VALLEY CENTER, Calif. -- Their hilltop home outside this rural community in northern San Diego County was the proudest possession of Billy and Shellie Dial.
To the Dials, the home on New Moon Lane represented safety for Shellie and their six daughters and 10 grandchildren while Billy, a Marine master gunnery sergeant, was deployed in Iraq. And it was where the Dials had planned to retire when Billy finishes his current hitch.
But in minutes last week, the Witch fire burned the Dials' dream home to the ground. Shellie e-mailed the bad news to her husband in Taqaddum, Iraq, where he is maintenance chief for a helicopter squadron. He is seven weeks into his fourth tour in Iraq.
"I told him I needed him home, but if his Marines needed him more, he should stay in Iraq," Shellie Dial said Sunday as she and four of her daughters surveyed the ashes that once were their home.
Also on Sunday, California National Guard Sgt. Jerrod Dett remained on duty in San Diego, despite the fact his Running Springs home was destroyed by the Arrowhead fire just hours after his unit was mobilized. He could ask for leave but had not.
"We have a mission to do," said Dett, 36, a food preparation specialist. "I want to concentrate on my job: getting food to the soldiers and to the people in the shelters."
It was a week of stress and fear for many in San Diego County, as multiple fires destroyed more than 1,580 homes, killed seven people and caused more than $1 billion in damage.
The anxiety was magnified for many military families, in which one spouse was at home and the other deployed, often thousands of miles away. Though only a handful of military families ended up losing their homes -- mainly because no on-base housing was destroyed -- the fires spread uncertainty for thousands.
Once again, military families were faced with a collision common to their lives, particularly since Sept. 11: the conflict between duty to country and duty to family.
Starting on the first day of the fire, Navy spouses, serving as ombudsmen for individual ships, begin firing off e-mails telling each ship's captain and crew of the growing catastrophe.
"They were all highly stressed," said Crystal Campbell, whose husband is aboard the Denver, a transport ship.
Through years of experience, the Navy has a highly developed system of getting deployed sailors in touch with their families, and also helping families cope with unexpected problems. Some 300 ombudsmen serve San Diego-based ships.
Many of the ombudsmen went through the Cedar fire in 2003 when the same notification system was used. "We've had a lot of training," Campbell said.
Sarah Schmidt, ombudsman for the amphibious assault ship Bonhomme Richard, arranged through the ship's captain to have each sailor make a three-minute phone call home. "It was mandatory," she said.
The Navy found on-base housing for families forced to evacuate their off-base homes. Eighteen families from the Bonhomme Richard were relocated, including two who remained unsure if their Ramona homes had been destroyed.
If the families were afraid, some sailors were frantic for news that everything was OK, or at least under control.
"When you're out there and something happens," said John Sarmento, whose wife is an officer aboard the Bonhomme, "you want to go home immediately, guns blazing, to help the family get through. But you can't. It's one of those things you have to accept as a Navy spouse."
When fire struck inside Camp Pendleton, disrupting training and forcing evacuation of some housing areas, commanders in Iraq ordered officers and senior enlisted personnel to brief their troops and keep them updated.
The Horno fire blazed for three days, burning more than 21,000 acres, but no structures were lost on base and all evacuees were back in their homes by the end of the week. Training for troops set to deploy to Iraq resumes today, base officials said.
To the Dials, the home on New Moon Lane represented safety for Shellie and their six daughters and 10 grandchildren while Billy, a Marine master gunnery sergeant, was deployed in Iraq. And it was where the Dials had planned to retire when Billy finishes his current hitch.
But in minutes last week, the Witch fire burned the Dials' dream home to the ground. Shellie e-mailed the bad news to her husband in Taqaddum, Iraq, where he is maintenance chief for a helicopter squadron. He is seven weeks into his fourth tour in Iraq.
"I told him I needed him home, but if his Marines needed him more, he should stay in Iraq," Shellie Dial said Sunday as she and four of her daughters surveyed the ashes that once were their home.
Also on Sunday, California National Guard Sgt. Jerrod Dett remained on duty in San Diego, despite the fact his Running Springs home was destroyed by the Arrowhead fire just hours after his unit was mobilized. He could ask for leave but had not.
"We have a mission to do," said Dett, 36, a food preparation specialist. "I want to concentrate on my job: getting food to the soldiers and to the people in the shelters."
It was a week of stress and fear for many in San Diego County, as multiple fires destroyed more than 1,580 homes, killed seven people and caused more than $1 billion in damage.
The anxiety was magnified for many military families, in which one spouse was at home and the other deployed, often thousands of miles away. Though only a handful of military families ended up losing their homes -- mainly because no on-base housing was destroyed -- the fires spread uncertainty for thousands.
Once again, military families were faced with a collision common to their lives, particularly since Sept. 11: the conflict between duty to country and duty to family.
Starting on the first day of the fire, Navy spouses, serving as ombudsmen for individual ships, begin firing off e-mails telling each ship's captain and crew of the growing catastrophe.
"They were all highly stressed," said Crystal Campbell, whose husband is aboard the Denver, a transport ship.
Through years of experience, the Navy has a highly developed system of getting deployed sailors in touch with their families, and also helping families cope with unexpected problems. Some 300 ombudsmen serve San Diego-based ships.
Many of the ombudsmen went through the Cedar fire in 2003 when the same notification system was used. "We've had a lot of training," Campbell said.
Sarah Schmidt, ombudsman for the amphibious assault ship Bonhomme Richard, arranged through the ship's captain to have each sailor make a three-minute phone call home. "It was mandatory," she said.
The Navy found on-base housing for families forced to evacuate their off-base homes. Eighteen families from the Bonhomme Richard were relocated, including two who remained unsure if their Ramona homes had been destroyed.
If the families were afraid, some sailors were frantic for news that everything was OK, or at least under control.
"When you're out there and something happens," said John Sarmento, whose wife is an officer aboard the Bonhomme, "you want to go home immediately, guns blazing, to help the family get through. But you can't. It's one of those things you have to accept as a Navy spouse."
When fire struck inside Camp Pendleton, disrupting training and forcing evacuation of some housing areas, commanders in Iraq ordered officers and senior enlisted personnel to brief their troops and keep them updated.
The Horno fire blazed for three days, burning more than 21,000 acres, but no structures were lost on base and all evacuees were back in their homes by the end of the week. Training for troops set to deploy to Iraq resumes today, base officials said.
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