Its Book-In Time, and oh I remembered those days. The dread of going back in. The heaviness of heart to begin the journey back to camp. That state of denial that now the Army owns you and your time. Progressively, as the bus picks you up to your boarding of the fastcraft and subsequently the 5-tonner, any semblance of the civilisation you know and enjoyed begins to slowly fade and then absolutely vanish altogether.
The woods, the jungle, the swamps, the ‘rocky hill’, the beach-head is your home now. Your men are your entrustment. Your rifle, is now your companion.
Oh I dread the days.
I’m not required to be there anymore, and I hope it will forever stay that way. That I pray.
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