Passing Time - the Army way.

Pennock sits with his back to my locker, humming snatches of anything and everything musical that flits though his mind.  To my left, Carol, Jackson, Collins and Wahlburg talk in muted tones, debating bug spray vs. dryer sheets as repellent for the upcoming FTX.  Bryon is fixing his bunk, Rodriguez, Dahl, Caputo and Rehn are sleeping in hidden corners.  Snodgras moves from group to group, recounting details of his latest prank.  Baraskis is wandering around the bay with Needham and Schmidt, talking over their cars and the planned upgrades.  No-Speed just recently decided to tell some guys about using random people's laundry soap on bags that didn't have any, and is getting his ass chewed.


Slowly, the conversation turns to the typical point:  Family Day and what food we are going to buy.  Ice cream cakes, chicken bacon ranch sandwiches, rodeo burgers, Reeces Pieces, apple pie...


Personally, I am craving a Reuben from Dot's Cafe with tater tots and a Dr Pepper.


When the room gets quiet again, you can see home in our eyes.  The women we love, the mothers, fathers and brothers or sisters we miss, the friends who held us up through every low point we've ever been through.  We think of all of you in silence.  Wondering where you are, how you are, what fills your days while we march, run, drill, call cadence, shoot, train, train, train...


We live, I live, to see you again.  Standing tall, standing proud.


It is raining now, the outer arm of this most recent hurricane, reminds me of Oregon.


Until later.


Tristan

"What to draw on a Friday night."