Juliet Tango Mike Alpha

Dark and silent late last night
I think I might have heard the highway calling
Geese in flight and dogs that bite
The signs that might be omens say
I’m going, going
I’m gone to Carolina in my mind
--Taylor

Another boring dispatch from the land that time forgot. The sun has finally remembered that we are here, and it is repaying all of the heat that it forgot to kill us with all winter. It is getting pretty hot during the day. Walking over to the CP or the DFAC is getting to be an endeavor in and of itself. It is already impossible to go to the portajohns around noon, because it’s so bad in there. Like somebody had an accident in a sauna.

Still haven’t gotten my Rosetta Stone Arabic language program. Not happy about this at all. It has been about three weeks since I ordered it. I’ll give it a little while longer, and then I’m calling those guys and yelling at them.

My sleep schedule is getting really screwed up. We are turning in some of our useless or rarely-used trucks in preparation for redeployment, and the convoys that cart them off come in the dead of the night. A lot of us have to stay up until a godawful hour to load the trucks onto the HETs. We’re back to getting three and four hours of sleep a night several times a week. As many calories as we burn working during the day, the sleep deprivation takes a lot bigger toll than it would in garrison. I’d PT an hour and a half every day back at Campbell, and I would still be productive on only five or so hours a night. But now I need at least seven or I feel like I’ve been in a fistfight towards evening. And you can only make coffee so strong before it’s undrinkable.

We are changing out commanders in a couple weeks. I am apprehensive. I’ve had my differences with this one, but every time I’ve stood up to him on something, he’s let me have my way. I’m afraid this new guy will think he has to “show his ass,” to use an army term, and be all hardcore at first. I am especially afraid he’ll make me go to PT. I hate these units that do collective PT in the mornings. This is a damn combat zone. Collecting in large groups without armor or weapons is just asking for it. I hope the new guy is alright.

More and more of my buddies are starting to go on leave, and a lot of them are already back. My leave is in June, and I can’t wait. I would like to sit out on my porch with a Jack and Coke and spend a long time hurling various toys down the hill for my dog to tear after. No grand schemes or big plans. No expectations. Just Home. It is getting harder and harder to keep it off my mind.