Wake early, my soul is stirring, full and ready for the day to come.

My equipment, is it ready? Yes, gather my ammunition, make sure the springs in the magazines are still going strong.

My weapons, my good ol pistola, shes clean, ready for action, my long armed baby, in all of her 5.56 glory, clean and ready for the day to come, shes gonna get dirty.

And, as they say, guns for the show, knives, for a pro.

My two small skinning blades I keep for pinch, and my big bertha, clarity, is her name.

In all of her 10 inch buck knife glory, right up onto my hip you go big momma, keep me warm.

Hop into the trucks, I take the back seat, because I want that big bitch of a gun in the back.

Roll out, go our usual path, and it hits us.

Snap, snap snap whee! Snap snap!

Panic striken? I think not, pissed that my morning has been interrupted by these rude assholes, and quite possibly ruined if things go south? A resounding yes.

"6 o'clock, no 9, no, fuck that noise, start shooting at the muzzle flashes"

I let a rip, a drum later, they still are there.

We stop and take cover, how far out?

600 meters, too far, let's get a tad closer.

Rush, up, cover, rush, down, up cover, rush.

450 meters away, that's more like it.

Take a peek, close enough to start putting down serious fire to cover everyone.

Continue the rush, we repeat the process, I see a burm, right down in front my friend.

Theres quite a few of them, but it's okay, more to go around.

Before you know it, we're running low, they are a bit harder to put down then originally thought, I get ready for a rush across a burm and the very possibility that it could be my last fire fight, it's okay, at least I'll bring some company with me to hell.

We continue the futile fight, then before you know an incredible explosion, there was much chatter over the radio, me in my impetuous nature ignored it the entire time, couple of our fly boys decided to come pay a visit, hello friends!

I'm covered in sharpnel, bleeding from every part of my shoulders, my face, got some metal in my left arm, it's okay, cover it with a bandage, still got a route to clear, it'll be fine. Good thing too, because theres plenty more where that came from, and plenty more need killing.

And as I stand there checking everyone and mounting back up, I can't help but look up into that blue and dust covered sky thinking...

"This is the life, I can't wait to get some more work done."

And one I always get...

"It's all in a days work, I like to think I live a rather interesting and adventurous life, can't be afraid to rush a person whos shooting at you, either way your probably going to die, but at least I'll die on my feet, doing what I love...Taking out the trash."