by Arthur Turfa
Pre-mobilization mayhem on a cold, gray
New Jersey January morning. Senior NCO
wearing a stunned face stammers about
not working in his MOS for two decades.
I recall him snarling in formation a
few months ago about the equation that
being in uniform means WHEN NOT IF
being deployed. Better Soldiers were
sandbox-bound; we were slated for backfill
in Germany. I offer to intercede being a
chaplain. He shakes his head, then enters
the building. When the plane leaves one
colder night from McGuire, he remains
behind with the rear detachment.