(Photo, My nephew's homecoming after deployment to S. Korea.)
During the Iraq War I was flying home to Chicago one night after a 100+ degree day in Baltimore. Storms in Chicago closed O'Hare, canceling my flight. I joined others in long lines at BWI seeking flights. While in line, hundreds of Sailors and Marines arrived. After more than a day of travel, they were disembarking flights from Germany originating in Baghdad. Somehow, none of them had connecting flights at BWI. I overheard grumbling from officers on down. Some officers got in line to arrange their own flights; most non-coms curled up along the walls and laid down to sleep. I got a ticket for a 6 AM flight. The airline gave me a hotel voucher for the night. I had to wait outside for the hotel's shuttle. The heat hadn't let up. Fumes from shuttle buses weren't dissipating in the humidity. I couldn't bear the heat and went inside the terminal. It was 1:00 AM. I cooled down a few minutes, then went outside. There were 6 Marines waiting for various shuttles. We talked about the heat. A shuttle from an unrelated hotel pulled up. The driver asked the guys where they were going. There were four destinations. The driver said he'd take them all. The last Marine handed over his bag to load in the rear, he pointed to me and asked the driver, what about him? Sure, the driver replied. I thanked him and gave him my bag. We all caught our breath in the air-conditioned shuttle. A few guys talked about having no cash on them. My stop was first. The driver got my bag out, I handed him $40. It's a tip from all of us, I said. Thanks, he said. No, thank you, I said.
Baltimore, MD
