Hillah, Iraq.

Changes of command are ceremonial affairs in nature. Orders are read, awards awarded, and there are speeches aplenty. I had forgotten about the speeches. I sat in the front row in front of the two battalions, deeply happy that I was not sweltering in the sun.

The flyby had been a big hit. We were detailed a pair of F-16s for the job, and I requested a flyby north to south, then east to west. I let one of the Green Berets run the mission for practice. The F-16s approached from the north. They must have been transonic as I didn’t hear them until they were nearly overhead. Then I heard them well enough. The lead scorched by at about 500 feet, then reefed his jet into a high speed turn as his wingman flashed over the crowd. On their next pass, the jets lit their afterburners to zoom climb away.

Air power always impresses.

The ceremony settled into the routine. I quickly realized that El Salvadorans go in for long speeches, speeches made longer by the necessity to pause after each paragraph for the translation in English. A host of reporters covered the event, sure to be big news in El Salvador.

The Anglicos were very generously awarded the El Salvadoran Gold Medal of Service, the highest award authorized for foreigners. I was very thankful as we were presented our medals, along with a certificate hand signed by the President of El Salvador.

After the ceremony, the outgoing battalion was a different mass of men. They had done their time, and turned over their responsibilities, and now had only to go home. They were very, very happy, and I can’t say that I wasn’t envious of their imminent return to their homes.