no clear lines

Josh and I met back in 1991, when I showed up on the steps of A Co 2/187th. He was in the 1PLT CP talking to SSG Witherspoon, our acting PLT SGT at the time. Josh shook my hand and welcomed me to the best fighting outfit the 101st had to offer. I later realized that 1PLT owed that title to guys like him. He grew up in Oregon, somewhere remote, where the biggest threat to his family's plumbing system was a bear chewing on their water lines. He's direct without being inconsiderate. There is a recurve bow in his home that he uses with great precision in hunting deer. He'll throw a trout to the bank, as long as it was earned. In 2009, I asked him to be a groomsman in my wedding, having to drive 10+hrs each way. I hadn't seen him since 1993 we he left Fort Campbell.

Fast forward to 2011: Josh returned from AFGH - he's home for the holidays for a two week stint. The call was kept brief as he is home with his family, and I know how much that means to him. We didn't talk about the war - I didn't care to ask, and Josh is comfortable with what he does. He asked about my steelhead season, and how he remembers vividly the salmonids from the West Coast. If there was a big push of water how they would still have sea lice on them even though Josh's favorite spot was well upriver. Did Lake Michigan salmon and trout have pink flesh or was is red? And the question of lake-run steelhead vs. true anadromous fish. We agreed that once Josh finishes his last tour of duty, we'll go back to his old haunts and see what kind of fish we can get to rise.

He never says goodbye, a fact that I realized years ago. He says it's better that way. Goodbye, to Josh, is final.