The division’s chief of staff looked about the room. “I do not want to hear the term prisoner of war,” he stated loud enough so that everyone present could hear. When everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned to face him, Felden continued. “They are your fellow countrymen. Remember that and conduct yourself accordingly.” Satisfied that his message had been understood, Felden looked back at the map. “I need an update.”

With a glance the G-3 cued a captain. Stepping forward, the young staff officer pulled out a pointer that was conveniently hanging next to the map and began the task of informing Felden of the location, status, and current activities of the division’s major subordinate commands. When the update was finished, Felden nodded. “Well, at least we were able to secure Mountain Home Air Base before the order to halt took effect.”

The G-3 grunted. “A troop, 1-9 Cav rolled through the front gate with five minutes to spare.”

“No resistance?” Felden asked.

“None. After they broke contact, whatever was left of the Idaho Guard turned tail and headed west,” the G-3 responded without any sign of joy in his voice. “Colonel Parkman has already been by here. She’s been asking when she will be free to move some of her aviation maintenance and support units up there.”

Felden nodded. “Check with 1st Brigade. As soon as they have closed on Mountain Home and secured the area give Parkman permission to start moving in there. But,” he added, “remind her that the division support command is going to be moving in there as well. I don’t want another turf battle between her aviators and Tim Bates’s loggie toads.”

The G-3 nodded. Then, he gave Felden a funny look. “Do you want me to inform the CG of these decisions or …”

Felden shrugged. “No, that’s okay. I will.”

Felden found Scott sitting on the hood of his Humvee. The commanding general was alone, staring off into the distance. Balancing the two cups of coffee he held, Felden made his way to the Humvee, reflecting how the gray, menacing sky suited the division’s prevailing mood.

“I thought you could use some company,” Felden stated as he came up to his commanding general and offered one of the coffees to him.

Taking the cup, Scott nodded, then went back to gazing west. “You know,” he stated wistfully as Felden set his cup down and began to climb up onto the hood of the Humvee, “it was easier in the Gulf when we didn’t know what was going on in Washington.”

Settled, Felden grunted in agreement. “Easier for us. But I don’t imagine the commanders of VII Corps or 3rd Army were thrilled when they received their order to halt just as we were about to crush the Republican Guard.”