Air Force. A big white cake from the base commissary proclaimed GOOD LUCK! in blue and red letters. A dozen plastic-wrapped red roses, also from the base commissary, lay next to the cake, ready to compensate the colonel’s wife for all the long days and bad housing she’d lived in. There was a cheap paper program on every vinyl-covered folding chair. The program contained the colonel’s biography, assignment history, and list of decorations. Notably absent from the long list was anything earned in combat, although no one but the military officers knew that. A boom box with a CD version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “The Air Force Song” rested on the floor. Junior officers who worked for the colonel hovered near the double doors waiting to escort female guests and family members to the front row of chairs. Other officers mingled in groups of twos and threes with cups of punch in their hands. The discussions were much the same. Deadlines, presentations, budgets—the stock in trade of the military staff officer.
