When you raise your right hand and take the oath on the plain at West Point — noting that that’s pretty quickly dispelled and you get into the normal routine — Groundhog Day sets in pretty quickly. It does in any profession. Perhaps for those — the delegates at an Academy event — I used to note on occasion that even in the loftiest of positions — I mean, you could be the commander of the surge, a commander of Central Com, the Director of the CIA — there is a Groundhog Day syndrome that does set in. It doesn’t matter how high you are, you start to get into this, “Man, today is going to be just like yesterday, and tomorrow looks like it’s going to be as well.” Maybe different Congressional visitors, different press, different activities. In truth, it’s not, but you get into that. Particularly, frankly, in military and combat, because you’re going seven days a week. There’s very little time of your own at all. You read a couple of pages of a book each night before you fall asleep with the light still on.  So it’s important, I think. I used to say that when this happens to you — the people with whom I was privileged to serve at the time or whatever — occasionally, you want to go on up to 30,000 feet and do a little out-of-body experience and look down at what you’re doing, and look down at the endeavor in which you’re playing a part, and realize how special that is. What a privilege that is to be serving a cause larger than self, a mission that really is important, not just to our country but to all of the coalition countries. And then get on back down and go to work.