T2000: W+27

According to the Colonel, strong sergeants make strong soldiers.

I can believe that. Our CSM was a soldiers soldier. You cut him open and he bled red, white and blue. He was just as you read about – moral, principled, heroic, stoic, and a role model for folks like me. During the Fall I saw a different side to him. As the shells burst around us, he was like the rest of us, cowering and screaming. Knowing that this was within him, that he was only human, was somewhat inspiring. It meant that I could be as good as him one day. He was only human so what’s my excuse?

The Colonel is a guy like that. Larger than life but ultimately human. I’ve never met a commander like him – and I probably never will again. He’s got the right kind of authority; the sort that makes you want to please him. Like every shitty task he’s telling you to do is him placing trust in you that you’ll do it right. It would break my heart to see him cowering in a foxhole.

Food has been particularly scarce in the last week. We have rations but we are doing our best to conserve them. Eating the perishables before they perish is obviously sensible. So today we had apples. The Doc knew how many apples we had and she said she noticed the Colonel wasn’t eating. She finds him exasperating – when she confronted him, he said he was saving them until he found some really nice pasty crust. Some sugar. A little cinnamon.

We’d need an oven too. Or a fryer. I prefer fried pies but Monk thinks I’m crazy. Beside’s he says we only have engine oil to fry them in.

Tomorrow we should be near Prague. And I have a shopping list.

About matt

Gamer. Writer. Dad. Serial Ex-husband. Creator of The 23rd Letter, SpaceNinjaCyberCrisis XDO, ZOMBI, Testament, Creed. Slightly megalomaniac
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