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Memoir: Coronavirus convoy, day one, part two
Villages and sobas As we drove, I could see a few villages from the road, partially obscured by the foliage. The villages were comprised of no more than a few dozen small homes, even simpler than many I had seen in Menongue. They were made of mud or sticks and covered with grass. Durable materials…
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Memoir: Conversations at the HALO Trust bungalow
When we got back to the bungalow from the Ops room, Christy was on the phone, trying to work things out for our departure. Louie went to continue packing, and I wandered around the grounds. The planters in front of the bungalow were tail fins from bombs, their deadly warheads replaced with an explosion of…
Welcome to Angola 