After fixing the radar for a few hours, this is pretty much how I felt
It’s 1103 in Kandahar.
We’ve only been here for a day, but it seems like we’ve traveled for months. As I left the states last weekend, I’ve always wondered what being in a foreign country would be like, not that I haven’t done it before, just not with a weapon on my side.
Arriving at Manas AFB was a shock, never did I know how good some people had it overseas. Being there was like being at home, minus the good kind of sand in between my toes.
It seems like I slept for hours, and yet I wasn’t sleeping at all. Dreams were few, and whatever I did catch revolved around possibilities of what could happen when we finally touched down.
And here I am, at one destination before our last. Foreign nationals, a pond of shit-no literally, where they dump all the shit is a pond in the middle of the base, although the Eiffel Tower in the middle is a nice touch :)-and rocket attacks. I’m not sure what I heard last night, but someone was catching hell. Don’t drag your feet, the dust will swallow you whole, as you disappear, a window opens up to your soul.