OK, since everyone else is doing it...
Everyone else I know who has a blog is posting to theirs, so I think I'll go ahead and do the same. I won't compromise OPSEC, of course.
The other night I did a little old-fashioned pest control, after already being awake nearly 24 hours. I came into the shipping container where a bunch of us sleep in order to get my vitamins. I was using my red lens headlamp to prevent awakening anyone who was already asleep. I reached for the bunk above mine and opened my assault pack and took out the container I keep them in, and right after I popped the pills, I looked down to see a furry face peeking up at me from inside my assault pack. I switched to white lens to make sure I wouldn't miss. I grabbed a full bottle of water I'd just taken in there with me and bashed at it. The rat/mouse/rodent of some sort ran out and across that top bunk and attempted to run to the next top bunk (they're cornered together). I bashed him again with the bottom of the bottle, and he fell to the floor. As he tried to scamper away, I stomped on him, calling down all kinds of curses upon all rodentkind. Miraculously, no one woke up. I then spent the next 15 minutes or so using baby wipes to clean up the corpse, blood, and guts that were on the bunkpost and floor.
It's said that for every roach, mouse, or rat seen, there are at least 3 more that remain unseen. I just hope there's no outbreak of disease here, because this is by far neither the first nor last rat/mouse I've seen.
Oh, and I have pictures of his splattered rodent-corpse at the bottom of a trash can. :)
Anyway, this patrol base isn't as bad as it could be. We have internet access and VOIP phones, and there's not a lot of the Army's famously gay-ass rules like on the FOB.
I've been on a few patrols so far, and this area doesn't appear too bad. There are some checkpoints run by a local allied militia-like organization. Well, it's more like a neighborhood watch with AKs than a militia, b/c they only operate in their tribe's area. But it's called CCP, or Concerned Citizens' Points/Patrols or something like that (I always forget what the P stands for). We checked up on some of them the other day to see how they were set up and if they needed anything. One guy had an outfit of which I want to find a duplicate; it appeared to be a fleece/velvety-looking jogging suit (top and bottom). The brand logo over his heart said "net fashions" and down his torso, across his back, and down one leg it said "INTERNET". HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA I wish I'd had my camera with me at the time. I'll try to get a duplicate to wear out and about back home just to see people's reaction to its lameness.
On a slightly less cheerful note, I can't believe I'm back in this shithole already. It feels like I was just here, and my just-under-a-year at home flew by, with most of that time spent at work and in the field. I barely got to see my wife, and I saw even less of family and friends. Hell, one of my best buds from college still hasn't even met Christie yet.
My OCS packet is so close to completion I can almost taste it. I just need to get a printout of the final versions of a couple of forms, get them signed, and send it in. The problem is getting to the same place with the officers whose signatures I need while they're still there, and have a printer available. Ugh.
The other night I did a little old-fashioned pest control, after already being awake nearly 24 hours. I came into the shipping container where a bunch of us sleep in order to get my vitamins. I was using my red lens headlamp to prevent awakening anyone who was already asleep. I reached for the bunk above mine and opened my assault pack and took out the container I keep them in, and right after I popped the pills, I looked down to see a furry face peeking up at me from inside my assault pack. I switched to white lens to make sure I wouldn't miss. I grabbed a full bottle of water I'd just taken in there with me and bashed at it. The rat/mouse/rodent of some sort ran out and across that top bunk and attempted to run to the next top bunk (they're cornered together). I bashed him again with the bottom of the bottle, and he fell to the floor. As he tried to scamper away, I stomped on him, calling down all kinds of curses upon all rodentkind. Miraculously, no one woke up. I then spent the next 15 minutes or so using baby wipes to clean up the corpse, blood, and guts that were on the bunkpost and floor.
It's said that for every roach, mouse, or rat seen, there are at least 3 more that remain unseen. I just hope there's no outbreak of disease here, because this is by far neither the first nor last rat/mouse I've seen.
Oh, and I have pictures of his splattered rodent-corpse at the bottom of a trash can. :)
Anyway, this patrol base isn't as bad as it could be. We have internet access and VOIP phones, and there's not a lot of the Army's famously gay-ass rules like on the FOB.
I've been on a few patrols so far, and this area doesn't appear too bad. There are some checkpoints run by a local allied militia-like organization. Well, it's more like a neighborhood watch with AKs than a militia, b/c they only operate in their tribe's area. But it's called CCP, or Concerned Citizens' Points/Patrols or something like that (I always forget what the P stands for). We checked up on some of them the other day to see how they were set up and if they needed anything. One guy had an outfit of which I want to find a duplicate; it appeared to be a fleece/velvety-looking jogging suit (top and bottom). The brand logo over his heart said "net fashions" and down his torso, across his back, and down one leg it said "INTERNET". HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA I wish I'd had my camera with me at the time. I'll try to get a duplicate to wear out and about back home just to see people's reaction to its lameness.
On a slightly less cheerful note, I can't believe I'm back in this shithole already. It feels like I was just here, and my just-under-a-year at home flew by, with most of that time spent at work and in the field. I barely got to see my wife, and I saw even less of family and friends. Hell, one of my best buds from college still hasn't even met Christie yet.
My OCS packet is so close to completion I can almost taste it. I just need to get a printout of the final versions of a couple of forms, get them signed, and send it in. The problem is getting to the same place with the officers whose signatures I need while they're still there, and have a printer available. Ugh.