It was a misty, drizzly day, a little cool for the tropics, for once. There were about 10 of us on patrol near some deserted villages. We came upon a small, ruined temple with some walls still standing and a little bit of roof. We stopped there, put a few men on watch, and 6 or 7 of us leaned back against those walls “inside,” smoking cigarettes, talking, dozing, being dry. It was one of the best places I’ve ever been in.
This getting old is getting old. It really feels sometimes almost like combat – it’s dangerous and the casualty rate is certainly high. In combat and in aging, tired much of the time, sleep difficult, too much discomfort. Many of us are taking some strong drugs, too: blood thinners, heart rate regulators, and so on. And the ever-present land mines of falling and accidents. Sooner or later we’re all going to get it. But at least we aren’t all sweaty and smelly now. We don’t have to sleep on the ground, we aren’t eating C-rations, we don’t have to walk around in the rain, our clothes aren’t filthy, nobody is actually trying to kill us, we’re not carrying 40 pounds of guns and ammo along with other gear, the list goes on and on.
Grateful to be.
With all that in mind, here are the rules of the road:
Keep your weapon ready.
Keep your cigarettes dry.
Eat your fruit cocktail first.
Which is to say, keep your shit together (take your medicine, watch your step, drive carefully) and enjoy that fruit cocktail (the best thing in C-rations), because it may be your last.