In unison, as has been the case for far too long, we all find a smile that comes from the deepest part of our human souls. As all souls onboard, no one lost. Remembering times when the missions were completed. Listed as successes, yet losses to the team. Mission accomplished, man down.
Oxymorons fill the mind, in military rhetoric.
This mission, over, not to be repeated. Not MUCH the worse for wear. Two more weeks, getting the stench of human feces to leave our olfactory nerves alone. Two more weeks, to shed all the sand from every nook and cranny of body, clothes and equipment. Two more weeks, to get the fear of near discovery out of our conscience, yet, storing it carefully as lessons learned, for future missions.