Today as the usual crew of the Pontiff, JoKur, Twizzy, and I walked to the DFAC, we witnessed an astounding spectacle: a series of flatbed trucks bearing the first wave of our signal vehicles. Their destination: Kuwait. We hollered and waved and saluted at first, but then we fell silent, just staring at the boxy green trucks as they rolled slowly past. I felt an electric tingling on the back of my neck, unable to tear my gaze from the beautiful sight of the flatbeds receding into the sun-washed distance; once again, I thought, there should be some music associated with this – if this were a movie, it would be the beginning of the final montage leading to the end credits.
As I write this, I have to admit that I feel a little choked up thinking about the scene; it’s a concrete manifestation of something that I haven’t been able (or have been unwilling) to understand – I’m really going to leave Iraq, and it’s going to happen sooner rather than later.
I only have one more post to write from Iraq, and it’s one I’ve been waiting to write for the last eighteen months. After that, I’ll step out of this hyperspace alternate-reality to rejoin the normal world, and start to really live again.