I woke up to the shake of my bunk being kicked. This was typically reserved for a mission coming down and being summoned to the TOC. As my feet touched the plywood floor, the Iridium phone hit my lap.
"You're gonna be a dad today."
Satch smiled, turned around, and the divider curtain fell--leaving me alone to take in the gravity of the situation:
She's supposed to be born in three weeks.
I won't be home for another two weeks.
Does this mean I'm going to miss the birth of our first child?
Shit. I'm never going to hear the end of this one.
Over the next 18 hours, I burnt up tax payer dollars with an Iridium satellite phone, hooked to a 5590 battery, on the hood of a gun truck. Fellow Rangers would swing by to see how it was going. Occasionally, the phone would be drowned out by a jet in final approach to Bagram. And then it happened. Halfway around the world, I heard her sweet cry.
Today is a day of sadness and loss for many including myself. But had it not happened, she wouldn't be in my life.
Does anybody else feel conflicted about how September 11th took and gave? Would you know your fellow warriors as well? Would you have met that woman? Would you have saved all those people? Would have grown this much as a person?
If you have anything to be thankful for today, please comment and let us know.