He was joined by his friend, Sgt. Douglas Cereghin, who also is blind. Cereghin wore sunglasses and a cap that read, "Life is good."

A couple of dogs — Shepherd and Zihn — lay at the soldiers' feet.

The Fayetteville Observer reported that on April 5, Durrante and Cereghin were among seven military veterans who graduated from the Guide Dogs of the Desert program in Palm Springs, Calif.

They spent much of the 28-day program living with their dogs and developing a trusting bond.

Through the use of guide dogs, blind students at the training center are provided loving companionship and opportunities for life-changing independence.

Durrante and Cereghin look at the training as a positive experience, one that has provided a sense of newfound confidence. With their seeing-eye dogs leading the way, the soldiers are better able to venture out into the darkness.

The Guide Dogs of the Desert program has been around since 1972. But its veterans component is new, with training customized for each veteran, said Linda Samulski, student services and outreach coordinator for the program.

"We want to give back to them for their service to our country," she said.

Durrante is the dog handler for Shepherd — or Shep — a male, black and tan Labrador retriever. Zihn — a mixed male golden retriever-Labrador — has Cereghin's back.

After a year has passed, the soldiers will be able to apply to adopt the dogs.

"I've never really kissed a dog before," Durrante said. "But let me tell you, I kiss Shep all the time. Everybody can be mad at me; the dog is never mad at me."

Cereghin lives on post at the Airborne Inn, but he and Zihn are no strangers to the Durrante household.

"The only time I really feel normal is when I'm around Dexter," Cereghin said. "We sit around and talk like normal dudes."

Cereghin, 43, is a combat medic and combat engineer with the 37th Engineer Battalion. In November 2007, he suffered brain trauma from the blast of an improvised explosive device outside Baghdad. He was the track commander, posted inside an armored personnel carrier while on a mission of humanitarian aid.

"It knocked us for a loop," he said.

Over the next six months, he lost all his sight from complications caused by swelling of the brain and the brain stem.

Durrante, a 39-year-old combat engineer assigned to the 27th Engineer Battalion, Bravo Company, was blinded in an instant on Aug. 17, 2007.

It was nearing the end of the day for demolition training on Fort Bragg, and C-4 ordnance was blowing up all over the place. As range safety officer, Durrante was monitoring the performance of the explosions. While he burned C-4, an unexploded blasting cap in the residue is believed to have blown up from the heat.

Shrapnel ripped open Durrante's neck and part of his face. The shock wave severed his optic nerves.

"I look at my life now. I was given a second chance," said Durrante, a native of Trinidad who retains the sing-song dialect of the West Indies region. "I am here for a reason. That was my born-again day."

If these veterans are bitter, they did not let it show. They say they have moved on — perhaps the most challenging part of their life-altering injuries.

"When I first lost my vision, I tried to be the same as before," Durrante said. "But I am different. I definitely look at myself as a different person."

Originally from Salmon, Idaho, Cereghin intends to return home a civilian in five weeks after nearly a decade in the service. He owns 40 acres north of that small community in the mountains of central Idaho.

Cereghin speaks with passion about becoming an advocate for the blind and disabled. "Just because you can't see," he said, "doesn't mean you can't do something."

Durrante is closing in on a military career spanning two decades. "I'll go ahead and get my 20," he said, "and call it quits."

He intends to become an instructor or counselor, parlaying his experience into training for blind and visually impaired veterans.

Durrante gives some of the credit to his guide dog, Shep.

"You have to trust this dog. But you're free," he said. "Even though I can't see, it's not the end of the world. It's another life. It's going to be better."

Cereghin added: "That's one of the last things you want to lose — your sight.

"We lost our sight. We haven't lost our vision."