The Afghan Medal

Its been eight days since I’ve been to the ministry.  The roads remain black outside the Green Zone as they search for a half-dozen or so bad guys with their even nastier vehicles who are hunting for us.  It’s a Catch-22 as if we don’t get out, then security forces cant find them.  The General had his family prepare a celebratory meal for me three times now, only to have me sadly inform him that that I cannot come to the Ministry.  Ramazan is now upon us and thoughts of one last meal with the General and his staff are gone.  With no other options, the General came to see me.  I gladly escorted his vehicle through security and ushered him and staff up to the USO deck.  He clearly was tired from the fasting, but insisted on seeing me.  We sat and talked a bit while my and his staff gathered.  The general presented me with a set of prayer beads, a certificate of appreciation from the Minister, and a small rug as a token of the Ministry’s appreciation.  While we had exchanged small tokens over the year, I had nothing to give him today, other than a year of my life to the betterment of this country.  We had grown close over the year, and he knew, and greatly appreciated what I meant. He asked me to stand and presented me with the Ministry Medal of Merit that up until now had only been given to one other non-Afghan.  I also got the official certificate which allows me to wear it in public.  I was deeply honored, proceeding then to say a few words of thanks all the while not doing a good job holding back tears.  Ugh, so much for the hard-nosed American.