Set em up Joe

I’m in the air terminal in Bagram waiting to go home. It is what Sinatra called “the wee hours of the morning” or more accurately closing time for a bar. You don’t hear the clink of the glasses or the ice cubes swirling for the last the drink of the night. You don’t have a bar or anyone saying, “set up them Joe. I got a little story I would like you to know.“ You hear people snoring or the cumbersome movement of soldiers with body armor as they are called for a flight assignments. But they all have stories and I wonder how many have happy ending.

We are headed to Ali Al Salem in Kuwait. The group ahead of us was called for a flight to Kandahar. There the weather is already 10 degrees warmer with winds bringing dust storms. A marine in the hospital said he was going back down to Kandahar for some more “hooking and jabbing.” His unit was hit with IED (improvised explosive device) he was lucky walking away with a little glass in the eye.

It is good bye to Afghanistan. I have no idea of what that means yet. I haven’t disconnected. Home is still like a dream and not real. Afghanistan is very real.