The Rearview Mirror

Friends, I'm out of Afghanistan. They started flying us out about a week ago, did the usual long layover in Kyrgyzstan, and we touched down on US soil about two days ago. We've still got members of our unit back at Bagram waiting for their flight out, so please keep them in your thoughts for a few more days until they're safely out.

For any readers out there who've been following my story just long enough to see me home safely, we are basically at the end of our trip. Yes, I'm currently stuck on an Army base back East, getting my teeth checked, my records reviewed, and being reminded not to yell at civilians. But I'll be home and ready for regular life in a few days. Mission accomplished. Thanks for coming along.

Now, if you care to bear with me, I think I've got a few stories left to tell. I promise that this wont become a daily log of relationship musings and professional gripes -- I'm sure you don't need me explaining regular life to you. Sure, it's anti-climactic, but there are still a few stories left to tell that are only making sense to me in retrospect, a few lessons I can only understand from a distance, and some pictures that only become clear in the rearview mirror. Stick around a little longer and I'll share those too.

Either way, I'm home. Much love for helping me back.

Snapshots

My PRT included both a Vietnam veteran and a former Vietnam refugee in our leadership ranks. They fought like an old married couple. Imagine Billy Bob Thorton and Jackie Chan arguing about military operations.

I said goodbye to the world's oldest Afghan yesterday. He's cranky and demanding and thinks out loud. He gave me a hug and wished blessings on me and my family. He made me miss my late grandmother.

Got chewed out by an officer with temper issues this morning. I walked away while he was still yelling - I'm too old for this crap.

Smoked a deliciously fat cigar this evening under a perfect summer sky with my replacement. We talked leadership, the military-industrial complex, and maintaining your personal dignity in the face of rampant profiteering. He's a good man, and I wish him much safety and success.

Developed an unsurprising addiction to food porn these days, staying up late at night flipping through a stack of Bon Appetit magazines I found abandoned in the goodie pile. After evenings of long workouts and sensible dinners, I salivate as I flip through money shot close-ups of juicy, rare meat and chocolate creations dripping dark, gorgeous sauce. I threw away my stack of Army issue Maxims, but I mailed the Bon Appetits home.

Had an argument with the Governor about the appropriate way to manage and oversee US-funded projects, and won.

Excited as I am to come home, can't shake the feeling of bittersweetness as this chapter winds down. (Not over yet)

Earning my Keep

Summertime in Kapisa