Thirteen-year-old Stephanie Fowlie held a sign welcome-home sign yesterday at Logan International Airport for Master Sergeant Oinkers.

That nickname for her father — Master Sergeant Kenneth Fowlie — apparently stuck after she mailed him a miniature pig she had made in school while he was deployed in Iraq with the Massachusetts Air National Guard 102d Security Forces Squadron.

At Logan, Stephanie joined hundreds of other people, many of whom cried tears of joy and waved American flags, welcoming their loved ones home after the six-month deployment.

“I get to spend time with him,’’ she said with a smile before the squadron entered the terminal shortly before noon. “I get to go out to eat with him.’’

She also got to give him a hug when he arrived.

Other family members were also on hand to give Fowlie, 43, of Wareham, a warm welcome. His wife, Lynn, 42, said she was overjoyed that her husband returned safely as their son, Kenneth, 14, sat nearby.

“It was a long six months,’’ said Lynn, adding that she took comfort in their conversations via Skype. “Every day he talked to me.’’

As for her husband, he appeared elated — and a bit overwhelmed — yesterday. He said the beginning of the deployment in Baghdad remains fresh in his mind.

“It’s kind of surreal,’’ he said. “I’m just trying to get acclimated. . . . It seems like just yesterday that we did it.’’

His squadron, based at Otis, provided security for Sather Air Base, according to Colonel Anthony Schiavi, commander of the 102d Intelligence Wing. He said the 102d has been deployed overseas several times in recent years.

“They’ve been stressed since 9/11,’’ he said. “But they continue to keep the bar high.’’

Senior Master Sergeant Brian Eastman, 41, of Sandwich, shared a long embrace with his wife, Glenda.

“We go out there with a job to do, and we’re glad to do it,’’ said Eastman, who has now completed his third overseas deployment in the past four years. “You stay focused on the mission . . . but this is the day we’re all after.’’

Eastman said this last deployment was harder on his family than the previous two, in part because his children, Savannah, 13, and Nick, 8, have grown older.

“They’re involved during the whole thing’’ now, he said.

Glenda Eastman said she is thrilled that her husband has returned safely to “put our family whole.’’

“Our chair just hasn’t been sitting quite the same with one of its legs missing,’’ she said.

Glenda said she had a party planned for last night with her neighbors, who provided invaluable support in her husband’s absence, “whether it’s snow blowing, rides to hockey. I would like to celebrate them, as well as Brian’s coming home.’’

Forty-two members of the squadron were on the most recent deployment, Schiavi said. A formal welcoming ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow at the base.

KUNDUZ, Afghanistan — Forget the drones, laser-guided bombs and eye-popping satellite imagery. For the average soldier, the most significant change to modern warfare might just boil down to instant chatting.

Articles in this series are chronicling the yearlong deployment of the First Battalion, 87th Infantry Regiment, based in Kunduz Province, Afghanistan. The series follows the battalion’s part in the surge in northern Afghanistan and the impact of war on individual soldiers and their families back home.

A gunner inside an armored vehicle types furiously on a BlackBerry, so engrossed in text-messaging his girlfriend in the United States that he has forgotten to watch for enemy movement.

A medic watches her computer screen with something approaching rapture as her 2-year-old son in Florida scrambles in and out of view before planting wet kisses on the camera lens, 7,500 miles away.

A squad leader who has just finished directing gunfire against insurgents finds a quiet place inside his combat outpost, whips out his iPhone and dashes off an instant message to his wife back home. “All is well,” he tells her, adding, “It’s been busy.”

The communication gap that once kept troops from staying looped into the joyful, depressing, prosaic or sordid details of home life has all but disappeared. With advances in cellular technology, wider Internet access and the infectious use of social networking sites like Facebook, troops in combat zones can now communicate with home nearly around the clock.

They can partake in births and birthdays in real time. They can check sports scores, take online college courses and even manage businesses and stock portfolios.

But there is a drawback: they can no longer tune out problems like faulty dishwashers and unpaid electric bills, wayward children and failing relationships, as they once could.

The Pentagon, which for years resisted allowing unfettered Internet access on military computers because of cyber-security concerns, has now embraced the revolution, saying instant communication is a huge morale boost for troops and their families. But military officials quietly acknowledge a downside to the connectivity.

Some commanders worry that troops are playing with iPhones and BlackBerrys (as well as Game Boys and MP3 players) when they should be working, though such devices are strictly forbidden on foot patrols.

More common are concerns that the problems of home are seeping inexorably into frontline life, creating distractions for people who should be focusing on staying safe.

“It’s powerful for good, but it can also be powerful for bad when you’re hearing near real time about problems at home,” said Col. Chris Philbrick, director of the Army’s suicide prevention task force. “It forces you to literally keep your head in two games at one time when your head should be in just one game, in Iraq or Afghanistan.”

It took the military several years to come to terms with both the cyber-security and safety issues. Initially, the Pentagon banned access to social networking sites. But when officials realized that they were falling behind the times and angering young Web-savvy troops, they conducted a study and determined there was more to be gained by allowing access. Classified-network computers still have no access to social networking sites.

To see the upside of a well-connected force, one need look no further than the Morale, Welfare and Recreation building, fondly known as the M.W.R., at Forward Operating Base Kunduz, home to the First Battalion, 87th Infantry for the past year. [Continued]