Of course this would happen to me.

So before we left Camp Shelby, Mississippi for Iraq our “Leadership” decided that we could go on a 4 day pass. After 2 months of dealing with the idiocy of Camp Shelby a nice dose of normal civilian life was more than inviting. Unlike a few of my companions who opted to go to New Orleans and rack up a 12,000 dollar tab of debauchery, I decided to save money, stay out of trouble and just go home. Overall it was probably the best 4 days I could have had. I did everything I had set out to do. I got to visit VMI, I got to dress up and go out with my friends, spend some one on one time with my closest friends, and of course quality time with the family, including one last Sunday service at Church of the Holy Spirit.
Before the service started I went up to our Pastor, Quigg Lawrence, to say hey, and he was talking to another guy. Once Quigg saw me he introduced me to the man we has talking to. It turned out that he had been in the first Iraq war, Operation Desert Storm. After discussing the finer points of living in this miserable country, and fighting the heathen savages of Babylon we went our separate ways for the service.
At the end of the service, after the Holy Communion and before the benediction and passing the peace (it’s an Anglican thing) Quigg motioned me to come to the front of the sanctuary by the altar to be prayed over before I set off for vacation, erm, I mean “battle” in Iraq. He asked anyone close to me to come up and pray with us and to my surprise the man I had met before the service came up and grabbed the mike to pray over me. I was truly touched at this gesture of a fellow soldier, who merely an hour ago I never knew, imploring the almighty to protect me in combat. At the conclusion of the prayer pastor Quigg gave the benediction and we began to depart the sanctuary. On my way out my new friend gave me a business card and told me to drop him a line once I arrived in Iraq, he’d love to hear how things are going over there. I put the card in my pocket shook his hand and told him I’d see him in January.
Once I arrived at the car I told my family how nice the guy was, and how he even gave me his card so I could drop him an E-mail so he could keep in touch. I took the card out of my pocket and finally read it.

Family Choice.
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www.familychoicefunerals.com

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I Heart Irony.