The chai is hot, burning lips with every sip. Across the way, four men of 1st Platoon play an endless game of cards. And Ramesh and Ayyad - now dressed in matching uniforms - make and serve another round of turkish cofee as we close out our final night at Meade.
Pictures have been taken, other newly printed now adorn the cafe's walls, and our final goodbyes with the locals have been made and remade. And now we've gone from raucous celebration to quieter yet sleepless excitement. Outside around the corner, stragglers linger with the houka and the connex-roof table carries on one last conversation.
This is it. Our last night here at base. And no last day of school, no end of classes, nothing can quite match this.
We're on our way home.
All of us.
Every last single one of us.
And we thank G-d for that. We've been lucky. We've been blessed. And thank G-d for that.
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