Sound of freedom

We just spent a couple nights at a fairly busy air base in central Iraq, on our way out. The planes were flying all night long. The jets roaring are unbelievably loud, at first. And we would smile and joke in the morning about the noise saying, "That's the sound of freedom." That is the line that you invariably hear near any domestic military air base with jets that cause the local people consternation. There is a certain degree of truth to it. But as we were preparing to leave that air base, to come here to Kuwait, I heard another sound, and I knew instantly that it was the sound of freedom. We walked out to the flight line, some time after midnight, past a C-130 Hercules about 150 feet away with all four engines turning. It was pretty loud, but not nearly as loud as the jets. As I walked by, I was struck with the emotional thought that there was sitting my ticket to freedom. I saw the insignia of the United States Air Force on the side, and I could see the pilots on the flight deck, and it was an incredibly moving sight. I sensed that finally, the end of this adventure was near. I hesitated to put my ear plugs in as the turboprop engines droned on. It was music to my ears.