Sergeant Was Father Figure to Unit

As pallbearers stretched an American flag above the silver casket of Sgt. Richard L. Ford yesterday, three volleys of gunfire sounded in salute, but they came from another funeral on a busy day in the fields of white stone at Arlington National Cemetery.

Then it was Ford's turn, and seven riflemen cracked off 21 shots. As the first few notes of taps sounded from a bugler standing in a row of bare trees, a tall blond man in the crowd of mourners trembled, his head bent as he wept. A woman beside him stroked his shoulders with a gloved hand.

Brig. Gen. Bennie E. Williams collected the flag, which had been folded and tucked into a triangle of stars, and handed it to Ford's sister, Vanessa Migliore.

On a day of blue skies and boisterous winds that hinted of spring, Ford became the 314th service member killed in the Iraq war to be buried at Arlington. Ford, of East Hartford, Conn., died Feb. 20 in Baghdad from combat wounds. He was 40 years old and on his third tour of duty in Iraq.

"I really feel like a source of protection in my life is not there, and it's not easy," said Migliore, 41, of East Hartford.

Among what Ford leaves behind: a sister close enough in age and temperament that she considers herself his twin; a reputation for sacrifice and public service since before he joined the National Guard 12 years ago; a smile that could coax just about whatever he wanted from others; and an 11-year-old son, Michael D. Patrick.

Ford was one of four children; he also had two younger half-brothers. He and his sister were 11 months apart.

"We were like twins. We were inseparable. We finished each other's sentences," she said.

Ford joined the Connecticut Army National Guard in 1995. He was placed on active duty in June 2004 and was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 325th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team of the 82nd Airborne Division at Fort Bragg, N.C.

Family members said Ford talked about what it was like to be one of the older warriors in his unit, with the younger soldiers kiddingly calling him "Grandpa." But they looked up to him and sought his ear. He called them "Sgt. Son."

"The first thing you would notice about him was his million-dollar smile. That's what I'll miss most," said his aunt, Arlene Ford, 59, of Manchester, Conn.

Growing up in Colchester, Conn., Ford attended Bacon Academy and talked about becoming a police officer. It seemed the right job for someone who liked feeling adrenaline in his veins and serving his community, she said.

Ford also loved sports, especially the Boston Red Sox. (Baseball was one area where the brother's and sister's tastes diverged: She is a Yankees fan.)

When Migliore invited him to join her at a game at Yankee Stadium, Ford gladly accepted, braving Bronx fans by taking his seat near home plate attired in Red Sox gear.

He rooted for the Sox without fear and endured a hail of peanuts from Yankees fans with a smile. When fans chanted "1918!" -- a reference to the longtime curse on his team's World Series hopes -- Ford stood, waving his arms and conducting the crowd as if he were a maestro, Migliore said.

Ford was tight-lipped about what he had seen and done in the war. But he believed in the war's purpose even as he deplored the losses, she said.

"He was, like, 'I really want to go,' " Migliore said. "I have no doubt he died doing what he loved best."