The mills of the gods, they grind slowly

The first thing I ate when I arrived in Afghanistan some 14 months ago was a Twinkie. It was only fitting that I had two Twinkies saved up for when I would eventually leave. I ate both of them yesterday on a crowded C-130 flight leaving Afghanistan.

Nothing screams irony, after growing up in the Cold War and learning how to kill T-72 tanks on the battlefield, than flying out of the combat zone through a former Soviet air base.

Now begins the inexorable wait to return home.