Lance Cpl. Jason Freeman took his last breath on a herders path in the subzero mountainous region between the "Stans" on Christmas day, while the President scheduled another sunny day of golf in the Hawaiian Islands.
Jason's wife and two young children unknowingly celebrated the opening of Christmas presents back in North Carolina, all the while praying for his safe return.
The President lined up his ball for his first of two rounds on the lush green fairways of the north coast course.
Mrs. Freeman enjoyed the half-spirited enthusiasm of her children playing with the toys she had carefully picked out and lugged back from about ten toy stores earlier in the week. Jason had only one month and he would've been back home with his family. His patrol offered cover-fire as his buddies retrieved his body leaving a trail of our nation's treasure forever staining the ancient pathway. It seemed that over the centuries there were others who had sacrificed their blood and had left their families forever to this now darkening soil.
It was true that many of the coalition deaths were due to the President's refusal to ramp up the requested number of troops in the field. The new order to suspend drone flights also added to the misery for our troops on the ground.
The President knew he had fucked up by going to Hawaii. His political instinct and advisors told him not to go, but Michelle was relentless and downright threatening to get out of the White House, which she now called "The Prison."
He had a bad feeling about all of this. Deep down he knew this Hawaiian vacation was gonna blow up in his face.
Back in D.C. Dave was still reeling over seeing the ghost of George Preston as the 995th day of the Obama Administration waited for the next shoe to drop.
