Will the last soldier out of Iraq please turn out the light?

The post title (if you're old enough to remember Vietnam, which Rico certainly is, though he didn't serve there) is a reference to the 'light at the end of the tunnel', which we never quite reached back then, but learned our lesson by the time we went into Iraq, as the article by Tim Arango and Michael Schmidt in The New York Times explains:

The last convoy of American troops drove into Kuwait on Sunday morning, punctuating the end of the nearly nine-year war in Iraq. As an indication of the country the United States is leaving behind, for security reasons the last soldiers made no time for goodbyes to Iraqis with whom they had become acquainted. To keep details of the final trip secret from insurgents or Iraqi security officers aligned with militias, interpreters for the last unit to leave the base called local tribal sheiks and government leaders on Saturday morning and conveyed that business would go on as usual, not letting on that all the Americans would soon be gone.
The crossing brought a close to a final troop withdrawal drawn out over weeks of ceremonies in Baghdad and around Iraq, including a formal if muted flag-folding ceremony on Thursday, as well as visits by Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr. and Defense Secretary Leon E. Panetta, and a trip to Washington by Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki.
The last troop movement out of Iraq, which included about a hundred vehicles and five hundred soldiers, began in darkness. Around 2:30 a.m., the convoy snaked out of Contingency Operating Base Adder, near the southern city of Nasiriya, and headed toward the border.
As dawn approached on Sunday, the last trucks began to cross the border into Kuwait at an outpost lighted by floodlights and secured by barbed wire.
“I just can’t wait to call my wife and kids and let them know I am safe,” said Sergeant First Class Rodolfo Ruiz just before his armored vehicle crossed over the border. “I am really feeling it now.” Shortly after enterng Kuwait, Sergeant Ruiz told the men in his vehicle: “Hey, guys, you made it.” Then he ordered the vehicles in his convoy not to flash their lights or honk their horns.
Many troops wondered how the Iraqis, whom they had worked closely with and trained over the past year, would react when they awakened on Sunday to find that the remaining American troops on the base had left without saying anything. “The Iraqis are going to wake up in the morning, and nobody will be there,” said a soldier who identified himself only as Specialist Joseph. He said he had emigrated to the United States from Iraq in 2009 and enlisted a year later, and refused to give his full name because he worried for his family’s safety.
The reaction among Iraqis was muted, as it had been for weeks as the Americans packed up. Live images of the last convoy arriving in Kuwait were not shown on local television, as they were around the world. Some Iraqis were unaware on Sunday that the last of the American soldiers— aside from a vestigial force at the embassy— had left.
“I just heard from you that they’ve withdrawn,” Mustafa Younis, an auto mechanic in Mosul, said to a reporter. “We’ve been waiting for this day since 2003. When they invaded us, we carried our machine guns and went out to fight them. We decided to do suicide operations against them. They committed many crimes, and we lost a lot of things because of them.”
Some celebrated even before the final departure. On Saturday evening, Ahmed Haider, a teacher in the Khadimiya district of Baghdad, took his family out to a restaurant for a meal of pizza and sandwiches to mark the occasion. “I feel so happy,” he said. “This is the real happiness for all Iraqis, and I do not know why people are not making a big deal of it.”
Of course, many Iraqis fear what comes next, and the withdrawal came against the backdrop of political crisis in Baghdad. A large group of mostly Sunni lawmakers announced a boycott of Parliament on Saturday in protest of a wave of arrests by the Shi'ite-dominated government that swept up a number of their aides and security guards.
Several guards who work for Vice President Tariq al-Hashimi, a top Sunni leader, have been arrested, and the government is said to be preparing a case against Hashimi on terrorism charges.
Fearing that insurgents would try to attack the last Americans leaving the country, the military treated all convoys like combat missions. As the armored vehicles drove through the desert, Marine, Navy, and Army helicopters and planes flew overhead, scanning the ground for insurgents and preparing to respond if the convoys were attacked.
Colonel Douglas Crissman, one of the military’s top commanders in southern Iraq, said in an interview that he planned to be in a Black Hawk helicopter over the convoy with special communication equipment. “It is a little bit weird,” he said, referring to how he had not told his counterparts in the Iraqi military when the Americans were leaving. “But the professionals among them understand.”
Over the past year, Colonel Crissman and his troops spearheaded the military’s efforts to ensure the security of Tampa, the long highway that passes through southern Iraq, which a majority of convoys passed through on the way out of the country. “Ninety-five percent of what we have done has been for everyone else,” Colonel Crissman said.
Across the highway, the military built relationships with twenty tribal sheiks, paying them to clear the highway of garbage, making it difficult for insurgents to hide roadside bombs in blown-out tires and trash. Along with keeping the highway clean, the military hoped that the sheiks would help police the highway and provide intelligence on militants.
“I can’t possibly be all places at one time,” Colonel Crissman said in an interview in May. “There are real incentives for them to keep the highway safe. Those sheiks we have the best relationships with and have kept their highways clear and safe will be the most likely ones to get renewed for the remainder of the year.”
All American troops were legally obligated to leave by the end of the month, but President Obama, in announcing in October the end of military operations here, promised that everyone would be home for the holidays.
Still, the United States will continue to play a role in Iraq. The largest American embassy in the world is located here, and in the wake of the military departure it is doubling in size to roughly sixteen thousand people, most of them contractors. Under the authority of the ambassador will be fewer than two hundred military personnel, to guard the embassy and oversee the sale of weapons to the Iraqi government.
History’s final judgment on the war, which claimed nearly 4,500 American lives and cost almost $1 trillion, may not be determined for decades.
But as the last troop convoy crossed over, it marked neither victory, nor defeat, but a kind of stalemate, one in which the optimists say violence has been reduced to a level that will allow the country to continue on its lurching path toward stability and democracy, and in which the pessimists say the American presence has been a bandage on a festering wound.
“Things will go worse in Iraq after the American withdrawal, on all levels: security, economics, and services,” said Hatem Imam, a businessman in Basra. “We are not ready for this.”

Rico says that he's unclear on how, after the President's announcement, the Iraqis wouldn't have known when we were leaving...