He boils down everything from their names to their units onto tiny strips of text, which he posts on sheets of plywood along the road at the front of his property in southern Wisconsin.

"Someone's got to do this," Borowski said. "What's my sacrifice? Nothing compared to their sacrifice."

Borowski, 49, started the memorial in April 2003, shortly after the U.S. invaded Iraq. He used to update the casualty count on a piece of chimney set at the end of his driveway, but over time grew frustrated with the media's coverage of coalition deaths.

He started combing the Web sites of troops' hometown newspapers, the national media and U.S. and foreign militaries for information on any coalition member who died during active duty since Sept. 11, in Iraq, Afghanistan or elsewhere.

He condenses each entry into about a half-dozen lines and includes photos whenever possible. He tucks each sheet of paper into clear plastic holders stapled to the plywood, adding panels as the death toll grows. As of Thursday morning, the memorial listed 3,900 troops from 25 countries on 11 panels.

"I don't miss anybody," Borowski said. "I'm like a bulldog."

Borowski has never served in the military. But honoring troops' sacrifices, making sure they aren't forgotten and recording history are all part of his mission. And now, almost four years later, the memorial has grown into an extension of his job as a psychotherapist.

"I'm a neighbor. I'm someone who cares," he said.

The office of his ranch home is full of binders stuffed with newspaper articles. He sends sympathy cards to families he can locate, and his door is plastered with thank-you notes.

Kathryn Castner _ the mother of Army Spc. Stephen Castner of Cedarburg, Wisconsin, who was killed near Nasiriyah, Iraq, on July 24 _ wrote: "Since our son's death, the most disturbing thing to us is how clueless and duped the American public is about what is going on in Iraq and Afghanistan. They simply are not paying attention. You are doing something that perhaps will cause a few more people to pay attention."

It hasn't been easy. Borowski struggles to penetrate the fog of incomplete information. Kids have used his memorial for paintball practice and stolen his spotlights.

He and his fiancee, Jules Petter, have held the makeshift wall in place during storms, and he's flirted with frostbite working in temperatures well below freezing.

He spends his days off working on the memorial. He sets up a traveling version at high schools and parks, and dreams of a permanent one.

Borowski hesitates to share his feelings about the Iraq war, but he said he's frustrated with the Bush administration because he feels it had no exit strategy and he's angry with the Iraqis, who he said want to kill the same people who rescued them from Saddam Hussein.

He also said he's tired of searching for news of the war's casualties.

"I want to rest," he said. "I want these men and women to stop dying."