I think their faces get me. There's a single moment when the loved ones left behind are reunited and it's brought out much more so when it's a surprise. In that very moment there's a pure and incorruptible sense of happiness and relief and your emotions come flooding out of you and you can't control yourself...that's why I still have some hope for the human race. The look on their faces, especially the children's, breaks me completely.
For the ones who leave on deployments, it was always easier for us because it was happening TO us; not that it was easy, but we were able to handle it better. Children are smart and they know that daddy or mommy may not come back...no matter how much people try to divert their attention, they're not stupid. The ones left behind bear the brunt of the emotional strain because all they know is that in 6 months to a year they'll be back. That's a lot to deal with for anyone, much less a child. It's not like they're on a business trip.
Anna and I were only dating at the time I was deployed, but we knew from the start it wasn't going to end. One night while talking to her over the phone at midnight in Balad, a mortar struck close and she goes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!?!" I had to abruptly tell her I'll call her back as soon as I can, whenever I can, and then hung up the phone. Diving under a desk in the tent was not how I wanted to allay her fears. Then there was the agonizing 2 hours she waited for me to call her back and tell her everything was ok...no thank you. I didn't want to put her through that anymore nor did I want to do that anymore, so I chose to get out a year later. Marines and Army had it much worse, so when I see those people and their children running to their father or mother or son or daughter and hugging them and crying uncontrollably, partly from relief and partly because they can't take it anymore, it hits me really, really hard.