Afghanistan Notebook

Some signs that it may be time to retire

As they're edging closer to that last plane ride home, some of the seasoned veterans of the 218th Brigade Combat Team are contemplating the day when they'll hang up their uniform. They have served their country and state honorably, but -- as they say -- even a good thing has to end.

Lt. Col. Mike "Nuke" O'Neill, a Summerville resident and Camp Phoenix's poet laureate, offered his thoughts about how a soldier knows it's time to retire. We'd like to share his thoughts:

1. Your 20-year letter is starting to yellow.

2. You have a new nickname for your friends –- “Sir”.

3. Everything that happens reminds you of a story.

4. You realize that the young lady is smiling at you so sweetly because you remind her of her father.

5. Your kids are older than many of your soldiers.

6. They accidentally seat you in the retired section at a function and you were so busy talking to your friends that you really didn’t notice.

7. People think you are in deep, profound thought when what you are really doing is trying to remember where you put your keys.

8. You keep referring to the “middle weekend” and the “Old Guard”.

9. During PT, the instructor tells everyone to work harder “except for you, sir”.

10. You are no longer surprised when soldiers tell you that they were not born yet when you joined the Guard.  Consider yourself really ready to retire when these soldiers are captains and sergeants first class.

218th's poet laureate

In a previous post, I mentioned that Lt. Col. Mike "Nuke" O'Neill is one of the drier wits. O'Neill, commander of the information operations cell of Task Force Phoenix, manages to find humor in just about anything.
For example, back in July we were in Herat visiting nearby Camp Stone. To me, Herat lived up to its reputation as being cleaner, greener and more hospitable than Kabul. Additionally, the sky over Herat was crystal clear compared to the haze over Kabul.
When it came time to leave O'Neill and I were comparing notes and agreed that Herat was literally fresh air to our lungs.
O'Neill then quipped: "I thought I was going into oxygen shock. I was going to ask someone to burn a tire for me."

Besides being a wit, O'Neill likes to write poetry. The other day he passed along an offering. I believe Nuke has summed up the sentiments of many. It's posted below.


A letter home (from Afghanistan)

As the sun sets behind the mountains
And a cool breeze blows through Afghanistan
I sit in my Conex apartment
And dream of the day I'll hold your hand

For more than thirty years there's been trouble
In this place they call Afghanistan
But as you look in the eyes of the children
You know there is hope for this land

I awake to the sound of manmade thunder
Blackhawks roaring through the night
I go back to sleep and dream of you
Until the dawn's early light

As a hush falls over the soldiers
That gather 'round Patriot Square
The roll call is met with silence
From our comrades that are no longer there

Some day they'll tell me that I'm done here
And that I an going home
I'll head back to home and family
And I never more shall roam.