It was a good afternoon in Falls Church, Virginia. A dozen or so of the Old Salts who are now strewn around the world got together to share a meal and some memories. There was a certain poignancy that touched the atmosphere above the dark long table where the staff of Ireland’s Four Court bar had set up a dozen or so of us. They were efficient and the conversation and the conversation flowed with glasses of Guinness stout.

The awful fire in Maui had us all going, since the Islands had been where we all met. There were reports of 36 dead citizens, and no attribution for cause. Sobering, which is a distinct input to a gathering with drinks. We had all been together on O’ahu at a time that featured moments of such low probability that they have staying power forty years later.

Our jobs had been dependent on estimating the locations and potential firing positions of ballistic missile submarines belonging to the Soviet Union. It was an interesting job, so much so that the people around the table had stayed in the trade for more than one career on the military, Intel Community or commercial lanes. And hopping back and forth, of course.

We were a singular age-group, the one that bridged the gap between the military of the Draft-Age and the All Volunteer Force. It is a challenge to characterize us back then as anything but optimistic and prone to slight exuberance when exposed to exotic people and places.

The middle-managers had come out of the residual force of Vietnam, so there was a distinct and perceptible difference in energy levels. This group had been movers-and-shakers in youth, and it was interesting see some of them animate and shaking. We plan on doing it again, since there is a lot of historic material that is already in the process of being cast over the fantail.

Our gang’s relevance has been minimized by retirement and generational movement, but active interest remains. One of the games at Four Courts was reciting the Corporate lineage of the companies we had joined after taking off the uniform, and the various projects for which we provided billable hours as contractors or Government civilians.

Sharing a couple hours with this crowd was an energy buzz. The recollection of how we got here was a stimulant. It is changing again all around. The wild abandon that carried us through the end of the Cold War and into the Global War on Terror may just be the baggage of youth. To get a whiff of it again at Four Courts was a trip, even if it came with the realization that the flames had been extraordinarily in their intensity.

And we are going to be around for wherever this arc of History is taking us! Put a note on the calendar. The next one should be grand! There was some controversy on how often we should make Agent organize them. “Every Forty Years!” was popular, though we suspect attendance would be a challenge. The alternatives came down to “annual” or “Seasonal.”

We will keep you posted on future scheduling. We are still eager to finish that story about the formal Dining-In that ruined a couple careers. There used to be an element of danger in having fun, you know?

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