Home At Last

After six hundred fifty days, a soldier comes home:

[O]ur two buses were joined by escorts from the State Patrol, and a couple of dozen motorcycles from the Patriot Riders and the American Legion. As we crossed every county line in Minnesota, we picked up a new escort from the local sheriff. Just outside of Owatonna, our procession turned into a parade with hundreds of motorcycles leading us, and thousands of people lining our route. Our luxury coach bus included tinted windows, so I'm not sure if the folks we passed saw us waving back, or how many of us had to turn away as we were overcome with emotion.

When we finally arrived at the Owatonna Armory, we had to wait a few minutes as the crowd of hundreds made way for our buses. Despite our extended absence, we are still soldiers and we still had to do what soldiers do-stand in formation. After a wonderfully brief blessing from the chaplain, and the equally short remarks by our commander, we heard the word we were waiting for-

DISMISSED!

In the chaos of the huge crowd it took me a few minutes to find my family. I had to call my wife on her cell phone before we could find each other. Most of the next few minutes are a blur in my mind even now, but hugging my kids and kissing my wife are memories that will stay with me until I am old and gray. The sacrifices and hardships of the last two years seemed at once a small price when an older gentleman in a VFW uniform, WWII or Korea Vet by his age, shook my hand with a tear in his eye and thanked me for keeping his family safe.

Via Fuzzy.