purge

[Frag Magnet]

<p><div>Though received with ample gratitude, it was strange, the names and faces that showed up to pay their respects. &nbsp;In a way, almost dishonest – not so much in their sincerity at that moment… indisputable on that dusty, freezing flight line in the middle of the night, but in that they never had been there for us before (nor since) and all parties concerned are happier that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>The stars were bright beacons in the sky with the total lack of cloud cover and the only terrestrial light emanating from the rear of the C130. &nbsp;Two shivering lines formed facing each other as three of the four engines on the aircraft were powered down. &nbsp;Eventually, a group of seven in the middle carefully, precisely carried our friends one then the other into the plane; the rest of us doing our level best to render honors as sharply as possible but obviously unpracticed.</div><div><br /></div><div>When at last everything was in order, the formation was given the command to dismiss and the crowd quickly dispersed leaving only a handful behind, each of us with a bursting bomb on our left sleeve. &nbsp;We stood there in our way, silently with our hands in our pockets while the massive rear doors closed shut and the engines powered up. &nbsp;The exhaust somehow warmed the freezing air and assaulted us with the smell of kerosine, the prop wash threatened to blow us over. &nbsp;We stood there together, pulling tighter, tears in our eyes, occasionally stumbling to maintain our footing and waited as minutes passed. &nbsp;Eventually the C130 moved slowly away and we waited as it taxied to the run way, the mountains framing the expansive valley floor in the moonlight, we waited while the plane sat at the end of the runway. &nbsp;We watched it as it took off, it’s flashing lights joining the stars, slowly gaining altitude, and eventually circled to the North and to Bagram, taking with it two very big pieces of our hearts.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we were sure the plane was out of sight and without words hugs were exchanged and we made our way back to the trucks, to warmth, and to mourn in our little cliques or in private. &nbsp;Tradition required that yet more ceremonies be held but there, on that unbelievably cold slab of concrete, faces in the wind, is where we really said goodbye.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>/purge</div>
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[The Wind]

Nice.

[Author]

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