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What it’s like not being home for Christmas

I remember sitting on the edge of the bed the night before I left to go off to war in the first place. I wasn’t afraid to go. It was my duty and I’m a good soldier.  But I was so afraid for my little girls. A whole year away from them, and just what if I were killed or taken prisoner? Who would take care of them? Who would help their mother see that they arrived at womanhood ready? I collapsed into sobbing.

The first time I ever saw the Grand Canyon

Our four fighters, in arrowhead formation, skimmed the desert floor for another hundred miles or so until the sandy brown horizon turned to a brilliant blue in the waters behind Glen Canyon Dam. We were going to fly the Grand Canyon from Lake Powell to Boulder Dam. We would not fly over the Canyon; we would fly in it.