Post by flession on Feb 14, 2010 1:54:24 GMT -5
One would have to say that, coming from a sub-zero tundra to a hot jungle would be a blessing.
One would probably be smacked in the head, though. It's summertime here in the Southern Hemisphere, and it couldn't be hotter, more muggier, and the snow slamming in your face doesn't even compare to the swarms of bugs flying towards you to consume your blood.
At least my legs are already numb and dead.
Although, pending a few more tests, I should be able to start my regenerative therapy on my legs, and get my legs back into some form of movement by the end of the year. All paid for by your taxes, of course.
Military does have its benefits.
As I sit around in my chair, swatting off mosquitoes off of my dead legs, I cannot help but notice the scene. We're at the Irrawaddy Delta, from what the reports said, gathering our forces and preparing for the attack on the fleet. It's been a rough few days watching my new Guntank get into full repair. Those mobile suits did a number on the cannon and treads, so much so I can hardly believe that there was a mobile suit left.
If I keep this up, they might just stick me in a Ball.
I can see a few of the officers roaming around the tent area we have setup for the meeting, as the men stand around, drinking water and soaking in the warm sun. I have to admit, despite the bugs, maybe it does feel a little good getting out of that hellhole. It served it's purpose, tactically speaking. The death toll, however, was not something I like to dwell on even now. Nor the...monstrosity of a mobile suit that destroyed it in one blow.
Hopefully that Gundam can take care of the beast soon. As long as White Base remains afloat, the Earth Federation's symbol of hope remains strong.
Ever dutiful as I usually try to be, I drink my canteen, scouting the area as the higher ups begin their final plan. This is just a mere pit stop before we begin the attack, and none of their radar units have been spotted yet.
For now, this is the calm of the storm. Seeing a few men lounging about, I wheel myself over to their position, which I might say, is very hard in a rice patty. At least my arms are ripped beyond belief from this whole experience.
As I stop there, I take another sip of my canteen and look at each of them. "Beats the hell out of the snow, eh?"
One would probably be smacked in the head, though. It's summertime here in the Southern Hemisphere, and it couldn't be hotter, more muggier, and the snow slamming in your face doesn't even compare to the swarms of bugs flying towards you to consume your blood.
At least my legs are already numb and dead.
Although, pending a few more tests, I should be able to start my regenerative therapy on my legs, and get my legs back into some form of movement by the end of the year. All paid for by your taxes, of course.
Military does have its benefits.
As I sit around in my chair, swatting off mosquitoes off of my dead legs, I cannot help but notice the scene. We're at the Irrawaddy Delta, from what the reports said, gathering our forces and preparing for the attack on the fleet. It's been a rough few days watching my new Guntank get into full repair. Those mobile suits did a number on the cannon and treads, so much so I can hardly believe that there was a mobile suit left.
If I keep this up, they might just stick me in a Ball.
I can see a few of the officers roaming around the tent area we have setup for the meeting, as the men stand around, drinking water and soaking in the warm sun. I have to admit, despite the bugs, maybe it does feel a little good getting out of that hellhole. It served it's purpose, tactically speaking. The death toll, however, was not something I like to dwell on even now. Nor the...monstrosity of a mobile suit that destroyed it in one blow.
Hopefully that Gundam can take care of the beast soon. As long as White Base remains afloat, the Earth Federation's symbol of hope remains strong.
Ever dutiful as I usually try to be, I drink my canteen, scouting the area as the higher ups begin their final plan. This is just a mere pit stop before we begin the attack, and none of their radar units have been spotted yet.
For now, this is the calm of the storm. Seeing a few men lounging about, I wheel myself over to their position, which I might say, is very hard in a rice patty. At least my arms are ripped beyond belief from this whole experience.
As I stop there, I take another sip of my canteen and look at each of them. "Beats the hell out of the snow, eh?"
