MSG George gave me a ride from the pistol range to the cafeteria – we got there just before lunch ended. My facial sunburn that was bad yesterday was now worse. MSG George then kindly gave me a ride to the barracks before he went to Building 905 for the radio class.

The MSG is an unassuming guy and it was an honor to have a brief time with him. After he told me about his 24 years in, I thanked him for his service. “You’re welcome.”

And then, right in character, he added with an easy smile, “My pleasure.”

I had the barracks to myself and took another long shower. I was thinking about skipping the radio class when SGT Helms arrived.

He would be the instructor of the radio class and had returned to get something he needed. We exchanged a few words. I promised to get to the radio class.

Before I finished dressing, my cell phone rang. I hadn’t been carrying it, nor checking messages, so it was simple luck that I received the call. It was Robin. She wanted to renew our ID cards because they expired in two months. We could go to the office on-base where they do such things and get new ones that would stretch out four years.

I got to my bike as fast as I could and took it to Building 905 where she was waiting with Top Scudder and LTC Bowers. Top drove the three of them to the ID card office and I followed on the bike.

Top wanted to get back to Building 905 and asked that we take his cell number. Robin has told me that a good NCO always has pens handy so it was a matter of pride that I was the first to produce one. I recorded his number and he left.

I wanted to return as soon as I could to photograph SGT Helms’ class, so I let them take my picture, signed it and jumped back on the bike.

Five minutes after I left, Robin and LTC Bowers were ready to return to Building 905 too, but I had Top’s cell number. And they didn’t.

So they walked the two miles.

After the radio class, we cleaned the rifles and pistols.

Then MAJ Harbaugh conducted a discussion.

And then 10 of us were called to the front of the room. Nine soldiers and me. (Robin took the next three pictures.) COL Dolieslager awarded me his Certificate of Achievement for “outstanding photographic support during Operation Warrior Ethos”. I am looking at it now, framed and hanging on my office wall.

He continued down our line honoring each of the nine soldiers.

The next day, it would be commented to me that I did not stand at attention during the ceremony. Damn right.

I have stood at attention at Patriot Guard events many times but always when standing in line with other Patriot Guard Riders. This time I was the lone guy in the black t-shirt. The nine ACU-clad honorees had (in the words of another Patriot Guard Rider) all written checks, payable up to and including their lives, cashable at will by the society they serve. I have never done that.

When I arrived, I was told that there was space for me in the barracks because I could have MAJ Dillard’s bunk. This is a photo of the MAJ and his wife taken 11 months ago at the JRISE picnic.

I was forwarded an email from him just a day ago. He has arrived in Germany and finished his in-processing. He will qualify with his M-9 there. He still has jet-lag, though.

At that same picnic there was posted a picture of a couple of navy guys, Riggs and Smitty, who were away.

Riggs has since been injured by shrapnel.

So after dinner I took a ride around the base to have some time to think about things. (Robin went to the gym where she had great fun playing 4-on-4 volleyball and I was sorry to have missed that. (Taking pictures of her and playing, both.)) As I rode past the hand-to-hand combat pit, in spite of the failing light, I noticed that it was occupied.

After a minute, they “high-tailed it outta there”.

I rode on. As I worked my way back toward the barracks, I noticed some other guys playing 4-on-4 football. I parked and went over to watch.

Most of those pictures were no good. I can pump-up the exposure in post-production, but the long shutter of twilight made the action blurry. I confirmed with another spectator that I was among the 420^th.

After a while I turned to leave. Walking back to the bike I saw a soldier sitting alone on the steps of a barracks. He was wearing full battle rattle and held his M-16 in his lap but for the moment he was just watching the eight guys playing football.

I changed direction to approach him. He sat up responsively, no doubt wondering what I wanted of him. It was a football game and I didn’t want to make it a downer, so I just shook his hand and said, “Thank you for your service.”

As we released our hands he leaned back and said, “Hey, its no problem, man.”

Then I high-tailed it the hell outta there.

Over the next year a dozen of them may get hurt. A few may die. For now its football and “no problem, man”.

Loyalty, duty, selfless service and personal courage.

Of course I didn’t stand at attention as if I were one of them. I’m not in their league.

239 photos.

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