I’d normally head straight home after landing in Las Vegas so I could get showered and rinse the stink of secret military operations off me. Ten days in the Congo, much of it just waiting as we gathered intelligence before we could act, with very limited use of showers, and I was not looking or smelling my best. I had almost two weeks of beard on my face—I was distressed to see a few gray hairs mixed among the dark—and the last shower I had was two days ago. I’m wearing a pair of black BDUs that are at least clean, and I brushed my teeth at the airport bathroom....