At some desperate point along the way to the illusive 100th mission, each one of us stops and asks the profound question, "What am I doing here? Here I am with the finest education in the world, a half-million dollars worth of aviation skill, and a citizen in the world's most progressive society. I must be out of my mind to stake all that against the uncertainty of one more mission." Well, it's the same question asked by other fighter jocks in other wars; and it's the same answer, too. I'll tell you the reasons: Mom's apple pie, home, the Stars and Stripes, baseball, the girl back home, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus. Yes sir, we believe in America and we love the Old Red, White, and Blue, and we'll die before we disgrace either. But let's face it, fighter pilots are just human and patriotism gets a little watered down now and then, especially if it's Mother's Day, or your wedding anniversary, or if it happens to be your little boy's first day at school and you're 12,000 miles away. And I guess about the toughest thing in any combat tour is not being home for Christmas.