From the September 2010 magazine.

Making her meeting

After a tragic accident in the Middle East, an officer finds her courage at a base camp group

It was hot, sweaty summertime and I was temporarily assigned to the Middle East. I'd been sober for six months. I tried to take care of myself by eating well, drinking plenty of water, running when the temperature was not over 100 F and even volunteering at the post library to stay out of trouble. At my last duty station, my sponsor and I had worked through the Steps as far as we could, given the circumstances. A few good men had made a few good suggestions about finding meetings: check with the senior enlisted advisor, the chief nurse and the chaplain. The chaplain said that "recovering alcoholics used to meet at the base occasionally, but none have lately, which is to be expected when troops rotate so often." Relieved, I said, "Mind if I 'meet' with myself?"

I prayed our prayers, read the readings, studied a story or two from the Big Book and went back to my room. One night, after about 20 minutes, two men joined me. One was originally from the local area, and the other was a diplomat with the whitest shirt and shiniest loafers I had ever seen. Almost out of breath, they apologized for being late. They had been delayed while going through security measures at the gate. Perhaps my guardian-angel chaplain told them about my erstwhile meeting of one. We opened with the same prayers and readings, which were comforting, and then one of the fellows began sharing about his daughter's boyfriend. I knew I was right at home.

-- DAWN G.

Kenosha, Wis.

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