It's 6:00 a.m. I let the tears down my face, kneeling with my hands raised, thanking him for bringing me back, protecting me during this war that was not mine. It no longer leaves that place while the boat tearing the water into the Tagus, stopped in front of the pier. He stayed for a few hours, making me think about the rumors that ran at the beginning of the trip. Finally, at 3:00 p.m. he pulled over to the pier where thousands of people were waiting for us, waving white scarves many mothers tried to locate their son in the midst of thousands of military personnel, who with his weight made the big boat lean, which seemed more like to tip over. Not being able to see my family, I decided to go back to the cabin and pack up and join the door where the ladder was placed, being the first to leave. In the midst of all that crowd, I ended up seeing my mother, who ran to hug me, filling me with kisses with eyes full of tears, but this time of happiness to have her beloved son back in her arms. I cried with joy as I was surrounded by all the family and friends who went there to receive me.