I have 35 Mondays left before retirement.
Sometimes I am reflective and deep. Sometimes.
I remember when a day at the office could mean: running for cover on the way from my CHU to the palace; near misses during celebratory fire after an Iraqi national soccer game; combat landings into BIAP; clearing your weapon on your way into the chow hall; gauging the echo to determine if it’s incoming or outgoing; bracing yourself during small arms and returned fire on a Blackhawk ride across the Baghdad landscape; rolling off your rack with our pillow and covering up with your vest and helmet hoping for a few more minutes of sleep before post attack accountability checks… The good old days?