When you know the man on the cover of TIME...

Tuesday, October 06 2009 11:00 | By Jessica Weinstein |

Part of what I've been sharing with the readers here is the process that I'm going through after two months in Afghanistan with soldiers and many international and local troops under constant stress and strain -- finding the levity in the most mundane and insane -- and never knowing when something will strike me after a newfound closeness with a war effort half a world away.

As one of the other writers on dscriber mentions in his own reflections -- yes, we are very comfortable there. The bases are big. For some, the food is good, there's even pizza delivery at Bagram, and there are ways of forgetting you are in a war zone. I found many of the people to be far less than physically fit than I'd forced myself to be; I took salsa lessons; and I enjoyed smoothies and pedicures at some of the shops on the big bases.

But I also spent time with the guys in the command outposts -- showering with bottled water warmed by the sun, eating lots of boxed mashed potatoes, wiping debris off every inch of equipment in a tent after a commander's helicopter swirled dust into every inch of the place, and always -- trying not to get sick, either from altitude or heat.

While I was reporting in Afghanistan, I spent time with the SOLDIERS in the command outposts. IT'S A PLACE WHERE YOU shower with bottled water warmed by the sun, eat lots of boxed mashed potatoes AND WIPE debris off every inch of equipment in YOUR tent after a helicopter SWIRLS dust into every CORNER.

IN THESE SPARSE SURROUNDINGS, I traveled with a group of warriors from Wisconsin who have the most dangerous job in Afghanistan -- looking for and disarming roadside bombs. Their commander is Sgt. First Class Chet Millard, a 32-year-old PRISON GUARD with four kids and a wife back home.

Yeah, he's been to Afghanistan before -- heck yeah. He's a reservist. But between his dry wit, hard-driving ways and his GRITTY grin, he could pull his guys through a 36-hour stretch without any hot meals or bathroom while as they bear the burdens of the bombs they found -- or worse yet, the ONES they missed.

The roads where they were asked to work were so dangerous THE SOLDIERS knew as soon as THEY FADED FROM THEIR rearview mirrorS, THE IMPROVISED-EXPLOSIVE DEVICES, or IED's, WOULD QUICKLY RETURN.

They live with that.

AS I RETURNED TO the Norman Rockwell-LIKE SERENITY OF D.C., surrounded by so many familiar, caring people, I SLIPPED my TIME magazine from the mailbox. AS I TOOK A QUICK PEEK at the cover, my heart FROZE AND I DROPPED THE MAGAZINE like a hot coal.

When I pickED it up again, I TOOK the image in and looked closely at the cover at a familiar face -- Millard.

Frustratingly, there's only a date and a caption -- there's no article about him.

He's lying down, IN MEDICAL CARE, with that cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His eyes are closed. Is he alive? Is he dead?

He's so wiley and cunning. BUT roadside bombs are so unpredictable -- that's the point. And no soldier thinks he or she is going to get hit -- everyone takes precautions not to get hit. Here's the TRAGIC REALITY -- you get into a routine AND STOP PAYING CLOSE ATTENTION. Then in an instant everything changes and it doesn't matter who you are or what your rank is or how great you'd be in a firefight.

I'm happy to report that Millard lived. In fact he's already been returned to duty. [WHAT WAS THE MEDICAL ISSUE IN THE PICTURE? HOW DID THAT RESOLVE?]

I'D DROP THIS LAST SENTENCE... IT'S MORE OF A GRABBER IF YOU END WITH SGT. MILLARD.

But like so many others who've covered war, I am newly amazed and grateful to a country that celebrates its women, instead of hiding them, and to the soldiers for what they do...not always even buying into the mission - just knowing that they have a job to do, and that they better come home.

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