Ten Hutt, Counselor

2:52am: Why are you not writing? They ask. Well, to tell you the truth, I originally started this to join friends and read their friends-only thoughts. Which I do. I also thought it might be nice to write about events that happened over a decade ago. But, to tell you the truth, the daily madness of war today makes me less and less inclined to write. My friends, comrades, and brethren and sisters in arms are dying, and I don't feel like dragging attention away from them.

Let's not look into the past, the future is now, and this war is reality. Just as the past few were. And just as the next ones will be. War is a tragedy in media-managed doses. Look beyond the news, beyond the glory and beyond what you are told. And help a soldier in need, today. For me, and for them. Thank you.

3:27pm: Getting by in the BZ
When deployed, most soldiers exhibit a M*A*S*H like behavioral structure. Small knicknacks are obtained and carefully placed, in an attempted strike towards creating a semblance of normality and "home". My creature comfort was the laptop. I'd packed it, against protests from Command, to study and continue my paper on Law of The Land, which I'd promised to deliver after my tour. In reality, the laptop was home to three RPGs, a collection of modern and old writings, downloaded from various BBSes, and MIDI music to play through its speakers.

Don't let the term laptop fool you. This is the early nineties, and the thing was a monster. It was heavy, unwieldy, and had a battery lifespan of less than two hours, if I was lucky.

10:18am: One summer morning in '93, we set sails for Somalia. I hadn't read much about this country before, only the few news we were able to watch during the day, and some news paper articles about the conflict. I honestly didn't even know where exactly Somalia was, or what the capital was called.

Being a One-L at this time, my Summer Associateship was destined to be with the local Army JAG officers for the duration of my tour, then to return back into the climate controlled, shower providing, McDonald's serving arms of western civilization.

Most veterans will agree with me, on this: the worst part of any tour is the deployment week. Some of us got a case of the nerves, while others went Full Metal Jacket on bunk mates and officers. I, at this point, did not worry too much, after all, I was destined to be a lawyer, and therefore far behind enemy lines. Little did I know, that of all things, Mogadishu had nothing like an "enemy line". The whole darned city was the BZ.

To the largest part, the flight itself was uncomfortable yet uneventful. We touched down at 2300hrs, got our gear out, and - after a short briefing and welcome - went to catch some Zs while there was still time.