Cage Reesman sat in front of more than 10 tons of Army equipment Wednesday and had one question for Staff Sgt. Anthony Lechanski:

“Do you know my mom?” the 9-year-old asked.

It’s a common question, said organizers at Take a Break Camp in Angola, a five-day retreat for the sons and daughters of local residents serving in the military.

Although dwindling troop levels in Iraq mean most campers’ parents are waiting at home these days, there are still kids like Cage, whose mom dropped him off Sunday at the overnight summer camp, the same day she was deployed to Iraq.

These children want a connection to their overseas parent, said Sue Knowles, who helped start the camp.

“They can go through an entire deployment cycle and not meet another military kid,” said Knowles, whose husband now works as a counselor after he completed a tour in Afghanistan last year. “They can talk about things here you can’t really talk about with your parents.”

Now in its second year, the camp aims to be a crutch of sorts for kids asking why their parent has to fight in “somebody else’s country,” as one camper put it. The result, on display Wednesday as two Army representatives showed off a Humvee and transport truck, is a mixture of social work and lakefront distractions.

The two vehicles became an impromptu jungle gym as girls climbed up truck ladders and boys repeatedly asked, “Where do you put the machine gun?” At the same time, kids could often be heard saying, “This is where my dad sits” or “My mom taught me how to turn this on.”

Which is the point, said Leah Sallach, program director at Pioneer Camp, the retreat’s host.

“We try not to do serious things,” she said, referring to the campouts, beach parties and s’more-making that are staples of any Western New York summer camp. Rather, the goal is to make kids comfortable with their parents’ military careers — when campers sleep outside, it’s in military tents, she said.

The subtlety isn’t lost. While younger children often said they like the camp because “it’s fun” or “there are kids here,” teenagers — the camp runs up to age 14 — often said the 65 other kids in the program are some of the few people who understand them.

“When you’re a military kid, you learn not to trust people because they might not understand you,” said Danae Knowles, Sue’s daughter, before explaining a camp activity where kids keep one another from falling backward off a table. “You have to learn to trust them.”

Danae, 13, attended the camp last year while her father, Alex, served as an Army chaplain overseas. She said seeing a Humvee up close made her feel connected with her dad “because it’s something he might have used.”

“It’s like the deer-in-the-headlights look,” said Joel Terragnolie, another Army Reserve chaplain who has worked as a counselor for the last two years after a tour in Iraq. “A lot of them are showing anger and resentment.”

Unlike active-duty families, who live in the constant support network of an army base, children of those in the military reserve are often the only ones in their school or block with a parent at war, Sue Knowles said. Even after family members return home, kids are often still adjusting or families are already worried about “next time,” she said.

Due to cutbacks, organizers said they did not receive funding this year from the National Military Family Association, which made the program free in 2008; registration cost $50 this year, and organizers said scholarships were available. Still, there are plans for next summer, Terragnolie said.

His son, John, said he’s just glad there’s a place for kids like him to go.

“We’re at war, I guess,” said the 15- year-old, now a counselor after attending last year’s camp. “It’s kind of hard for families to go through.”