Having never served in the military, camp life was way different than what I thought it might be … in a good way. It occurred to me early one morning, as I followed my nose to the nearest coffee pot, how courteous everyone was. Not only to me but also to each other, no matter if they were military, civilian contractors or local workers.
Early-morning joggers exchanged warm greetings. Food servers smiled sincerely. People of every rank and station exchanged pleasantries. It wasn’t just the greetings that caught my attention, but the manners and respect that often lacks in our society — small gestures such as holding doors open and addressing others as sir or ma’am.
I can truthfully say that I witnessed not a single act of rudeness during the entire tour.
We just thought we’d been busy up to this point, but the storm was about to be unleashed.
Our group had adjusted well to the mounting air miles and 12-hour time difference. We were anxious to shake hands and exchange hunting stories with the troops.
The first camp we visited had a fine lunch followed by a lengthy meet and greet in the dining area, or DFAC as they referred to it. They presented each of us with a certificate of appreciation from the chief of staff, gave us a tour of the compound and briefed us on the state of affairs.
These folks were the epitome of hospitality. Many hailed from Georgia, Florida, Alabama and Tennessee, so I felt right at home. I wished we could have stayed longer, but our chariot was waiting and so was another camp full of service men and women who were anxious to talk hunting.