A Different Destination

Around the time I was finishing up the previous post, another column of US soldiers--all Marines this time--appeared in the waiting lobby.

I offered my laptop to a few of them to check and send email, but they politely declined. Spirits seemed high. I grabbed a sandwich and had a seat near another group, including an older officer--a colonel, I believe--just as a page came over the terminal intercom for 'Mike Hunt'. The colonel shook his head and laughed, and with a chuckle, I asked "that was one of your guys, wasn't it?" He just smiled and nodded.

Given the spirits, and that the last group I ran into here was homeward bound, I guess I assumed the same. Still, I leaned in and asked one of the other fellows if they were "heading over or back home".

"No. We're going to a different destination" was the reply.

Lump in the throat.

I finished my sandwich and as I got up to use the restroom, I wished them good luck and thank you. They all replied in kind, and one of them, seeing my hat, offered up a "Go Blue".

Lumps.

Best of luck, men. As they say over here... Slan Abhaile. "Safe home".