Peter Andrew McKenna, Jr. always wanted to be a soldier. At 5 years old, he told his parents he wanted to join the Army. At 7 years old, he said he wanted to join the Special Forces. As a boy, he would dress in fatigues and lead the neighborhood kids in Army games. He got all of them wearing fatigues, too.

Thirty years later, that little boy in fatigues was not just a solider — he was an elite soldier. Among the best of the best. Master Sgt. P. Andrew McKenna (he always went by "Andrew"), an Army Green Beret, a member of 1st Battalion, 7th Special Forces Group (Airborne), died a soldier while defending his Camp Integrity base in Kabul, Afghanistan, from Taliban attackers.

The Pentagon has released few details of the Aug. 7 attack, but according to CNN, a Pentagon spokesman confirmed that Taliban insurgents used an IED (improvised explosive device) in a vehicle to breach the fence. Also according to CNN, a firefight erupted and four Taliban attackers were killed. Sgt. McKenna was the lone Coalition Forces casualty.

Though she was not there at the time of the attack, Sgt. McKenna's girlfriend has intimate knowledge of that base, as well as what took place that night. A physical therapist in the Navy, Samantha "Sam" Letizio spent three months at Camp Integrity, where she met Sgt. McKenna for the first time.

"I have no doubt in my mind, he saved 300 lives that night," Ms. Letizio said. "Everyone over there knows it. He's everybody's hero there."

While talking, Ms. Letizio was sitting at the kitchen table in the McKenna home on Cliff Drive in Bristol. She and Sgt. McKenna's mother, Carol McKenna, were looking through old photos and remembering him. Reluctant to say anything more about the attack or what killed her boyfriend, Ms. Letizio described Sgt. McKenna's role at Camp Integrity.

Though his rank was Master Sergeant, his job was First Sergeant for the base. That means he was the person most responsible for base security and safety, including training personnel — like a Navy physical therapist, or an Army general — on how to protect themselves, and defend themselves, in that environment.

"His job was to keep the camp safe and prepared, and he took his job very seriously," Ms. Letizio said. "I felt so safe with him there."

Returning to the events of Aug. 7, Mrs. McKenna added, "You know how most of us hear people screaming for help, and we run the other way. Not Andrew. He went running right into it." Sgt. McKenna died in the firefight, and one of his best friends, Master Sgt. George Vera, was severely wounded. The McKennas are close with Sgt. Vera. Mrs. McKenna called him, "my third son."

A knock on the door

Mrs. McKenna and her husband, Peter McKenna, were used to living with a son in harm's way. This was Andrew's sixth deployment overseas — one in Iraq and five in Afghanistan — so they were accustomed to the stress and anxiety of having their oldest son in a war zone.

Through modern technology, they would "talk" often, sometimes in a live Skype session, sometimes in Facebook messaging. Mrs. McKenna and her son were chatting through social media Friday afternoon, at around 2:30 in the afternoon here (which would have been after 11 p.m. his time), talking about the end of Sgt. McKenna's deployment, which would have been Oct. 1.

"I remember telling him he had his life in order," she said. He was planning his return to his base in Florida, arranging to get his stuff from storage, arranging his living situation, getting his car ready, and getting started on his master's degree program.

Sgt. McKenna had recently obtained his bachelor's degree in Strategic Studies from Norwich University, and both his mother and girlfriend talked about how hard he worked to finish that program. "Every time we saw him, he had his head in the computer," Mrs. McKenna recalled.

Added Ms. Letizio, "He really worked so hard for that."

Sgt. McKenna finished the program while stationed overseas, working full-time and studying in his free hours. He graduated magna cum laude. The mother-son chat ended abruptly at 2:40 p.m. on Friday. That wasn't unusual. Their conversations would sometimes end if Sgt. McKenna was distracted, or more likely, if he fell asleep.

Mom sent him one last message, saying "either you got busy, or you fell asleep … I love you, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She and her husband went out to dinner with friends that night and had a great time. "We were all so happy," she said.

At 11:50 p.m., someone knocked on the door. Mrs. McKenna was still awake, but Mr. McKenna was not. She woke him up and went to the side door to look out. Unable to see anything clearly, she stepped outside and that's when she realized what was happening. She could see the car and the men in uniform at the front door.

"Don't answer that door!" she yelled to her husband.

In the kitchen five days later, she said, "It's almost like if you don't answer it, it won't be real." It was real. Their son was dead. This is the second son they will bury. Younger brother Patrick McKenna died 10 years ago, in August of 2005, in a motorcycle crash.

Smart kid, but not in class

Growing up in Bristol, Andrew McKenna wasn't much of student. "His father used to joke with him as he was leaving for school, 'maybe you can remember to bring a pen today,' " Mrs. McKenna said. "I'm telling you, he was extremely smart, but you'd never know it by his grades. I don't think he ever brought a book home."

Andrew played Pop Warner football in Bristol, as well as his freshman year at Mt. Hope High School. In his sophomore year, he switched to track and ran hurdles and relay races and did the high jump. At one time, he held the school's high jump record.

He graduated with the Class of 1998 and enlisted in the Army a month later. Though Andrew didn't care that much about the classroom, that didn't tell the whole story. According to Mom, Andrew scored 1500 on his SATs and was one of the smartest kids around. When he graduated magna cum laude from college, Mrs. McKenna said, "I was impressed, but not surprised."

She said her son was somewhat of a homebody when he was younger, but he was never one to sit around and watch cartoons. He watched the History Channel. When she heard that, Ms. Letizio blurted out, "that's how he knew so much!"

His girlfriend was always amazed by Sgt. McKenna's knowledge. "When he visited me in California last month (during his R and R from Afghanistan), we went to the zoo. We're looking at the elephants and he says, 'why do they have Indian elephants in the African exhibit.' He could tell by the shape of their ears."

'She could be the one'

Ms. Letizio was impressed with Sgt. McKenna's intellect, but that's not all she was impressed with. She said Sgt. McKenna had a presence that was unmistakable. When she first arrived at Camp Integrity last December, she reported to the 1st Sergeant on the base. She expected to find an overweight, older officer. Instead, she found a young, buff stud out of central casting.

"I walked away thinking, 'I think I have a crush on the First Sergeant,' " she said. She remembers him fondly, with admiration for the soldier and the man, not to mention the physique. "He used to work so hard at everything," she said. "On his papers for college, on his job, in his workouts … He worked out for an hour to an hour and a half every day. I remember him doing pull-ups, with a 45-pound plate around his waist, doing sets of five at a time."

Back at the kitchen table, Mrs. McKenna joked that her son had girlfriends over the years, but none who emerged as "the one." Then he met Ms. Letizio. "Something was different," Mrs. McKenna said. "At one point, he sent an email saying, 'Mom, she could be your daughter-in-law.' "

His future was bright

Both women had optimism about Sgt. McKenna's future. They said this would have been his final overseas tour, that he planned to get started on his master's degree, spend three to five more years Stateside in the Army, and then retire from military service. He wanted to be in executive management for a company, potentially a contractor for the U.S. military, but in a role where he could be here more than there.

Regardless of what path he chose, they have no doubt he would have been a success. They say he was a natural-born leader and motivator with an infectious smile. Mrs. McKenna has been overwhelmed with the response to her son's death from friends and family, but nothing has affected her like the calls from fellow Special Forces soldiers.

"It's been the toughest thing of all, hearing from these guys. They are the toughest guys you could meet. Big, strong men … and they break down sobbing on the phone," Mrs. McKenna said. Those men, active and inactive Army Rangers, are flying into Bristol, today, tomorrow and every day from now to the funeral.

"It amazes me how tight-knit these Special Forces units are," Mrs. McKenna said. "These are his brothers." Mrs. McKenna hopes people withhold flowers and consider donating to a charity close to the family's heart — the Wounded Veteran Retreat Program, inspired by a close friend who lost both his legs in combat.

Army Ranger Chris Corbin was a dog handler on patrol when he stepped on an explosive device. He's now a motivational speaker and leader for the nonprofit that creates positive experiences for wounded veterans.

He's everybody's now

As their world flipped upside down in the past week, the McKennas realized their son's life and death are bigger than they could have imagined. The story generated national attention, and they've been inundated with media and requests for interviews every day since the news broke.

Private by nature, they've refused nearly all requests, yet they understand that thousands of people are mourning Andrew's death. Mr. McKenna at one point said, "He's everybody's now."

They will gather Sunday afternoon at St. Mary of the Bay Church in Warren to greet the thousands expected for the wake, which is scheduled for five hours, from 3 to 8 p.m. On Monday, they will hold a funeral service at that same church, and then proceed to St. Mary's Cemetery in Bristol, where they will lay their son to rest. It will be an emotional goodbye to an American soldier.