Deployed

Someone very close to me was deployed this week - off to war-torn Afghanistan to do his part. I've wondered this Remembrance day week a fair bit about this, and asked myself if I might have done the same.

In that position, it doesn't matter whether you agree with the mission objective - the reason foreign troops are on Afgan soil. In that position it doesn't matter whether you want to go, or whether you will like living in a tent for six months. If you have strong feelings either way about the Taliban, and their style and history of local government - it doesn't matter.

Because you're told to go - you're deployed and it's part of the lifestyle that you've chosen for yourself. Therein lies your level of control, the ability to affect the situations that effect you. Often this is a decision taken long ago, a life choice made before that life opened up it's mysteries, challenges and beauty to you.

When faced with this direction, you can become stoic, understanding the greater duty involved in serving, and resigning yourself to some minor hardships along the way. Or you can happily welcome the chance to do your part - help those you serve with and those you don't and make a difference, knowing that you can make a real difference and assist those people that will need it most in their darkest times.

My friend went to Afghanistan with a little of both of these attitudes , but mostly the latter. He's wise enough to keep his head when things get tough, and positive enough to inspire those around him.

I didn't question his decision to go, even once as I knew he needed to be there to satisfy his desire to do the right thing. That seems ironic and poignant during this week, but next week and the week after and the one after that, I'll still be thinking of him, and I'll always be proud of him. I'm honored to call him my friend and yet embarrassed to have not told him so in as many words.

Keep your head down buddy, and come back safe.