A Warrior At Last

This evening, January 23rd, after being in this miserable country for over ten months, I finally have achieved a semblance of the martial glory that I aspired to from Day One. Yes, I have earned the prestigious title of "Door Kicker." This glorious appelation is reserved for those courageous and insane enough to lead the way on a raid. Officers rarely, if ever, are allowed by their troops to achieve this honor.

The evening started as any other, with me groggily rising from my sleeping bag and trudging through the mud over to the showers. The wind that has been whipping here the last few days threw the door to the trailer open, which I slammed to ensure that no one's eyes were astounded by my magnificence.

As I was drying off, I heard a voice, owned by another Captain who'd been in there when I'd arrived, ask, "Are your guys messing with you?"

"No."

"Then someone locked us in."

I took the news in stride as I made sure to assemble my resplendent coiffure. The other captain valiantly thumped on the door in his flip-flops, nearly slipping and falling, before I told him I'd take care of it once I'd put on the shoes that I'd worn over. I did advise him to set down one of the bathmats so that he wouldn't hurt himself as he vainly continued to free us.

Once garbed for battle, I blithely swept my inept colleage aside, and with my first probative strike, performed merely to ascertain the strength of the barrier, our incarceration ended. Aluminium and styrofoam burst forth as I strode valiantly through the remnants into the night, the proud bearer of that noble moniker.