Chapter 83 Pitter Patter Of Drops

• It has been a few good days since our standoff in Fallujah. Much to my protest, but happy to himself, Galland is up and running again. He is most definitely running around with the nurse, which I know him; he fully won’t continue the relationship once we are back at base. But I will let the man have his fun; I somehow doubt that it shall interfere with his capability to word, for unlike the rest of us here, he won't feel the slight bit frustrated at all.
• And let us hope that he got it all and even a bit extra, for we are taking ourselves a bit further into the city than last time. Now I am not going to say a routine run anymore, for the shit does seem to hit harder. Today we will be three Humvees, one squad, and one team in a Stryker. Yes, the big ass truck that Isabella is shooting me with when I get home, the woman has still not forgiven me for that. Best she does not hear what we are doing with an M1A2.
• Besides the point, we are ready to head out. We soon find our way winding through the city streets, which by comparison to last time, is fairly busy with children running around and their very cautious parents sitting nearby. Now, as with all things around here, you do not know which of them holds a gun in their hands or, even far worse, are making our arrival known. But chances that we have to take and a chance as we are soon taking as we get to our destination and filtering out the Humvees to start making our approach on foot. It is time to search and clear again.