Back at the lodge, the hours crawled on. It was long past dark when a cell phone call finally came inÂ—Chad's elk was down and they were on their way back. All around there were smiles and a huge sense of relief, but that paled in comparison to what happened when Chad came back. The front door opened and Chad wheeled in, his face beaming with pride. In a second the entire group was on its feet, giving him a standing ovation. No longer were people awkward. Guys swarmed him, pounding him on the back, raising their cocktail glasses. It was Chad's elk all the way, but everyone in that room felt a great sense of pride for him. It was hunting pride, the kind we feel when we see a youngster take his first deer. I think it's also a pride we share as Americans. Here was a man who had overcome great hardship, who had sacrificed so much for his country. And, in the end, all he wanted to do was take his elk like one of the boys. Believe me, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.