The 42nd Comes Home

Members of the 42nd Infantry Division from New York have been coming home via Ft. Drum. I have seen them on the streets of post and at the different offices. The familiar 1/2 rainbow patch on their sleeve and their DCU's easily gives them away.
I saw a line of them standing waiting for a taxi in front of the PX the other evening. I had some shopping to do, and was headed the other way. When I came out of the PX, the line was even longer. I don't mind taxis, but these guys had waited long enough.
"Who wants a ride to their barracks? You'll save the taxi fare."
A group of five guys together raised their hands. We trundled to my Laredo, popped the back hatch and completely filled up the back of my truck with PX supplies.
I drove them the couple of miles to the barracks. They had been back in the country about 12 hours. The lied when I asked if they had jet lag. They said "No" but the sat staring out into the black night and had trouble answering questions.
Then I started asking about what was different. All admitted that eating off of pottery and using metal flatware and having glasses to drink from was different.
"I drank water that was not from a bottle," one said and they all laughed.
One admitted that he had freaked out earlier that day in formation.
"We were standing there in formation and I realized I did not have my helmet or my rifle with me. I freaked. Then I remembered that I was back in the States and we had turned them in. For a minute there, I forgot where I was."
I did not have the heart to tell him that "for a minute there" will last for a long time for him.