FORT LEWIS — Master Sgt. Cheryl Kirk's cellphone wakes her late at night. These calls bring bad news as she learns of yet another soldier's death from the Iraq-based 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division.

"When my cellphone rings, my heart stops," said Kirk, who has remained behind at Fort Lewis as the top enlisted officer in a 1st Brigade support unit of some 300 soldiers.

Here at the base in recent months, Kirk has been responsible for arranging the memorial services for brigade soldiers who die in Iraq. She has developed a checklist to remind herself of the numerous details, from arranging for a bugler to figuring out who will offer tributes. Those tasks are becoming increasingly familiar; the brigade has lost 19 soldiers since deploying to Iraq in October.

The 38-year-old had planned to retire after sustaining a training injury that prevented her from being deployed to Iraq along with the rest of the brigade.

But she was asked to put off retirement to join the brigade's Fort Lewis support unit, and "I didn't want to say no."

Early on, much of Kirk's job involved logistics support for the brigade. But as fighting intensified, the casualties mounted. Her job also expanded to include providing support for the wounded men and women sent back to Fort Lewis.

That job earns her an early notice of the deaths, and with the time difference between Washington and Iraq, the phone calls often come well past midnight. So she makes sure she takes her cellphone to bed at home in Yelm.

One of Kirk's toughest moments came in late December, as a mess-hall suicide bomber took the lives of 22, six from the Fort Lewis brigade. Those soldiers were then honored and remembered in a joint memorial service at the base.

Last week, the brigade suffered the triple loss of Sgt. Adam Plumondore, Sgt. Frank Hernandez and Spc. Clinton Gertson, sending Kirk into another round of preparations for a joint service yesterday morning.

At the front of the chapel, three big color pictures of the men were on display, along with three pairs of boots and headwear that hung from rifles.

Kirk spent the final moments double-checking last-minute details like the front-row seating for family members. She gave a brigade wife a hug, then retreated to the rear of the chapel, where she stood erect through the service.

Friends have told Kirk that her job eventually will get easier. They say that numbness finally will set in, and she won't feel so much pain as she ponders the death of yet another brigade soldier. But so far, she says that hasn't happened and she doubts it ever will.

"I cry a lot," Kirk says. "I come to my office, close the door and cry where my soldiers can't see. Then I go out and do what I can to help take care of the families."

Hal Bernton: 206-464-2581 or hbernton@seattletimes.com