It has been a few good days since our standoff in Fallujah. Much to my protest, but happy to himself, Galland is up and running again. He is most definitely running around with the nurse, which I know him; he fully won't continue the relationship once we are back at base. But I will let the man have his fun; I somehow doubt that it shall interfere with his capability to word, for unlike the rest of us here, he won't feel the slight bit frustrated at all.
And let us hope that he got it all and even a bit extra, for we are taking ourselves a bit further into the city than last time. Now I am not going to say a routine run anymore, for the shit does seem to hit harder. Today we will be three Humvees, one squad, and one team in a Stryker. Yes, the big ass truck that Isabella is shooting me with when I get home, the woman has still not forgiven me for that. Best she does not hear what we are doing with an M1A2.
