Back again, for the last time. I was home one second ago.  Now, I in my other home. The one I share with my brothers in arms.

Home is where you make it to be. For me, it’s the place I currently reside. Be it my rigthful birthplace, the apartment of my lovely woman, the lousy barrack in this camp or in the end, the tent with my backpack, in which I recharge my batteries to live and fight another day in this world.  Neither case is the better really. I may love the feeling of waking up beside her, in the bed of love that we share. I may also love the feeling of waking up all alone with no restrictions or regulations by my self. Lastly, I may also really love the feeling of waking up in the wilderness, just to breathe in the air of non-humans the first you do when you wake up.. Flawless.

In any case, we’re back. Back on track. At least in our minds we are. We mentally and physically prepare for the operations ahead which tend to lean onto weeks living outside the camp. We train on the shooting range, check our gears twice and wake up our sixth sense.

We fight, as always, against the demigods of weather and their likes. The one and only god of the sun, Ra, has entered  the fighting arena, bringing his whole arsenal of heat and sunshine towards me and my northern boys. But we know the drill. We got the tricks up our sleave. We will need to get accostumed once more and when we do; we will hack n’ slash n’ thrust our way into our enemies core if given the chance. This is our time. This is our job. This is my life.

Soon, I will be home again for the last time, this time. Gone from this land that symbolizes the war on terror that no western-born human ever can come to fully understand. Homecoming is drawing nearer every moment even if I was just there. It is right now that we can make things happen.

This is Lance Corporal Fresh. Signing In & Out.