Mortars

"...of the embattled flaming multitude
Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,
And with the clashing of their sword-blades make
A rapturous music..."
-Yeats

I got mortared yesterday, twice. I was nowhere near danger, so don't worry. It's just odd that I come to a base that's so safe, that never sees action, and twice in one day I am close to it. I think the local terrorists are just trying to test out this new group of soldiers coming in. I feel sorry for them once the outgoing unit leaves; of all the brigades in all the divisions in the Army, ours is probably the worst to pick a fight with. We're going to bring the wrath of God down on these idiots.

It was kind of surreal. I've been training for combat for six years, almost, and now I'm in it. It's like an athlete, I guess, not able to believe he's finally playing in the championship game. Of course, plenty of good soldiers are in a lot worse situation that I'm in, but still. Incoming mortars. Just drives home how real it is now.

However, I am very excited about this place. I hope we stay all year. I am in a very good place and am very excited about my job. I can't remember being this optimistic about work. Hopefully the head shed will just stay in their lane and let me do my job, and it'll be great.

To my family and friends: if you know where I am, or my job, or what unit I'm a part of, don't post it on here. This is for security reasons. Also don't post my full name. I just want to be sure I don't get in trouble with command.

Well, I'm going to try to call Jen. Take care, all.