Stopped short of leaping into his arms.

  "That's a big smile." The military man noted out loud. 

  "Haven't seen you in a while Sir." 

  "And that makes you happy?" 

  "Not that I haven't seen you, but here you are in the flesh and blood." 

  "You don't have to call me Sir." 

  "Okay." Men normally in long pants and shirts and ties dashed, strode, and just appeared in through doors of the gymnasium.  "Why not?" 

  "Still friends right?!" 

  "For life." 

  "What is the purpose of this exercise?"  A tall man in tiny shorts asked above heads. 

  "Just an icebreaker," the military man who was obviously short stood on toes and threw his voice in response. 

  "No whistles," a door moderator told a group of personal trainers moving as a group towards entering. 

     Grimaces, sighs, yelps, and grunts as the men warmed up.  Good overall health, a woman in a jogging suit commented.  Other military professionals mixed themselves into the room of stretching.  Each with a soft, strip of beans in fabric, brightly colored and long enough to forge a little perimeter around their selves. 

  Pretend we are in Outer Space, the leader of the exercise announced.  One younger man busted into a moondance.  "Pretending," another said with eyes shut.  "Looks dahchk," someone else described.  The military professionals donned hats, each with a NATO flag on the top.