I looked at each soldier in the eyes, embraced them, and wished them God's blessings in their return to home and family. One soldier told me that she would really miss me.
I knew that I was looking at a good number off those faces for the last time as folks go their separate ways. We may not have served on the front lines together, but we served in a remote location, apart from our families, together. Together, we trained for two months in Texas, and together, we worked in offices and visited training sites together. I cared for them in their dark nights of the soul and I prayed for their spouses and little ones. I will miss them. Even in the twilight of this fleeting life, I will not forget them.
The reality that we are in a war zone was impressed upon us the last two nights, as twice we had to take cover--once for "incoming" (last night) and once for an "active shooter" (tonight). We heard several dozen rounds fired off in the latter incident. Not sure if anyone was hurt. These are rare incidents in this area of the country, but they are good reminders to always keep vigilant.
Tomorrow, I return to my nearby post by air transport (as the roads are closed due to the loya jirga--the gathering of elders to decide our future involvement here). As my time was delayed here with my departing soldiers, I look forward to returning to the remainder of my unit.
Thanksgiving is near and Christmas is fast approaching. A few weeks later, in God's wise providence, I will return home with the second wave of my soldiers, leaving the last portion for April.
All of this produces a complex array of emotions. I was a bit sad to not be leaving on the plane tonight. My soldiers were so excited to get home to their spouses and children. I shared in their excitement, but must defer the fulfillment of that excitement for myself. At the same time, I will be sad to leave in a couple of months and leave the remnant of my unit. A part of me feels like I should be the last person to step foot on a plane from my unit.
I met for a bit with the second-in-command chaplain in Afghanistan today. Within a year of departing this country, he will retire. After not deploying during the first twenty years of his career, he has deployed three times in the last ten. His family has flourished amidst it all. All seven of his children (some now adults) are disappointed that he will be leaving. The frequent moves and more recent deployments, while hard at times, served only to draw the family closer together. This chaplain, having served his country with distinction over three decades, having cared for his family along the way, having poured himself out for the sake of the Gospel, will now enjoy his own twilight. May these sunset years be filled with joy for this father in the faith!
