We were due to fly a mission into Iraq the next day. We had already had racked up 30+ flying hours, mostly during 24 hour work days, flying back and forth from Spain to the giant sandbox. But on that particular night sometime in late 2003 our minimum crew rest in Rota, Spain was extended. It gave us a chance to breathe and relax a little.

I remember the whole crew got together that night. We didn't do anything exciting but sit outside listening to other C-5 crews land and take off. I sat with my squadron chief and two fellow Loadmasters on one side of the table, our flight commander and a new lieutenant sat on the other side. We enjoyed the company of a jug of Southern Comfort and Captain Morgan. The rest of the crew had either passed out or otherwise snuck off to one of Rota's finer 'gentleman's club'

With nothing left to do, and the alcohol getting low, the subject of politics came up. I stayed quit as long as I could but eventually someone asked me my political views and how I felt about the war.
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