**SHORT FINAL**

I can't say how close due to security concerns, but let me put it like this: our time here in the "Stan" is getting so short I can almost taste the German Hefe beer and brats! Knowing that our time here is coming to an end brings to bear a lot of feelings and emotions; some good, some bad, and some rather unfamiliar. We have accomplished so much during the past year. We have protected the President of Afghanistan, saw the fruit of democratic elections bloom all over the country, and flew more combat hours than we thought possible (close to 8000, compared to approximately half that many in Iraq). We've done very well, and are proud of our service.

But as I think and plan for the days ahead, my excitement is tempered by what we have also lost. April 6, 2005 is a day that none of us will ever forget. CW2 Clint Prather. CW2 David Ayala. SSG Chuck Sanders. PFC Pendleton Sykes. SPC Michael Spivey. The loss of five of our brothers left an indelible mark on our hearts that will be felt every day for the rest of our lives.

After the crash that day, I was totally overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions and feelings. Deep dark grief. Anger. Rage. Helplessness. Confusion. And God forgive me, relief. Relief that the second aircraft made it back home; relief that there were no more aircraft and crews in the air. Relief that I wasn't on the flight schedule that day. For that, I also experienced wholesale shame. Why wasn't it me up there that day? Why am I so special that I get to go home and kiss my children again?

Very quickly we realized that the best, and really only thing we could do to honor their memory was to continue with the mission. And continue we did, day by day. Some days were better than others, but none passed by easily. I lost count of how many times I would look up while walking around the base and, for a fraction of a second, would have sworn I saw Clint Prather walking ahead of me in his trademark green flight jacket. Or see what I was sure was David Ayala's easy smile. The shower became my unlikely refuge. It was the one place I could go and cry for the first time in my adult life, in total privacy. Once I stepped out of the shower, I simply looked scrubbed to a fresh pink, including my eyes. It was a little less obvious that way.

As more time passed, the tears came less and less. We threw ourselves into the mission. The today becoming so much like the tomorrow that they often blurred in distinction. Anger soon raised it's ugly head again. We had to stop dwelling on our loss in order to function, to drive on with our mission. So we stopped talking about our lost brothers for a long time. It was part of our healing process, and absolutely normal in every way. But there were times when I just wanted to scream their names at the top of my lungs. Not talking about them at times made me feel like we were forgetting them. If that was part of the healing process, then I wanted to stay broken. But finally, after the year is almost done, I have finally come to accept not only what we have lost, but what we have also gained. We lost five brothers. Brothers who came to complete the mission, who gave their lives so that freedom might ring a little farther around the world. Through their sacrifice I gained five heroes to always look up to. I gained five more reasons why I am so damned proud to serve my country. And we all gained a more secure world in which to raise our children. For these and so many other reasons, I promise, as God as my witness, I will never forget my five brothers!

CW2 Clint Prather. CW2 David Ayala. SSG Chuck Sanders. PFC Pendleton Sykes. SPC Michael Spivey. God never made better men.