Moments of euphoria as troops return

For most, it's just a relief. Many are going fishing; others are taking Bermuda cruises; some are "disappearing" from the Army's omnipresent radar for the first time in months.

"They have to come in later to clean their gear and get it prepared for whatever's next," says Army spokeswoman Carol Darby on the return of two units from the 75th Rangers to Fort Stewart, Ga. "Then they get a long weekend."

On Thursday aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln, President Bush welcomed troops home - and declared the end of combat operations in Iraq. Now and in coming weeks, the ebb of troops departing is being replaced by a surge homeward. "Soon this trickle will be a tidal wave," says National Guard Col. Alan Smith, pointing out that nearly 200,000 Guards were called up for duty in Iraq.

Friday's piecemeal arrivals - a contrast to the return en masse from the first Gulf War - have a lot to do with the military's changing nature. Gone are the large unit deployments of World war II and the year-tours of Vietnam. In New York, sporadic arrivals are complicating Mayor Michael Bloomberg's plan for an old-fashioned ticker-tape parade. But the patchy homecomings across America are indicative of a new fighting force: Smaller units, greater cohesion, humbler processions.

"It's like the first Gulf War, but with smaller, more personal ceremonies," says Matt Seelinger, a historian at the Army Historical Foundation. "There's uncertainty, because we've still got men there, and they're going to be there for a while."

For sailors on the USS Shiloh, at sea for a grueling 10 months, their looming arrival unleashed a barrage of emotions: Giddiness, sure. But also apprehension - and even guilt for abandoning family for so long. As the Shiloh headed to port, the 400 sailors said they looked forward to the little things: time with family, a meal at a favorite restaurant, just driving a car.

Homecomings, of course, evaporate into normalcy - worries far less menacing than being shot at. But while enlisted soldiers pretty much have their jobs guaranteed, fitting back into the world of work will be a challenge for some Guardsmen and reservists. In the past 15 months, 1.8 million jobs have been sliced from the US economy. It's unclear how many were held by troops in Iraq. In Richmond, Va., four servicemen won't find their jobs at Circuit City after layoffs. Several war pilots, too, won't have cockpits to come home to - thanks to a faltering airline industry.

Still, few things - not war, not work - could overshadow the scenes playing out this week, as veterans tried, albeit awkwardly at times, to adjust their military bearing to civilian relief.

In a mirror-image of the return of Vietnam POWs to Travis Air Force Base in 1973, wives and children wept and surged toward the planes as 100 airmen descended Tuesday to the tarmac.

Some couples embraced silently. Families melted into tearful group hugs. Thirteen-year-old Micheal Santa says he prayed each night that his dad, Master Sgt. Jairo Santa, would return safely. Nearly every day, Micheal watched news of American bombings over Baghdad, knowing his father was refueling those bombers in his KC-10 air refueler. "It was scary," Micheal says.

The Air Force had laid out a spread of burgers, hot dogs, and soda. But most airmen were keen to return to their kitchens. "[Jairo] is ready for a break," Gwyn Santa says. "I put a stew in the crock pot."

• Pamela Martineau contributed to this story from Travis Air Force Base, and material from the Associated Press was used.

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