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He shook his head. “Not anymore. I married my high school sweetheart straight out of school, joined the Air Force and thought we would live happily ever after.” He shook his head. “We were dumb kids with no clue how hard it would be away from the only home we’d ever known. I was happy doing what I loved. She enrolled in a local community college. We moved four times in the first two years. She had to drop her classes mid-semester. She eventually signed up for online classes. Money was tight, so she took a part-time job at the base exchange.
“After I completed pararescue training, I was assigned to a team, which meant another move. I went ahead to my new duty assignment, was immediately deployed, and she was left to manage the move on her own. She had to quit her job and arrange the packing and moving of our possessions to our new location.
“Meanwhile, I was on the other side of the world, charging into danger. I was shot at, had grenades launched in my direction, and nearly died in an IED explosion. I didn’t have access to call often. We’d go weeks between communication with our families back home.
“This went on for several years. I’d be home for a couple of months, we’d have to get used to being a couple all over again, and then I’d be deployed.
“When I returned from deployment, I could tell my wife wasn’t happy. She’d bounced around from one low-paying job to another, and she’d given up on college. The family we’d always wanted didn’t happen, and she was terribly homesick for family back in South Dakota.”
“Did she not know what she was getting into?” Breely asked. “I’ve read enough stories about military families and the hardships they face when their loved ones are gone for long periods of time.”
Moe nodded. “I warned her about being gone, but the reality was harder than she’d expected.”
“I guess no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve lived it,” Breely said.
He nodded. “That was our case. We were young when we married. My training and the missions we performed changed me.”
“And you weren’t home often enough for her to get to know you all over again.”
“Something like that. When I came home from my last deployment, she was gone, along with everything in our quarters except my clothes. She’d arranged to have our household goods moved back to South Dakota.”
“Ouch,” Breely said.
“She left a note saying that if I wanted our marriage to work, I had to come home to South Dakota for good. Otherwise, I could sign the divorce papers.”
Breely covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. “The ultimatum.”
Moe nodded. “I was due to reenlist that month. She knew it. I chose to get out and follow her back home.”
Breely’s brow twisted. “But you divorced anyway?”
“I remembered how we were as teenagers—so young, in love and eager for a future together. I thought we could somehow recapture some of that.” He shook his head. “I was wrong.”
“She find someone else?”
“No. She was home, surrounded by people she knew and loved, ready to pick up where we’d left off when we graduated high school.”
“But you’d changed,” Breely whispered.
He nodded. “She was happy to be in that small town, fitting back into her same old life. I tried, but I didn’t fit in. The skills I’d learned to become a PJ didn’t transfer to civilian jobs. Who needed someone who could parachute into enemy-held territory, fight his way into a hardened compound, and rescue someone who might have been tortured or injured and get them out alive?” He snorted.
Breely gave him a sad smile. “I guess there aren’t that many jobs requiring those skills.”
“Not in a town of fewer than six thousand people. My wife didn’t know what to do with me. I had nightmares where I woke up fighting. She had to sleep in another room. Finally, I pulled out the divorce papers, signed them and told her to have a good life.” He looked up into Breely’s eyes. “And I left.”
“Is that when you joined the Brotherhood Protectors?” Breely asked.
“No. I wanted back in the action but didn’t want to go back into the military. So I signed on with Stone Jacobs, another former special forces guy, who’d set up a security firm providing protection for contractors working in Afghanistan. It was lucrative. I didn’t have anywhere to spend my money, so I was able to save it all.”
“And that’s how you were able to afford your airplane. It must have paid really well.”
“It did,” he said. “But it came at a cost.”
Breely propped her chin in her hands. “What do you mean?”
“We were expendable. We were former military—not active duty. The US government was under no obligation to us or the contractors we worked to protect. We were basically mercenaries. Hired guns there to protect non-military personnel. When the US decided to leave Afghanistan, they pulled military personnel and government officials. Anyone else was left to fend for themselves.”
Breely’s eyes widened. “The Taliban took over even before our military were all out.”
