Selling the Mustang

Their uniforms seem to fit a little snug around the belly and they lack military bearing, but you got to love ‘em… they’re our replacements, our ticket home. Today, I back briefed my counterpart: Print NCOIC. As I told her all the things we’d accomplished, her jaw dropped. Not because of my devilish good looks or my baby blue eyes, but because we’ve done so much over the past year. We’ve covered every combat operation, every school opening and everything in between. We’ve taken 30,000 photos and written 600 stories. We produced 40 weekly newsletters and 4 full-color magazines. We’ve told the Soldier’s story and we’ve done it better than anybody. I am so proud of everything we accomplished, and now I’m handing over my “baby” to a bunch of newbies.

We didn’t replace anybody; we came to an area of operation that had no public affairs support. We built the public affairs monster in this fine city of Mosul. It’s like I just spent five years rebuilding a 1965 Cherry Red Mustang and I’m selling it as soon as the paint dries to a zit-faced rich kid. Don’t get me wrong, I want to get the heck out of here, but I’ve put my blood, sweat and tears into this mission and it’s just hard to let go. But I guess I have to, because the plane leaves soon.