Fair Winds and Following Seas to a Brother in Arms

Last weekend, I took my friend Huan Nguyen to the BIAP (Baghdad International Air Port) military terminal and put him on the plane. I was glad but bittersweet. You see, I was sent here early to relieve him. Normally, as part of the military you get used to arrivals and departures - your own happens roughly every three years, and within a command there is always someone coming and going. Usually as well, people are far more sad to see your replacement leave, and you personally can't wait for them to get the hell out, because the longer they stay, the harder it is for you to take the reins. This was different though.
Technically, you could say I only knew Huan for about three months. I arrived on April Fools day, and he left in the middle of June, and except for a few emails upon me receiving orders, we were strangers. But I feel that I have known him for most of my life. You get that when you run into those people whom you can call "old souls". You see, Huan is the embodiment of someone called to duty in service of his country.
As you can guess, Huan wasn't born in the US. He was born in Vietnam, back in a time when that didn't have the nicest of connotations. While we share the same rank, he continues to serve in the reserves at 45 years old. As an early teenager he was beaten, tortured and part of his family were murdered. He escaped the hell he was living in and emigrated to the US, to live with his extended family. As many immigrant stories go, he learned english from sesame street, and studied hard, eventually going to college, earning a degree or two and becoming a productive member of society. But that wasn't enough.
While most of us look to college and jobs as stepping stones, Huan looked at them as gifts that needed to be repaid. He joined the Naval Reserves in some small effort to pay back his debt for America allowing him to become a citizen. Then the war came. August would have made two years that he had been away from his family. August of 2004, Huan was sent to Japan for six months to help push papers for an organization that had a need since one of it's own had been called to the front. Following that hitch, he volunteered to come to Iraq.

Huan more or less singlehandedly built an organization from the ground up, that one day people will say turned the tide of this conflict. Not only was he recognized by his command, but by practically every other Army organization in the theater that had worked with him. People would call here - not asking for someone familiar with CREW systems, but asking for Huan.
Keep in mind, that while most of us over here count days till our return, Huan actually almost fought to stay here and help wherever he could. Not that he didn't miss his family. Nor was he an opportunist looking to build a career out of military contacts - he holds patents with his "real" job at General Motors - they even supplemented his income with what he was "losing" by going on active duty. He just felt that at this time in his life, he could save people in the battlefield, help defend his country, and pay back the nation that had offered him hope and prosperity.
There are many many times a day when I wish I was home and out of this place. But it is at those times that I remind myself of the wonderful opportunities that I have to support my family, live in a land where I don't have to worry about roving gangs of armed militia, and where I have the freedoms to pursue life, liberty and happiness, and remind myself that this is just but a small sacrifice I make to pay back the debt my country has given me.
Huan, have a seat, hell - have a real beer! Put down your pack and rest my friend - consider your debt paid - your shipmates have the watch.