A Place for Both the Pen and the Sword

They miss Maryland, their house in Arnold, the Kennedy Center. They miss blue crabs. Barbato misses his wife and his brothers in the Washington area.

Yet at least two have volunteered for another six-month stint. "This is where we belong," Holladay said of her and Barbato's request to stay. "This is where we want to be."

Dominguez had to leave the base recently because of an illness but hopes to return to Bagram soon.

The professors received Defense Department readiness training, a week of lessons on military life and survival, before they deployed. They learned first aid, search and rescue, how to handle weapons and ways to spot explosive devices.

Now they are in a country devastated by years of fighting, where soldiers hunt terrorists and human rights groups have in past years accused U.S. troops of abusing prisoners. In two 2002 cases ruled homicides by the U.S. military, detainees died after blunt-force injuries.

And the professors teach about literature, investing, biology.

Afghanistan is beautiful and ugly, they said, with stark mountains and the devastation of years of war. On base, it is always loud, with bulldozers, generators, heavy trucks and helicopters thundering.

They sleep in unfinished plywood huts, share the showers, brush their teeth alongside students and don't flip the lights on after dark without asking bunkmates.

Outside is where the danger is. Dominguez, who had not gone off the base at the time, worried about if they had to leave it to help soldiers elsewhere in the country. "The roadside bombs are what everyone is most afraid of," he said.

On base, they feel secure. Barbato wakes every morning to the rumble of military police officers gathering outside his door.

Holladay said, "You can't imagine the envelope of caretaking around the civilian population."

Yet the reminders come -- sometimes in flashes, such as the warning flare lighted from a military helicopter or the perimeter security lights being triggered. Or in bursts, such as a speeding armored convoy sending dust flying as the vehicles pass small villages. Or in slow motion, watching children begging for candy in a minefield.