I burned through Jim Sheeler’s book, “Final Salute — A Story of Unfinished Lives (The Penguin Press, 2008, $25.95),” in two days.

Actually, it burned through me.

Sheeler, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, follows the wrenching journeys of a Casualty Assistance Calls Officer from the United States Marine Corps as the officer fulfills his devastating duty to knock on doors and inform people that their child or spouse is dead. Sheeler also tells the stories of people who answered the door, and how their lives were forever changed by that one dreadful encounter.

Sheeler avoids the controversy of war policy, and instead focuses with painful clarity on how USMC Major Steve Beck built lasting, caring relationships with those whom he visited with the most awful news possible. Beck is an extraordinary Marine, though he would be the first to reject such a compliment. Beck went far above the call of duty in helping parents, spouses, and children through the nightmare of their loved one’s violent deaths. Beck’s singular compassion and attention to detail are a standard for all CACOs to follow.

“Final Salute” is a heartbreaking book to read. It is, however, a book that demands to be read. With admirable skill and brisk pacing, Sheeler grabs readers by the collar and forces us to look at what we as a nation too often ignore, or forget — the soul-shattering grief of young lives destroyed by war, of mothers weeping over dead sons, of wives wailing at the sight of their husbands’ caskets, and of toddlers looking at pictures of fathers whom they will never know.

The section of color photographs in “Final Salute” sears unforgettable images into the mind. We see a sister with her dead brother’s face tattooed on the back of her neck “so he’s always watching my back”; we see a pregnant mother resting her belly on her husband’s flag-draped coffin; we see Marines sprinkling black sand from Iwo Jima on a pile of white dress gloves atop a brother Marine’s coffin; we see proud members of the Oglala Lakota Sioux tribe escort a fallen Marine to his final resting place; and we see an Army soldier pour a beer on his late brother’s grave.

Some might say that “Final Salute” is not a book for everyone. The stories within might well awaken sad memories for those who have endured the trauma of sudden death. And yet, for a nation at war that must be prepared for more dreadful knocks at the door, “Final Salute” should be for everyone — for the flag-wavers, the peaceniks, and everyone else, especially those who think that they will never be touched by the sorrow of war.

n John Deppen, of Northumberland, can be reached at GeneralWSH@qaol.com.