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.