Miller, a USMC Private First Class, was fast asleep when the Japanese struck. He was part of a group of Marines guarding a Naval ammunition dump at the West Loch of Pearl Harbor on the 7th of December 1941. He had come off shift on the front gate the night before and crashed out in a small two-man tent behind the guard post. He was nineteen years old.
Now being Scottish AND Canadian but not yet American, I don’t as yet get to vote here. I already have two political systems I follow closely. And although I follow U.S. politics, much as the rest of the world does, I am still a bit of a voyeur on the whole thing for now. So I live here, I pay taxes, but I don't as yet feel governmentally slighted or politically frustrated – yet.
Well getting out of Afghanistan turned out to be a wee bit harder than I expected. Standing at the immigration counter at Kabul Airport - just before I hit the lounge - I was already daydreaming about my two hours of actual dreaming on the flight to Dubai. I was quite taken by surprise when the nice man behind the thick glass handed me back my passport and said ‘no.’ “No what,” I remember thinking, I hadn’t asked anything.
I spent a couple of days foot patrolling with the Apache Troop (3rd Platoon), 1st Squadron, 75th Cavalry Regiment, from the 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault). Their mission is ‘area reconnaissance to confirm or deny enemy activity.’ They are scouts who leave the base every day to go out to where they think the bad guys might be in order to find out if they are there for sure.