A boy and his dog...

I find it more than passing strange that the few Afghan children I have seen look like wizened little old men with ancient eyes and the US soldiers look like babies.I don't feel old. I don't act old and I don't believe I think old. It is just that everyone else seems so very, very young. I swear many of the soldiers I see don't even need to shave regularly! I am 56 years old, which is not really all that ancient given the average lifespan of American females and given that my parental units are both alive, kicking and reasonably sound of  mind and body at 78 and 80. I've become aware of my growing propensity to describe myself as an old woman and often even cast myself in a motherly or grandmotherly role. Now, I figure I probably have at least another 35 or 40 years to explore the planet, barring unforeseen circumstance -getting hit by random incoming, having my helicopter fall out of the sky or contracting a flesh eating bacteria. And, sstatistically, since I don't operate a motor vehicle regularly, since I don't live in a densely populated, crime ridden, urban area, and since I do live and work on a heavily fortified military encampment with soldiers actively defending it, I am probably safer here than I would be most anywhere else. I certainly feel safe here. If I didn't I wouldn't stay. I do worry about the fuzzy faced baby soldiers though. I love them and respect them and would do anything for them, but I can't say I understand them.  For soldiers, Afghanistan is a scary and dangerous place. They work long, hard hours in scorching heat and freezing cold. They run and pump iron in the gym then hooah themselves up mentally to fight their fear of what might be out there waiting for them on the road or in the dark when they go out on patrol. But some days, they play in the sun throwing Frisbee for their dogs.