Bombing run

Well my schedule's changed... kinda last minute, I now work every weeknight and have weekends off. My cooking class is pretty much cancelled. I didn't go last time cause I wanted to meet Wendy but that didn't proceed along the proper parameters. Apparently, I should see this last minute change as a promotion cause I got a raise as well and the boss thinks I speak enough french to deal with the french-speaking customers on my own. I don't really like this new change but I didn't really say anything cause I didn't want to start an argument, maybe if I work slower, I'll get my old shifts back. It worked in Afghanistan....

Here I was in a plane (an aircraft, if you want to be technical), anyways this plane was for a bombing run and I didn't want to go out into the field.... I prefered to stay at the "office" in Pakistan where it was a bit safer.... at least no one would hunt you down while on a mission. Here I am preparing the packages to be launched out, I had attended the briefing and watched where the target was going to be. Some village with lots of children, I was told. Seemed like a sensible target. They had to be shown the error in their position against us Americans. We were there to get rid of the Taliban and this village was neutral and may help the Taliban hide in their village. So we'd prevent that from happening.

Now I didn't work any slower and I did my duty as best I could, after all I was doing something right, I wasn't holding a rifle against any of them. I just threw up all over the packages about to be dropped.... we had to clean it up as quickly as we could cause we were approaching the village very quickly.... I wasn't invited on a bombing run after that incident. The mess was cleaned up, but there was still a smell. When the packages were dropped onto the village, the pamphlets with the images explaining we were only after the Taliban and the foodstuff and medicine to show our good faith.... had a strange smell of vomit.... I'll never know if my airsickness caused the village to hesitate or not in their final decision, but at least in the end they welcomed some of our special forces to set up some surveillance post on condition they receive more medicine and food that didn't smell like yak-breath.

I felt comfortable working in Psy-ops, I actually drew some of those images... but still, the military life is not for me. Too aggressive.