Cpt. Hancock Afghanistan Diary #19

Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Slow Ride
Location: Kandahar Airfield (KAF), Afghanistan
Relative Time Zone: +11.5 Hrs 15 SEP2011

Disclaimer: This story is inspired by some actual events. In all cases incidents, characters and timelines have been changed for dramatic purposes. Many events and interpersonal exchanges are fictitious. Characters may be composites, or entirely fictitious. No classified information was used in the creation of the story, it is unclassified.

Exclusive to the California Political News and Views 11/10/11

With the new 82nd Airborne division coming in and replacing the 10th MTN Division in Kandahar, the Luxemborg Dining Facility was back in business once more. They had a fresh new group of soldiers who had not yet realized that the Luxemborg, near the Commanding General’s Headquarters, was without question the worst dining facility at any major post in Afghanistan.

Thus Azmaray and Mateen saw nothing amiss as they sat down and prepared to eat dinner. They were spies for the Taliban (TB) who worked as contractors on Kandahar Airfield. Their real mission was to conduct reconnaissance on Kandahar Airfield to assess damage from the rocket attacks and to look for security loopholes which could be exploited to create a mass casualty event. So far their mission had met with limited success, but they were patient men.

Azmaray grabbed a piece of beef from his plate and put it in his mouth while he observed the new infidel soldiers who had come to Kandahar, home of the Taliban. Mateen took his fork and attempted to do the same but the tines found no purchase in the meat. Agitated, he stabbed the rubberized meat more aggressively. His fork broke, the meat was untouched. Azmaray winced in pain as blood began to trickle from his mouth. He had chipped a tooth as he chomped down on the unyielding meat.

Mateen meanwhile had moved on to the unidentifiable vegetable puree. He had taken two large mouthfuls before he began to choke. Pounding himself on the chest he was able to clear the blockage as he spit the processed vegetable puree back onto his plate. There it sat looking virtually identical to the unprocessed vegetable puree.

Azmaray gasped “They are attempting to poison us! The Americans know!”

Mateen wiped the tears from his eyes with his napkin as he turned on Azmaray “Silence! Do not speak of this here…”

Chastised, Azmaray shot a glance around the room without moving his head to see if anyone had noticed his outburst.
Mateen continued “We will take a sample of this new infidel plot and report to the Mullah. He will know what to do.”

Azmaray nodded. The two of them began slipping portions of “the evidence” into their napkins as unobtrusively as possible. Having cleared most of their plate in this manner, the two insurgents (INS) rose to leave.

***************************************************
Major (MAJ) Pick [alias for his protection] hung up the phone and walked out of his office. His “Celtic curse” was acting up and had turned his face beet red. He had a smile on his face as he headed to the Commander’s (CDR) door. It was closed as usual, but as a fellow Major, MAJ Pick had no reservations heading in.

As MAJ Pick strode into the room, he saw the office in its usual state of functional disarray. The Commander moved hastily upon his entry, and MAJ Pick saw why. An empty care package had fallen to the ground and all over the CDR’s desk laid hostess Twinkie wrappers like spent shell casing from a firefight. As MAJ Pick’s gaze moved from the desk to the Commander’s face he saw a half eaten Twinkie sticking out of the Commander’s mouth. The CDR’s eyes beneath his wire rimmed glasses were reminiscent of a guilty schoolboy who had been caught by his parents. MAJ Pick was a trauma nurse in his civilian job and had counseled the Commander repeatedly about his diet.

“Another Binder?” MAJ Pick Inquired.

Like a child attempting to conceal an orgy of evidence the CDR shoved the rest of the Twinkie into his mouth. His cheeks swelled like a gopher. The Commander attempted to respond to the question, but nothing came out save Twinkie.

Normally MAJ Pick would be repulsed by such a revolting display, but today he was nonplussed. Still smiling he said to the CDR, “Do you remember those two female nurses we met at FT Dix during mobilization?”

The Commander raised an eyebrow as he kept chewing.

MAJ Pick went on “I just got a call from them. They are passing through Kandahar Airfield on their leave and inquired how we are doing. I let them know we are doing well, all things considered, and asked if they would like us to give them a tour of the Airbase here.” MAJ Pick puffed himself up to his full height. He had the unmistakable look and bearing of a British Aristocrat from a better managed time.

The CDR visibly brightened. He even stopped chewing. The prospect of being able to speak with a real live woman, even in a strictly platonic sense, was simply intoxicating. There are exceedingly few females in a combat zone, and those that are present, are not available for socializing.

Women tend to be practical and their intuition frequently provides important insight. Left to their own designs men as a group tend to lose themselves in endless power games as they compete against, rather than with, one another. While the average male is loathe to admit it, women have an important calming influence which tends to put their world to rights. This is why God created woman, the perfect companion, and gave rise to the greatest of all institutions—marriage.

MAJ Pick proudly proclaimed “They said yes.”

The Commander quickly gulped and madly began grabbing the Twinkie wrappers off of his desk as if the nurses might walk into the room at any minute.

MAJ Pick chuckled to himself as he walked out the door feeling like a million bucks.

***************************************************
Captain (CPT) Straighter [alias for his protection] stared at the computer screen in his Brigade (BDE) headquarters. He had been working for twenty straight hours trying to comply with the Commander’s latest onerous reporting requirements. In additional to all of the tactical missions they regularly performed, they created more reports than any other PSYOP unit in history, but it was never enough to please the old man. CPT Straighter had once called the Commander to protest.

The Commander’s response was swift and severe “I am the Commander. I have a visibility of the battlefield that you will never have CAPTAIN. We are winning this war one Powerpoint slide at a time and don’t you forget it. This is MY victory. Now shut up and send me my damn slides. Commander (that’s me) Out.”

CPT Straighter’s faithful Non-Commissioned Officer In Charge (NCOIC), Staff Sergeant (SSG) Powell, had been working just as long. “Sir, the vehicles are back in from the mission and the soldiers have finished preventative maintenance checks and service (PMCS). I have instructed them to clean their weapons, grab a meal ready to eat (MRE) and get some shut eye.”

CPT Straighter pulled his eyes away from the computer screen to face his faithful NCOIC. SSG Powell was silhouetted against the concrete walls of the warehouse they had taken refuge in and set up as a makeshift headquarters for the Brigade’s PSYOP Teams. They had to squeeze into the loft, and not all of the equipment would fit, but it was their home away from home.

CPT Straighter collected his thoughts a moment before replying “That’s fine Powell just make sure that-“

*BANG*
Both men dropped instantly into a crouch as the windows of the warehouse began to reverberate. They exchanged confused glances for a moment. Their Forward Operating Base (FOB) in the heart of the city was protected by the powerful Duranni tribe. The last time their FOB had been attacked, the Durrani warriors rounded up those responsible as well as their associates, skinned them alive and left them in front of the base. There had been no attacks since.

“Did we miss an announcement for a controlled detonation?” inquired SSG Powell.

*Kablaam*

Another explosion rocked the compound. Dust fell from the concrete ceiling. It was definitely not a controlled detonation this time, and it was close. Both men jumped to the ground, and covered their ears and head with their arms.

*Boom* *KABOOM*

A 90mm mortar round went straight through their roof, embedded itself in the wall on the opposite side of the warehouse and exploded. Parts of the wall went flying destroying a number of supply cabinets and sent a hail of stones blasting across the room. Thankfully the soldiers were lying on the ground and the debris flew over the top of them.

The attack finished, CPT Straighter and SSG Powell checked one another for wounds. Finding none CPT Straighter stood up to survey the room. Mercifully no one who had been in the warehouse at that moment had been hit, but the place was a mess. As Captain Straighter took in each detail, he noticed that a stone had ripped though his computer and damaged his monitor beyond repair.

CPT straighter opened his hands and looked up. “Thank you Lord, though that is not quite what I had in mind.”

***************************************************
Mateen & Azmaray waited patiently outside of the Mullahs home. The village of Mowmand was located in the Ground Defense Area (GDA) around Kandahar Airfield, and was not friendly to the Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF). While Mateen & Azmaray waited, a group of feral dogs came wandering down the dirt road searching for food.

Azmaray grinned evilly and raised his AK-47 to take a pot shot at one of the animals. Mateen waived him down, smiling himself. “I have a better idea.” Reaching into his bag he pulled out the entire unblemished steak from the Luxemborg the previous night. Laughing he threw the steak out into the middle of the road between the animals. “Watch”

The feral dogs watched the steak hit the ground. It smelled delicious and they were starving. Normally the pack followed a strict regime as to which hounds ate what and when. With a find of this magnitude however, the pecking order was out the window—it was every dog for himself. In an instant the dogs were at each other’s throats. Mateen and Azmaray chuckled as they watched an all out canine deathmatch the likes of which not even Michael Vic had seen unfold before them.

Bloodied, and blind in one eye, the victorious mutt moved to claim his prize. Like a Labrador retriever he gulped the entire steak at once. He yelped in pain three times before he began to choke. Mateen and Azmaray continued to laugh until the hound collapsed.

A moment later the door to the home opened and the Mullah and his manservant appeared. The mullah looked around at all the injured dogs. “What happened here?”

Adopting a serious expression, Mateen spoke for the pair “They were poisoned by the Americans”.

The Mullah looked stern for a moment. “The infidels have many schemes to destroy our way of life. It would seem that they are not content to take our children, but now they kill the animals as well.”

Azmaray nodded his ascent.

The Mullah continued “Since you have returned to me I assume your mission has met with success, tell me all.”

Azmaray looked sheepish while Mateen began to sweat. “Actually your greatness, we uhh…. uhh… we uh…. Came here to tell you of an American plot.”

The Mullah simply stared at the men coldly. An uncomfortable minute passed and the Mullah did not move or speak.

Unsure of what to do, Mateen began babbling and told the mullah all about their experience at the Luxemborg and the attempt on their lives. “So we figured we should bring you this evidence so that you could determine the truth of this. That way our other operatives on Kandahar Airfield can be warned.”

Mateen and Azmaray smiled weakly as they pulled the napkins from their bags which contained the remainder of their leftovers from the Luxemborg.

“You idiots!” exclaimed the Mullah. Both Azmaray and Mateen cringed. “You two were our only operatives on KAF. Now you have missed work and you will be fired! Your identification papers and badges will be deactivated!”

Mateen and Azmaray feel to their knees and tugged at their beards. Would the Mullah whip them?

“Do you have any idea how much it cost the mujahedeen to forge your papers and bribe the hiring boss?” the Mullah continued. “And now it is all wasted!”

The two Taliban infiltrators let out bleating moans and reached for the Mullah’s hands in supplication. “Mercy! Have Mercy on us High one!”

The Mullah pulled back his hands and the rings that adorned them in anger. “I can show you mercy but Allah will not. You have wasted the fate he bestowed upon you to strike a mortal blow against the enemies of Islam.”

Mateen and Azmaray pulled their hair and moaned louder. “Oh please great one, forgive. Intercede with Allah for us! There must be something we can do, there must be a way!”

The Mullah was thoughtful for a moment, devising a way to cut his losses, and lessen the stain on his honor. Finally he spoke. “There is but one thing you can do to gain the attention and good graces of God once more.”

“Tell us oh great one!” they both said at once. “What must we do?”

The Mullah’s face was grim. You must martyr yourselves in his name. This will open the gates of heaven to you once more, and ensure that your family does not live in shame.

The two Taliban looked downcast. They did not want to die, but there was nothing left for them now. Mateen looked up. “Very well your greatness, what must we do?”

The Mullah invited them inside and continued in a conspiratorial tone. “There is a group of Haqqani coming across the border in three nights. You will meet them at the outskirts of the city and guide them to a target at Kandahar Airfield. Do not attack the main gate. Pick something you can actually damage. Use your badges to get through the outer cordon. They should be good for the next couple of days.”

Committed to their fate, Mateen and Azmaray nodded eagerly. “Yes High one it will be done!”

The Mullah smiled and extended his hands to the men who would soon leave this existence. The men fell to their knees and kissed the rings on the Mullah’s hands. “Thank you for your generosity great one, it will not be forgotten. We will not disappoint you!”

*************************************************
The following morning MAJ Pick awoke with a spring in his step and a light in his eye. Both CPT Hancock and the Chief (Chief Warrant Officer) noticed. MAJ Pick proceeded through the work day with a shit eating grin. He had a secret and was determined to project an air of mystery to enhance the effect.

Eventually CPT Hancock and the Chief, after lengthy repartee, talked it out of him. He and the CDR were going on a friendly date with a pair of nurses that night. In a combat environment such admissions generally lead to jealousy and attempts at sabotage by other male soldiers. CPT Hancock and the Chief however simply smiled and wished the Major luck.

MAJ Pick and the CDR arrived at the restaurant early that evening, ensuring that they got the best seats for their “dates”. They had come to Echoes, the one place on Kandahar airfield where you could procure decent food—at three times the going rate. MAJ Pick and the CDR smiled. They were wearing their best uniforms, and had combed what was left of their hair. Money was no object tonight.

Not long thereafter Nurse Chapel and Nurse Monique arrived. They too had cleaned and pressed their uniforms, which was no small feat, when living out of a single duffel bag. Nurse Chapel was the senior officer. She had long blonde hair, and while somewhat plain looking, was extremely intelligent. Nurse Monique was from the island of Trinidad, and possessed a stunning, exotic, beauty which was only enhanced by her contagious optimism and hearty laughter.

Dinner went well with MAJ Pick and the Commander fighting for the right to pay the bill. Several near beers later when it was settled, they made preparations to head to the van for the tour of Kandahar Airfield. As the Senior the CDR paired up with Nurse Chapel, while MAJ Pick happily escorted Nurse Monique. MAJ Pick found himself somewhat tongue tide around the beauty, but Nurse Monique was extremely forgiving.

All four officers piled into the Company van and the CDR started the engine. While it was typical protocol for the junior to drive the senior, the CDR liked to drive himself as it gave him a feeling of control. The CDR threw the van into reverse while MAJ Pick called out “Where to Ladies?”

Nurse Chapel spoke up “Could you show us the airfield and tells us about the planes there? Perhaps we could take a couple of pictures with them in the background?” Nurse Monique smiled. MAJ Pick looked at the Commander who in turn looked at him. Both officers knew the flight line was a high security area closed to traffic and that pictures were forbidden.

MAJ Pick and the CDR eyeballed each other for another moment before replying in unison “Sure! No problem.”

MAJ Pick and the CDR maneuvered around the backside of the airport and found a point of access. It was dark and the van was quickly lost amidst the myriad of other mission essential vehicles moving equipment and personnel across the flight line. They tooled along for about fifteen minutes before Nurse Chapel spotted a pair of full loaded A10 Warthogs preparing for a mission.

“Ohhh Wow. Could we take a picture in front of those planes? That would be so wonderful” intoned Nurse Chapel.

MAJ Pick and the Commander shot each other a sidelong glance before the CDR stepped on the breaks a little too hard. “Sure!”
A moment later four field grade officers spilled out of the van with a camera. They struck a number of silly poses in front of the attack planes with the camera flash flowing freely. MAJ Pick saw the light bar of a Flight Security vehicle turn on and head in their direction. He gestured frantically, but subtly to the CDR. When the Commander saw the Military Police (MP) coming their way he hurried everyone into the van, stepped on the gas, and shot around a corner hoping to lose them. Unfortunately another MP car, attracted by the camera flashes, had been coming from the opposite direction to investigate. Seeing the PSYOP van race around the corner, the MP’s hit their siren and blocked the escape route. The van skidded to a halt.

“Driver in the white van step out with your hands in the air. Make no sudden moves. We are authorized to use lethal force if you do not comply. You have 30 seconds.”

MAJ Pick panicked and nearly pushed the Commander out the door. This caught the attention of the MP’s.

“Passenger in the front seat of the white van step out with your hands in the air. Make no sudden moves. We are authorized to use lethal force if you do not comply. You have 30 seconds.”

Nurse Chapel looked concerned while Nurse Monique smiled nervously as MAJ Pick and the CDR were forced out of the car. The MPs separated the two male officers, bent them over the hood of the van and handcuffed them.

***************************************************
Mateen drove the delivery van as inconspicuously as possible as he pulled up outside the Global Services Corporate Warehouse. Global Services was in charge of producing all the infidel food that the foreign invaders consume. They were also the people responsible for blowing Mateen and Azmaray’s cover through their attempted poisoning. Mateen looked behind the partition in the van and verified that the explosives had been properly connected. Tonight they would extract vengeance, there was no room for error.

Mateen pulled the lighter from the vehicle and ignited the hashish he had rolled to smoke. After lighting his own, he passed the lighter to Azmaray in the passenger’s seat who did the same. Cautious not to jostle any of the wires protruding from his suicide vest, Azmaray gently inserted the lighter back into the outlet on the dashboard. Both men laughed. What was the point?

An uncomfortable silence ensued. This was the last time they would see each other. “Tonight we dine with Allah” Azmaray intoned.

“Yes… brother” came Mateen’s reply. The two were an unlikely pair with very different family backgrounds. Their mutual struggles had drawn them close, and made them brothers-in-arms.

Mateen’s eyes burned bright as he continued “While this is not how I thought things would end, I see now that Allah has great plans for us both.”

Azmaray nodded, glowing with the compliment.

“By destroying their food, the Americans and their lapdogs will be forced to leave” Mateen said excitedly “they cannot stay without food.”

“It is so simple, praise be to Allah for opening our eyes to this truth” Azmaray replied.

“Praise be to Allah!” they both exclaimed.

“Allah Akbar!”
“Allah Akbar!”
“Allah Akbar!”

Azmaray nodded to Mateen one final time as he grabbed his rifle and exited the vehicle. Mateen watched him head to the staging area with the other fighters. Mateen took one final long puff of his joint and put it out. He did not want to have haram (forbidden crops) in his mouth when he went to God. Steeling himself for what was yet to come he smiled, for he knew something others did not—the future.

A moment later he revved the engine and the van shot into motion…

***************************************************
After thirty minutes of searching and identification checks, the Commander and MAJ Pick were finally able to talk their way out of being arrested. Nurse chapel was somewhat subdued when the men returned to the vehicle, but Nurse Monique couldn’t help but laugh at the entire affair.

The Commander started the vehicle and began to head away from the flight line. Two military police vehicles followed like wingmen to make sure they left. Regaining his dignity MAJ Pick broke the ice “Ladies what do you say we take a tour of the scenic perimeter of the base? I hear they even have some trees out that way.”

Nurse Chapel nodded her ascent while Nurse Monique spoke up “That would be lovely”.

In the desert of Kandahar trees are an anomaly and a status symbol. On the Persian New Year known as NowRuz, it is customary to plant a tree to represent life, health, and a new beginning. In the years that NATO forces have been at Kandahar Airfield, they have planted thousands of trees in partnership with the Afghans who celebrate NowRuz. Unfortunately, the water table is too deep for the saplings to reach, and as the Afghans have little water and no interest in watering trees, the NowRuz plantings invariably die the following month. An auspicious omen for the future of Afghanistan…

Once they exited the airfield proper everyone visibly relaxed. The security vehicles had long since dropped off, and they had discovered a dirt road which ran the perimeter of the facility. They spooked the lizards that were clustered on the abandoned road, as they pulled away from the concrete jungle of Kandahar Airfield.

For the first time since coming to Afghanistan MAJ Pick and the Commander heard the sound of crickets while they proceeded into the no man’s land between Kandahar Airfield and Kandahar City. They continued the scenic tour and the Commander regaled the ladies with humorous tales of his raucous youth. Nurse Monique laughed so hard she began to cry, and Nurse Chapel found herself caught up in the moment.

Presently the headlights of the van illuminated a small wooden barricade in the road, reminiscent of what one might find blocking an abandoned mine in the Wild West.

“What’s that?” asked Nurse Chapel

MAJ Pick squinted trying to get a better look “It looks like an old sawhorse in the road”

“Do you think it’s a booby-trap?” asked Nurse Chapel. “Perhaps we should turn back”

“Nonsense” replied the Commander with authority. “There is so much garbage strewn on the roads of Afghanistan that you just have to get accustomed to it. It’s no big deal we just go around.”

MAJ Pick frowned a moment. “Hmmm… I think the perimeter map showed this road as a dead end, perhaps we should double back and take another.”

“MAJ Pick” the Commander retorted “I have done over one-hundred patrols here in Afghanistan and am a former infantryman. I know the maps of the area like the back of my hand. Trust me this road loops around and rejoins the old division road by ECP 5.”

Nurse Monique giggled.

The Commander maneuvered the van around the road block and continued on. Shortly thereafter actual living trees began to come into view. They were small by western standards, but flourishing here in the war torn desert made them simply magical. The ladies took turns ooohing and ahhhing.

“I think I remember the map indicated this road heads out to the firing range” muttered MAJ Pick.

The Commander scowled at him and drove on.

The density of the trees continued to increase as they proceeded. Eventually the road narrowed and spilled out in a small court which appeared to have three small buildings at the far end.

MAJ Pick and the Commander exchanged confused looks with one another.

The Nurses, who had been lazily glancing out the window the entire time, caught what appeared to be a slow moving comet very close to their position. They watched it with interest until it vanished. At that instant a massive fireball in the shape of a mushroom cloud erupted a quarter mile away. The nurses stared in shock.

“What do you those are?” asked the Commander.

“They appear to be three small buildings in a line” intoned MAJ Pick

The fireball from Mateen’s vehicle borne improvised explosive device (VBIED) continued to grow on the horizon just out of view of the officers in the front seat. The nurses were frozen as shrapnel from the blast began to rip through the tree line amputating limbs from the desert wonders. One lucky piece of shrapnel made it all the way through the undergrowth, struck the van, and destroyed the left rear tail light.

“A guard post maybe?” suggested the Commander.

“Nah too small. And why would there be a guard post all the way out here?”

Just then there was a popping sound and a thud as the shrapnel impacted the tail light.

“What was that?” asked the Commander.

“Probably a bat. The wildlife is not used to people being out here” continued MAJ Pick.

As the Nurses continued to stare in horror in the direction of the blast, Azmaray charged into the Supreme Global Services Compound and detonated his suicide vest. This registered as an additional flash in the women’s line of sight.

“Yeah you’re probably right” continued the commander “If it was a guard post all the way out here there would be vehicles parked nearby and there are none.”

Just then the shock wave from the VBIED rolled through the area and shook the van.

“Man it sure is noisy out here” stated the Commander.

Terrorists began flooding into the Supreme Global Services Compound firing AK-47s and Rocket Propelled Grenades (RPGs) while green tracer rounds ripped through the trees and rocketed past the van.

“I told you the map showed this as the range” MAJ Pick huffed.

Nurse Chapel and Nurse Monique regained their senses and in a singular voice cut loose an ear shattering scream.

“Keep it down ladies!” the Commander exclaimed “we have a decision to make up here”

“I think those may be the range control buildings” MAJ Pick went on.

“Hmmm the one on the left may be the communications building and the center may be where they keep the targets. What do you think?” asked the Commander.

The nurses continued to scream and began to gesture wildly to the left.

“Geez ladies stop!” exclaimed MAJ Pick. “I’m trying to think up here.” MAJ Pick squinted once more. “Ok I’ll buy that for the first two buildings but what is the third?”

“Hmmmm… dunno” came the Commander’s reply “it just doesn’t make sense.”

A stray rocket propelled grenade flew into the wood line and destroyed a small copse of trees 200 meters from the vehicle.

“Pull up closer” continued MAJ Pick “Let’s get a better look”

The Commander moved the van forward, to get a better view of the buildings. AK-47 rounds made a cracking sound as they whipped through the space the van had just vacated.

MAJ Pick stared at the small buildings “Uhhh” suddenly he broke into a tremendous laugh.

“What?!” demanded the Commander.

“Hit your high beams” MAJ Pick smiled.

The Commander tapped the button to turn on the high beams as three lone port-a-potties came into view. The Commander groaned.

Frantic, Nurse Chapel slapped the Commander on the back and pointed to her left.

“What?!” exclaimed the Commander and MAJ Pick. Seeing an uncharacteristic look of fear on Nurse Monique’s face their eyes followed along her arm to where she was gesturing wildly. The men saw the remnants of the fireball and the tracer rounds from the ongoing attack. “Oh Shit!”

MAJ Pick frantically reached for his pistol magazine and promptly dropped it on the floor. The Commander hit the gas pedal and slammed the van into the nearest port-a-potty knocking it over. The Nurses screamed again. MAJ Pick threw on the dash light to look for his pistol magazine, promptly blinding the commander, who had thrown the vehicle into reverse.

“Crap I can’t see!” yelled the Commander.

“My Magazine!” yelled MAJ Pick.

“Look out for the tree!” yelled the nurses.

The Commander slammed on the brakes in the nick of time. Everyone in the vehicle lurched forward as the transmission shifted into second gear. Tires spitting gravel with rounds flying overhead, the van did a hasty reverse and flew back down the access road. The remainder of the trip passed largely in silence, as one party or another cast furtive glances over their shoulder.

The Commander pulled the van up to the temporary housing building so that the Nurses would not have to walk. Everyone climbed out of the vehicle and stretched.

“Well thank you for an… engaging… evening” Nurse Chapel began.

Nurse Monique chuckled.

“You boys sure know how to show a couple of ladies a good time” Nurse Chapel finished.

Completely missing the sarcasm in her voice, MAJ Pick and the Commander puffed themselves up proudly. “It was our pleasure ladies. Do let us know when you pass through again, and we will be happy to take you out once more.”

Nurse Chapel rolled her eyes.

“Ahh yes that would be… grand… thank you” chortled nurse Monique.

“Good night gentlemen” stated Nurse Chapel.

“Good night ladies” came the reply.

The Commander and MAJ Pick were ecstatic as they climbed back into the van. They drove back to the barracks laughing and joking the entire way. As they pulled up to their quarters MAJ Pick turned regally to the Commander and spoke “Well Sir, I must say, we still have it.”

The Commander smiled “We sure do!”