Short story.
iTunes suggest listening: "Happy Jack" The Who!
This has been an article a year in the making. When I first stepped off the blawkhawk a little over a year ago I couldn't tell you much about this place. It was 5 km's of a walled in freeway with two circular mile tracks inside, one for the living area and one with the truck stop.
But that's what Scania is, a truck stop. A place where truckers come and go, eat and sleep and then get back on the road.
I saw a coffee cup one day that said, "happiness is Scania in your review mirror."
I never thought it'd be true...
When I got there i was happy! I was happy to have a job and happy to be working.
Though I never thought I'd be this happy when I got back on the blackhawk to fly away for the last time... I never guessed it would be like being set free from purgatory.
I remember remarking to a friend that Scania was my own 40 days and 40 nights in the desert being tempted by the devil, feeling like I'd have to drag myself around and wait for the calendar to change.
I had my highs and my lows this past year. My highest was getting promoted and feeling like i could make a difference. The lowest was watching the humvee that three soldiers from 3-16FA died in. It had been towed back on camp after it had rolled over into a swamp with them inside. The poor guys had drowned in mud.
So there I was, on the HLZ where I had said goodbye to so many friends before and I was finally the SOB flying away. And as the Black Hawk flew away I sang, I waved and I finally shed a tear.
Because no one could prevent me from being happier...
