapeutic.

Their other friends are supportive but don’t understand what they are going through. In this group, the women talk with fellow moms who know what it’s like to not hear from a son for weeks, not see him for months, miss him during the holidays and worry about his safety.

“We’re all in the same boat,” said Pam Rochon Russell, whose son, Thomas, 20, is serving in Afghanistan.

And they’ve tapped into each other’s experiences and knowledge to get answers to their questions: What will boot camp be like for him? Will he be able to call home? How do I get a birthday cake to him? How long does it take to ship his Christmas presents? Can he get a military discount on his flight when he comes home for leave?

“I really had no one to talk to, to ask questions, to ask advice,” said Desrosiers. “And it’s just nice that there are other moms in the same situation.”

The women, whose sons are Salem High School graduates, share photos, update each other on their boys’ lives and teach each other about what they’ve learned about the military through their experiences.

“There’s so much to bounce off each other and learn,” said Russell, who hasn’t seen her son in 11 months.

The mood at their meetings is generally upbeat, but the women do share their worries for their sons’ safety. Russell’s son is doing dangerous work – he’s a combat engineer blowing up mountainsides to build roads and leading convoys in a one-man Husky to clear roads of improvised explosive devices.

“There are times you talk about the fears,” said Russell. “My son’s blowing up the side of a mountain or the snipers or the suicide bomber that killed someone in his group. That can bring the emotion out, and with these girls, that’s OK.”

“This is the place to let it out,” added Sandy Bohne.

Bohne would know. One of her sons, Joseph, was injured in June 2006, when a roadside bomb blew up near the Humvee he was riding in while on patrol in Iraq. The explosion claimed the life of a fellow soldier.

“We can relate to the same fears,” said Bohne, whose son, James, 17, is in the Marine’s delayed entry program. “Everyone can sympathize when you have a child that is deployed or injured or whatever happens but to actually have someone – It’s just a completely different feeling of not having a child with you. You don’t know until you’ve gone through it.”

For Lucille Penny, her situation is a bit different. Unlike the other mothers, whose sons are single, her son is married and has children.

While Staff Sgt. Mark Penny, 35, of the New Hampshire Army National Guard is serving in the military police over in Baghdad, his wife, Tracie, and their two children, Spenser, 7, and Harlee, 2, are living in Raymond. A third child is due in a few days.

Spenser wants Lucille to promise that his daddy will come home – something she can’t do.

“It’s been rough but you get through it day by day,” she said.

To date, the women have kept their group small but now they’re ready to expand. They welcome others to join their conversations.

“We just want to get the message out,” said Desrosiers, “that if anyone needs to talk, we’re here.”