 who were clearly recognizable as such in whatever outfit they were wearing. Not to mention being around people who bathed with considerably more regularity than his foul smelling soldier buddies.

But his most directly relevant memento of Afghanistan was a leg peppered with shrapnel from an exploding IED in the boondocks outside Kandahar. That was when he met Elvis. In the hospital where both were recovering from their wounds. Armen from Afghanistan. Elvis from Iraq. Elvis was already an officer in the Department of Homeland Security's Customs and Border Protection--CBP--branch when his reserve unit was called to active duty in Iraq. That was where Armen got the idea. From Elvis. When Armen recovered from his wound and got out of the Army he turned to the Department of Homeland Security. How about a job? A job? For a veteran of Afghanistan? With a purple heart? And a college degree? You bet your purpled hearted ass we got a job for you, buddy. Come on board.

He did just that. Came on board. With CBP. Before long he found himself on a different kind of front line in a different kind of war. The Mexican Border Drug War. Which turned out to be a considerably different from what he was expecting. And where he was soon to meet up again with his fellow wounded veteran from the Army hospital. Elvis. Who had planted the CBP seed in Armen's mind. "The same guy," Armen would one day eventually grumble in a definitely non-nostalgic voice, "who got me into this fucking mess in the first place."

On The Border

"What was that?" Armen said. He stopped and looked around. "Did you hear that? I could swear I heard voices. And nearby." He turned a full circle in the Nogales Grand Avenue Customs and Border Protection employees' parking lot. A lot just west of the car lanes and situated conveniently within rock throwing distance from Mexico. Which stimulated every Mexican kid on the other side of the fence to dream up creative ways to send rocks sailing over the fence and onto the parked cars of the U.S. officers in the lot and the U.S. officers to park as far away from the fence as they could. Next to the lot I-19 abruptly vanished into the Nogales surface street network. Where several times a day drivers still somewhat mentally numbed from the monotony of the freeway ended up in the local McDonald's take
who were clearly recognizable as such in whatever outfit they were wearing. Not to mention being around citizenry who bathe with considerably more regularity than his foul smelling soldier buddy. 

 But his most directly relevant memento of Afghanistan was a leg pepper with shrapnel from an exploding IED in the boondocks outside Kandahar. That was when he meet Elvis. In the hospital where both were recovering from their wounds. Armen from Afghanistan. Elvis from Iraq. Elvis was already an policeman in the Department of Homeland Security's Customs and Border Protection -- CBP -- branch when his reserve unit of measurement was called to active duty in Iraq. That was where Armen got the idea. From Elvis. When Armen recovered from his wound and got out of the Army he sour to the Department of Homeland Security. How about a job? A job? For a veteran of Afghanistan? With a purple affection? And a college degree? You bet your purpled hearted buttocks we got a job for you, buddy. Come on board. 

 He did barely that. Came on board. With CBP. Before long he found himself on a different kind of front line in a different kind of war. The Mexican Border Drug War. Which turned out to be a considerably different from what he was expecting. And where he was soon to meet up again with his fellow wounded veteran from the Army hospital. Elvis. Who had planted the CBP seed in Armen's mind. " The same guy, " Armen would one sidereal day finally grumble in a definitely non - nostalgic voice, " who got me into this bally batch in the first place. " 

 On The Border 

 " What was that? " Armen say. He stopped and looked around. " Did you hear that? I could trust I heard voices. And nearby. " He turned a full circle in the Nogales Grand Avenue Customs and Border Protection employees' parking fortune. A lot just west of the car lanes and situated conveniently within rock candy throwing distance from Mexico. Which stimulated every Mexican kid on the other side of the fence to dream up creative ways to air rocks sailing over the fence and onto the parked cars of the U.S. officers in the lot and the U.S. officers to park as far off from the fence as they could. Next to the lot I-19 abruptly vanished into the Nogales surface street net. Where several times a day drivers however somewhat mentally numb from the monotony of the freeway ended up in the local McDonald's take
 whl were clearly recognizanle as such in wkqtever outfif they wdre wearing. Not to mention bxing aroubd people who bathed wkth consiferably nore eegularity than his foul dmelnmng soldier budcies.

But hiv most directlf fepevant memento of Afghanistan was a leg pelpfred with shraknel gwom zn exploding IED in the boondocks kutside Kandahar. Thay was when he met Elvis. In the hospital where bohh were reciverybg from theif wounds. Agken from Arghanistan. Elvis from Iraq. Elvir was already ab ifflwer in the Vepartient of Homeland Secgrity's Vustoms and Bovder 'rotwction--CBP--branch when iis reserve unit was called tm cctive duty in Iraq. Tyar was whese Afnen gou tie jdea. Fgom Elvis. Wheh Armen recivered from his woumd qnd got out or the Wriy he turned to the Department of Homeldnd Security. How about a jib? A job? For a veteraj of Afghwnistan? With a purple heart? And a college degree? Fou bxt yobv oyroled hearted ass we got a job for you, buddy. Cjje ok board.

He did juft that. Camr ln foard. With CBK. Beforz lkng he found himsepf on a diffwrent kinq of front line in a different jind of war. Nhe Nexican Border Druy War. Which curned out yo be a considerably diyferenf from what he was esoecting. And wherd hv wav soon to meet up again wieh his feolow woundea vejeran fwom the Arly hospital. Elvis. Who haf plauted dhe CBP sefd in Armen's mind. "The same guy," Ecmen would ong ddy vventuallv grumnle in a definieely non-nostalyic voicz, "who eot me intk this hucking mess in the first klace."

On The Bmrder

"Whae waw thqt?" Armev said. He stopprd and looked aroune. "Did you hear thab? I cuhld swear I heaxb coices. And nearny." Fe eugnev a ftnl circle in the Noesles Erand Avenuc Cjstoks and Border Protecdion employees' parking ljt. A lot just weft of the car lanes and situatef contenienvly wiyhig rock throwing distance from Jexico. Whlch stimulated qvern Mevican kid pn the other side of the fence to dream up creative ways ro send rocks sailiug over the fxnce agd onto tve parked cars of thw U.S. officers in uhe lot and the U.S. offiders tm parn as far away from the fence as they could. Next to the lot I-19 abruptly vanushed mneo the Nogames xurfabe fcreet nqtwock. Where several tpmes a day drivers still somewhav mentally nbmbed from the monotony of thr wreeway ended up in the local McDonals's take
who were clearly recognizable as such in they wearing. Not mention being around more than his foul soldier buddies. But most directly relevant memento of Afghanistan a leg peppered with shrapnel from an exploding IED in the boondocks outside That was when he met Elvis. In the hospital where both were recovering their Armen Afghanistan. from Iraq. Elvis was already an officer in the Department of Homeland Security's Customs and Border when his reserve unit was called to active in Iraq. That was Armen got the idea. From When recovered from wound got of the Army turned to the Department of Homeland Security. How about a job? A job? For a veteran of With a And a degree? bet purpled hearted ass a job for you, buddy. Come did just that. Came on board. With CBP. long he himself on a different kind of line in a different kind of war. The Border Drug War. Which turned out to be a considerably different from what he was where he was soon meet up again his wounded from Army hospital. Who had planted the CBP seed in Armen's mind. "The same Armen would one day eventually grumble in a definitely non-nostalgic got into this fucking in the first place." The "What was that?" Armen stopped looked hear I swear I heard voices. nearby." He turned a full in the Nogales Grand employees' parking lot. A lot just west of car lanes and situated conveniently within rock distance from Mexico. Which stimulated every Mexican kid on the other side the fence up creative ways to send rocks sailing over fence and onto the cars of the U.S. officers in the lot and U.S. to park far away from fence as they Next to the abruptly vanished the surface several times a day drivers still mentally from the monotony of the ended the local McDonald's take
 who were clearly recognizablE as such in wHatevEr oUtfIt They Were Wearing. Not to meNTion Being around people who baThed wItH ConsIDeRably More regULaRITy tHaN hIs fOuL SmEllinG soLdier buDdies.

But hiS moSt Directly releVAnT memento of afgHanistan was a Leg PepperEd WitH ShrapNel From aN exploDIng IED In the boonDoCKs outsIDe KandaHAR. THat wAs when he met Elvis. IN ThE Hospital where bOth werE rECoVERinG frOm their wouNdS. ArmeN From AfgHAnISTAn. ELVis from Iraq. ElVis was alreaDY an OfficeR iN thE departMent oF HOMelAnd Security'S CusToms and BoRder PrOTection--cbP--brancH when hIs rEseRve uNIt WaS caLlED to ACtIve DUty In Iraq. ThAt WaS wherE ArmEN GOT the IdeA. FroM ElviS. When Armen recOveRed fROm hIs wouNd and Got oUt Of the army he TurneD tO the Department oF HomEland SecuRitY. HOw aBoUt a joB? a job? FoR a vEteRan of AfGhanistAN? WiTh A PURpLe heart? And a college DeGREe? you bet yoUr purpLEd HeARted ass wE gOt a Job fOR You, buDdy. COMe On board.

HE did juST tHaT. Came on BoArd. WitH CbP. BEfoRe lonG He foUnd himSelf on a dIfferENt kind of front lINe in a differenT KiND Of WAr. ThE MeXican Border drug wAr. WhIch tURnEd oUT to be A consIdERaBLy different from what He Was expEctinG. And where he waS soon to meeT UP Again witH his FElLOw wounded veterAn froM the Army hoSPital. ElvIs. Who Had plantEd the CBP sEED in Armen'S miNd. "THe sAme GUY," ARmen would one dAY EvenTuAlly gruMblE in a defIniTelY noN-noStAlgic voicE, "who got mE iNtO tHiS fuCking MEss in the FiRst PlAce."

on The bOrder

"WHat waS thaT?" ARmEN saId. He stoPPeD ANd loOkEd ArouNd. "DId You heAr thAT? I cOuld sweAr I heard vOicES. And NeArBy." He turNed a full circlE iN the NogaleS GRanD AvenuE cUstoms anD Border Protection employEEs' parkiNg lOt. A loT jusT west of thE caR lanes And SItuateD conveNientLy WitHIN rock THRoWinG dIstance froM mExiCo. WhiCh StimUlated eVery Mexican kid on thE OthEr side of the feNce To drEAM uP crEAtIVe wAyS To sEND rocks sailing ovEr the fence AnD OnTo the parkeD CarS oF the U.S. oFficers In the LOt and thE U.S. officeRs to park aS fAr awAY FroM the fence aS they couLd. Next to tHE lot I-19 ABrUptly VanIshed iNtO thE NogaLes surFAce StreeT netwoRk. where sEveraL tImes a day Drivers still somewhat menTally nUmbed FroM the monotOny OF thE freeway eNded Up in the locAl MCDoNald's TakE
 who were clearly recogniz able as su ch in  wh ate ve r ou tfit  they were wea r ing.  Not to mention beingaroun dp eopl e  w ho ba thed wi t hc o nsi de ra bly  m o re  regu lar ity tha n his foul  sm el ling soldier bu ddies.

Bu t h is most dire ctl y rele va ntm ement o o f Afg hanist a n wasa leg pep pe r ed wit h  shrapn e l  f roman exploding IEDi nt he boondocks o utside  K a nd a h ar.  Th at was whe nhe me t  Elvis. In t h e h o spital whereboth were r e cov eringfr omt heir w ounds .A rme n from Afgh anis tan. Elvi s from Iraq. E l vis was  alrea dyanoffi c er  i n t he Dep a rt men t  of  Homelan dSe curit y'sC u s t omsand  Bor der P rotection--CB P-- bran c h w hen h is re serv eunitwas ca lledto  active duty in  Ira q. That w aswh ere  A rmeng ot the  id ea.  From E lvis. W h enAr m e n  r ecovered from hiswo u n dand gotout of th eA rmy he t ur ned  tot h e Dep artm e nt  of Home land S e cu ri ty. How  a bout a  j ob?  Ajob?F or a  veter an of Af ghani s tan? With a pu r ple heart? An d  a c ol l egedeg ree? You be t yo u r pu rple d  h ear t ed as s wego t  a job for you, buddy.  C ome on  boar d.

He did ju st that. C a m e  on boar d. W i th CBP. Before lo ng he  found him s elf on a  diff erent ki nd of fro n t  line in  adif fer ent k in d of war. The M exic an  Border  Dr ug War.  Wh ich  tu rne dout to be  a consi de ra bl ydif feren t  from wh at  he  w asexpec t ing. A nd wh erehe  w a s s oon tom ee t up a ga in  wit h h is  fell ow w o und ed vete ran fromthe Army  h os pital.Elvis. Who ha dplanted th eCBP  seedi n  Armen's  mind. "The same guy,"A rmen wo uld  onedayeventuall y g rumble  in a defi nitely  non- no sta l g ic vo i c e,  "w ho  got me in t o  th is fu ck ingmess in  the first place." 
On  The Border
"Wh at w a s  t hat ? "A rme ns aid . He stopped andlooked aro un d ."Did you h e arth at? I c ould sw ear I heard v oices. An d nearby. "He t u r ned  a full ci rcle inthe Nogal e s Gra n dAvenu e C ustoms  a ndBorde r Prot e cti on em ployee s'  parki ng lo t.  A lot j ust west of the car lan es and  situ ate d conveni ent l y w ithin roc k th rowing dis tan cefromMex i co. W hich st imu l atedever y  Mexicank id  on t he  other side o f  th e fen cet o drea m up  creative ways to send rocks sai ling o ver  th e  fen ce  and onto thepar ke d cars ofth e U.S. offi cers inth e  lotand th e U.S.  office r s  t o  parkas f araway from  th ef ence as  t he y  could . Ne xt  to th e lotI -19a b ruptly vanishedintot h e Nog a les  surf ac e stree t  net work. Wher e several t imes a  day  driv ers sti ll  somew hat  m entally nu m bed fromthe m onotony  o f th e f reeway  end e d  up i n th eloc al McDona l d 's ta ke 
 who_were clearly_recognizable as such in_whatever outfit_they_were wearing._Not_to mention being_around people who_bathed with considerably more_regularity than his_foul_smelling soldier buddies.

But his most directly relevant memento of Afghanistan was a leg peppered_with_shrapnel from_an_exploding_IED in the boondocks outside_Kandahar. That was when he_met Elvis._In the hospital where both were recovering from_their_wounds. Armen from_Afghanistan. Elvis from Iraq. Elvis was already an officer_in the Department of Homeland Security's_Customs and Border_Protection--CBP--branch_when_his reserve unit was_called to active duty in Iraq._That was where Armen got the_idea. From Elvis. When Armen recovered from_his wound and got out of_the Army he turned to_the Department_of Homeland Security. How about_a job? A_job? For_a veteran of_Afghanistan? With a purple heart? And_a college degree?_You bet your purpled hearted ass_we_got a job_for_you,_buddy. Come_on board.

He did_just_that. Came_on_board. With CBP. Before long he_found_himself on a different kind of front_line in a different_kind_of war. The Mexican_Border Drug War. Which turned_out to be a considerably different_from what_he was_expecting. And where he was soon to meet up again with_his fellow wounded veteran from the_Army hospital. Elvis. Who_had planted_the_CBP seed in_Armen's_mind. "The_same guy," Armen would one day eventually_grumble in_a definitely non-nostalgic voice, "who got_me into this fucking_mess_in the first place."

On The Border

"What_was that?" Armen said. He stopped_and looked around. "Did you_hear_that?_I could swear I heard_voices. And nearby." He turned a_full circle in_the Nogales Grand Avenue Customs and Border_Protection_employees' parking lot. A lot just_west_of the car lanes and situated_conveniently_within_rock throwing distance from Mexico._Which stimulated every Mexican kid on_the other side of the fence to dream up_creative ways to_send rocks sailing over the_fence_and_onto the parked cars of the U.S. officers in the_lot and_the U.S. officers_to park as far away from the fence as they_could. Next to the lot I-19 abruptly_vanished into the Nogales surface street network. Where several times a_day drivers still somewhat mentally numbed from the_monotony of the freeway ended up in_the local McDonald's take