The Last Flight

“Man, I can’t believe we’re finally going home, troops,” Darin said, speaking above the din of the engines that vibrated throughout the cavernous inside of the C-17. “Eighteen hours from Bagram to Dover,” he continued, “and soon enough we’ll be back on friendly turf.”

Johanny smiled and added, “I know, Sarge. I never imagined taking another 18-hour plane ride so soon, but it sounds nice after Kabul. And here we are, headed back to the good ole US of A!”

Nicole laughed softly. “I know, I can just see getting one of my mom’s great hugs. I can’t wait to hug her and squeeze her tight. I sure do need me some hugs.”

Hunter nodded, nostalgia and relief sparkling in his eyes. “I’m just happy we’re putting that mess behind us. It’s too bad we didn’t get more civilians out. Those poor people didn’t deserve that.”

Daegan added, “It’s ironic. We were so focused on caring for them that we set our own needs aside. But that’s the bargain we made. And now we’re here, in this giant metal bird, putting it all behind us.”

Humberto smiled. “You know, having seen the things that we have, it’s going to be hard to explain to our friends back home. I am looking forward to hanging with my people and maybe just catching up on a little sleep. No more waking up to alarms or wearing body armor.”

David added, in his signature understated humor, “I keep recalling how we thought this would be such a grand adventure on the flight over. What an adventure, piecing together a broken country.”

“I never imagined,” Jared said with a knowing smile, “that we would be going home so soon. It feels like only yesterday that we got here. This job’s not done!”

Rylee’s voice was soft but firm. “So we did our bit. I know they appreciated it. But how can the Brass just pull us out overnight? What is this country going to do without us?”

Dylan looked around the cabin. “I don’t know, but that’s above my pay grade. I understand how we ended up in this war, but two decades, man, and what do we have to show for it? Nothing!”

Kareem's response had an undertone of sadness. “I hear that! My cousin died there three years ago, and we still miss him as if it just happened yesterday.”

For a moment, the cabin was filled with pleasant silence, the low whirr of the engines underlining their conversation. Darin stirred then, as if remembering. “I still remember that goddamn bomb. What the hell was that?! I thought that gate was supposed to be safe. An additional military SNAFU, if you ask me.”

Johanny’s tone was sarcastic. “We’ll probably never know. After all, that old saying is probably true, ‘Shit rolls downhill and collects at the bottom.’”

Nicole smiled for a second, and then it slipped. “I know what you mean. It’s as though we were aware of what our mission was, and we embraced it. And then, suddenly, the mission flipped… overnight. I just don’t get that.”

Hunter glanced at Daegan. “Anyone else feel like we’re in limbo? Maybe it's just me. I am so confused. I know I am just a Corporal, but this doesn’t add up.”

Daegan’s eyes glazed over as he considered the thought. “No, I get it. I know we’re flying home right now, but I have an odd feeling that we never actually left Afghanistan.”

Humberto let out a sigh. “Maybe there’s truth to that fact. My great-uncle fought in Vietnam; he came back a different person. He’d say, ‘Not everyone whose life was lost in the Vietnam war died in Vietnam. Not everybody who came back from Vietnam ever left there.’ What if this journey is not taking us home, but somewhere completely different?”

David’s gentle voice carried a gravity he hadn’t intended. “You mean … we’re not going home? Get outta here! That’s just crazy talk.”

As Jared stared at David, there was a moment when the air seemed to freeze. “Maybe we’re just… here. But not in the way we think we are. We’re on this plane but in a place where it’s not for the living.”

Rylee’s voice dropped, colored with despair, “I used to look forward to going home, but I don’t know anymore. Perhaps we were never supposed to return home. That scares me shitless.”

Dylan’s eyes darted as he answered, “I felt safe when we got on the plane, and now I don’t even remember it. That is freakin’ me out!”

Kareem’s tone grew grave as he went on: “All this talk of homecoming is starting to feel like this is a lie we’ve been telling ourselves. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking.”

The weight of all their words hovered in the cabin for a long silence. Darin’s voice, usually so buoyant, had taken on a tone of finality. “I’ve been thinking… We’ve been joking around as if we’re on a regular military flight. But what if we never really left Kabul?”

Johanny’s eyes dimmed as he replied, “I think I get it now. We are the last fragments of who we used to be. We’re trying to hold on to life, but maybe we should just let it go.”

There was a slight tremor in Nicole’s voice. “It’s like we’re between worlds — the one we knew before and the one we’re actually going to.”

Hunter’s tone became tender as he went on: “I am starting to believe that we are here as the ghosts of the people who were once us — souls that are holding on to the last remains of us.”

“We never said goodbye to each other … because we didn’t know we were leaving like this,” Daegan whispered.

Humberto’s eyes appeared glistening in the low cabin gloom. “This was supposed to be a flight to take us home, to our families and our lives. But instead, it’s as though it’s just a leftover chore by the Brass … tidying up.”

There was sadness in David’s voice. “I used to dream of hearing the familiar sounds of being home with my family in Texas. All I hear now is the endless rumble of those damn engines.”

Jared’s voice was steady but pained. “Maybe that’s our truth. We worked under some really rough conditions to help these poor people. In the end, we couldn’t even help ourselves.”

Rylee’s weak, shaking laughter diffused the tension. “So here we are, wherever that may be. You know what, though, at least we’re all together. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Dylan’s mind began to turn inward as he imagined the glow of the runway lights ahead of the giant plane. “I suppose we were in denial of the obvious. Everybody goes home, but not always how or when they want.”

Darin’s voice, now a whisper, said, “Maybe … maybe we really are going home.”

 A thickness filled the cabin as this sunk in. The “passengers,” who had spoken enthusiastically, were gone. Their initial bouncy chit-chat had turned into a solemn, muted silence. Once full of colorful memories and youthful bravado, their voices had yielded to the final murmurs of souls on their last commute toward eternal rest.

The C-17 flew low over Dover Air Force Base on its final approach. Finally, it touched down on the runway, tires chirping, the thirteen broken bodies it was carrying delivered in flag-draped coffins.