My Sister Called Me a Leech at Thanksgiving Until a Colonel Stood Up and Changed the Room

a great distance for twelve years while doing work that kept the world slightly safer than it would otherwise have been.

Somewhere on Fort Bragg, behind locked doors, a mission was being planned. An operator was studying a briefing that someone like me had written. The work would not stop. It never would.

But my family knew. Not the operations. Not the continue reading …