Guys and gals,
Those who know me know I'm in the stan. For those who know me and don't know I'm here, send oreos and I'll forgive you. For those who don't know me, you're wrong, fix yourself.
I was in my office the night Kunduz fell and there was a knock on my door. I opened it and a burly SF colonel asked to use my SIPR phone. Of course I obliged.
It didn't matter that I was in the room with him, I couldn't understand his jargon. Shit, I couldn't understand anything he was saying. I stared at his gear and his beard and dreamed of an alternate universe where I wasn't a POG.
My daydreams were interrupted by the smell of coffee. My pot was ready. I poured two mugs, one for each of us. By now his call ended. Whatever issue was bothering him at the time was resolved. Such issues I'll never understand; I couldn't fathom what these guys go through.
He was impressed by my coffee and it invigorated him. The team needed a guy like me, he grumbled, and offered me the experience of a lifetime. Before I could process anything I was in my kit flying to take back kunduz. The plan was to quick rope in but I didn't go to air assault for nothing. I grabbed a spare leash from the k9 team and made a swiss seat. Long story short, I'm the first and only person to air assault by rappelling into a warzone. The night raid did not live up to my expectations for I didn't kick in a single door. Instead, I just listened to jtacs guide the AC 130 into FUCKING SHIT UP. SERIOUSLY, AC130s WERE INVENTED BY A GUY ON ACID TO RAIN HELL UPON ENEMIES OF FREEDOM.
As the sun rose and the dust cleared, my colonel buddy asked me my future plans with the military. As I formulated my careful sentences in my head, the colonel offered me an sf position on the spot. One condition, I'd need to take an apft. 90 in each even. Sure, I said with adrenaline still coursing through me. And so it began right there. I used a gps watch to measure a mile out and back but it seemed like a marathon. It was then I realized the last thing I drank was a mug of coffee. I crossed the finish line dehydrated and the colonel gave me a disdainful look. As he handed me my sheet I looked at my score... It was about tree-fiddy.
Goddamit.