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The way we were

I just received this story from an old comrade – it’s amazing to me sometimes how much sense this made six years ago, and how different the world has become in the interim. Still, a compelling read:

“I was the lead for our first strikes against Tora Bora, but before the mission we had a ceremony on the flight deck where some folks brought out a flag from the WTC rubble. It was a fairly large, ripped, and torn American Flag. As we were going through our ceremony they subsequently raised the flag aloft on our mast. Once the flag had been hoisted a light breeze blew by and you could, for the first time, just see how tattered that flag was. I remember a profound sense of pride that after all that flag had been through she had a chance to fly above an American warship preparing to extract revenge on those who put her in that condition.

We were to brief for our mission at 2100 (9:00pm) launch at midnight and hit our target at 3:00am. After the briefing I walked up to the bridge and met with the ship’s Captain. I told him that I wanted the flag; I wanted to take it with me on our mission to Tora Bora. At first he was incredulous, thinking that he was responsible for what was a national treasure. I told him that I wasn

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