Kristy brought it to my attention that I haven’t posted anything in a while. My sincerest apologies. I’m back in that ‘groundhog day’ abyss. Tearing through books out here. Finished Mark Twain and now I’m elbow deep in a novel by Oliver North.
The days are really short when the only thing that gets you out of bed is knowing that they stop serving lunch in 30 minutes. Yes, I can sleep till noon…’cause I’m the senior Army officer within a million miles of this desert outpost and I said so….that’s why. It helps that the weather has turned weird and that the visibility has gone down, to the point that I’m confident our commander won’t approve us to launch unless it’s him on the stretcher. We had a freakish sand storm blow through the other day, and it has affected the weather pattern considerably. They days are hotter, but the nights are so much cooler and the air is more humid. Too much haze and moisture in the air means I can’t see far enough for their comfort level to accept the risk of us flying.
We’re in British territory now, and I’m beginning to decipher the language. We pass the time debating who has butchered the language more, us or them. Take the already thick accent and transmit it over a garbled radio and then leave it to me to decode all the code words, acronyms and phrases- as I come screaming into their busy airport. It’s a wonder I’m still alive. To avoid ruffling feathers, I’ve made personal visits to the control tower and the supporting British helicopter forces. Really great people who are very patient with us Americans and our airspace/ procedural violations. I really wish we were more professional. I’m sensing that the American military has put more weight in its reputation and status than its skills. The British aviation units are a clean cut bunch who operate very precisely, and have meticulous procedures. What we lack in refinement we make up in straight up guts. Their Apaches fly as our armed escorts, but they prefer to stay at about 7000 feet, while we are down at the hilltops. Yes, they aren’t going to get shot at up there, but if their role is to protect me, I’d like them to actually see the guys who are shooting at me and engage them, not just tell me what they’re doing.
It seems the general ego and chip-on-our-shoulder attitude most foreigners see Americans as having has hampered relationships. Especially with the ‘Lunch Lady.’ It has become almost comical…almost. Yes, the sign does say that you can only have one dessert, and only one portion of that dessert. But our experience shows that it only applies to Americans. If you’re from any of the other continents, you CAN put ice cream on your brownie- as we have observed everyone in line ahead of us doing. But be prepared for a verbal lashing if you even reach for that ice cream scoop, with something else already in your bowl. It’s a good thing I can’t understand what she’s saying. Poor Kennedy. He’s tried everything he can and has just about given up on his quest to get ice cream on top of anything. Maybe Americans are selfish pigs who eat too many desserts.

It was also our 8th wedding anniversary on the 4th. I’m pretty sure I’ve missed at least half of them. As much as I tell her, I don’t think she’ll ever know how much I truly love and adore her. If a heart could physically explode, I’m sure mine would have long ago- every time I think of her, it races through my chest.