Families mourn the fallen

Army Pfc. Francheska Velez, 21, had only recently returned from deployment in Iraq, where she disarmed bombs. Pregnant, she was preparing to head home to Chicago.

A friend, Sasha Ramos, described Velez as a fun-loving woman who wrote poetry and loved dancing.

"She was like my sister," Ramos said. "She was the most fun and happy person you could know. She never did anything wrong to anybody."

Velez was one of 13 people killed, authorities say, when an Army psychiatrist, Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan, opened fire Thursday on fellow soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas. Other victims included a newlywed who had also served in Iraq, a civilian employee who had just recovered from a heart attack, and a woman who had vowed to take on Osama bin Laden after the 9/11 attacks.

President Obama said yesterday that until Veterans Day next Wednesday, flags at the White House and other federal buildings would be flown at half-staff to honor the victims. "We stand in awe of their sacrifice," he said.

Gov. Rendell issued a similar order for government facilities in Pennsylvania.

A Pentagon-ordered moment of silence was observed yesterday on all U.S. military installations worldwide at 2:30 p.m. Eastern time - the hour the Fort Hood shooting began.

Family members said Velez had sought a lifelong career in the Army.

"She was a very happy girl and sweet," said her father, Juan Guillermo Velez, his eyes red from crying. "She had the spirit of a child."

He said it had been his dream to serve in the military, Chicago's WBBM-TV reported, and his daughter had fulfilled his dream.

Ramos, 21, who also briefly served in the military, could not reconcile that her friend was killed in this country - just after leaving a war zone. "It makes it a lot harder," she said.

Pfc. Aaron Thomas Nemelka, 19, of the Salt Lake City suburb of West Jordan, was scheduled to be deployed to Afghanistan in January. Family members told the Deseret News that he planned to officially ask his girlfriend to marry him when he returned home in December for a short visit before going overseas.

Nemelka, the youngest of four children, chose to enlist in the Army last year instead of going on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, his uncle Christopher Nemelka said.

"Aaron was as soft and kind and as gentle as they come, a sweetheart," his uncle said. "What I loved about the kid was his independence of thought."

Spc. Jason Dean "J.D." Hunt, 22, of Frederick, Okla., went into the military after graduating from high school in 2005 and got married two months ago, said his mother, Gale Hunt. He had served 31/2 years in the Army, including time in Iraq.

His mother described him as family-oriented. "He didn't go in for hunting or sports," she said. "He was a very quiet boy who enjoyed video games."

Sgt. Amy Krueger, 29, of Kiel, Wis., had just arrived at Fort Hood on Tuesday and was scheduled to be sent to Afghanistan in December, said her mother, Jeri Krueger.

She joined the Army after the 2001 attacks and vowed to take on bin Laden, her mother told the Herald Times Reporter of Manitowoc, Wis.

Jeri Krueger recalled telling her daughter she could not take on bin Laden by herself.

"Watch me," her daughter replied.

Civilian employee Michael Grant Cahill, 62, a physician assistant, suffered a heart attack two weeks ago and returned to work at the base after taking just one week off for recovery, said Keely Vanacker, the oldest of Cahill's three adult children.

"He survived that," she said. "He was getting back on track, and he gets killed by a gunman."

Cahill, of Cameron, Texas, helped treat soldiers returning from tours of duty or preparing for deployment. "He loved his patients, and his patients loved him," Vanacker said.

Cahill had worked at Fort Hood about four years, after jobs in rural health clinics and at Veterans Affairs hospitals. He and his wife, Joleen, had been married 37 years.

Vanacker described her father as a gregarious man and a voracious reader who could talk for hours about any subject.

The family's Thanksgiving dinners ended with board games and long conversations over the table, said Vanacker, whose voice cracked with emotion as she remembered her father. "Now, who I am going to talk to?"