David called Saturday, which was my birthday, and we had a long, lovely chat. He is ready to leave, but must wait until he is scheduled for a flight out of Kuwait. His liftoff date still looks like the first week in October, but it's possible that he could get three hours notice to get on a plane and be out of there. He said he might not even have time to call to let us know.
He sent me a gorgeous fall bouquet as a "stand-in" present until he gets home. The colors are red-and-gold leaves and roses, sunset-colored larkspur and a pink plant that vaguely looks like a Venus flytrap but isn't. Sadly, I don't have a digital camera here in La-La Land, or I'd post a photo.
So his Iraq adventure is nearly over, save for the flight home.
I am glad he came through it unscathed if not untouched. I want to hear the stories he's willing to tell me. I suspect he won't tell us everything, either to protect us or to protect his image to us.
By arriving in June, he missed much of the searing fighting his unit faced in May, and cost them 10 young men. I hope his men accepted him, given his status as the latecomer, it seems that they did.
We watched the new Ken Burns film about World War II last night. It is unusally frank about the torture and killing on all sides -- German, Japanese and American -- as well as bravery with stories from veterans. I think David would like to see it.
No war makes saints of any man or woman, I think.
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