Mileposts

Terminal 1 at Dubai is a spectacular place. Fifty foot ceilings and fake palm trees. Food court and hotel. Acres of seating. Shopping and more shopping. One hundred more minutes, and I’ll be done with it and another step closer to home.


At Warrior, the FOB from a couple of days ago, I figured I was as far from home as I was going to get, as it would take another helo ride to get back to Sharana, then a fixed wing to Bagram Friday, then four more flights to get home over forty hours starting Sunday morning. All told, we’ll have had nineteen separate flights over the past three weeks or so. Now I’m down to my last three.

Once I’m on this next one, though, most of the potential trouble will be behind me, as, fourteen and a half hours after departure, I’ll be at Dulles, and I can walk home from there. Finding another way home from the Middle East is a bit harder. Not as hard as finding another flight from Bagram to Dubai, though, which is ultimately easier than finding another way from FOB Warrior to Sharana. There’s really no way to walk that route – no *safe* way to walk that route.

Each leg brings me closer, and while each leg gets progressively easier, the desire to accelerate my travel increases, and the waiting is getting more difficult. Another hour or so, and we’ll process through security once more, wait a bit, then board. If I’m fortunate, the food will arrive early, and sleep soon thereafter. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep for the entire flight, but any time unconscious on a transatlantic hop is time well spent.

For now, there’s reflection on another successful assignment, and wonder as to what will follow.