I'll do that. Reminds me of the time the mem's hat blew away on Brighton beach. All then proceed with their game of whist while the wind howls around them. The mem complains about the slight draft as the cards are scattered throughout the tent for the fourth time. Jenkins is sent outside to hold the tent flap closed with his teeth.
War is hell.
Bring some willy-petes, and three claymores. We'll belly crawl the last 100 meters, as soon as we get a spot on the objective. If you spot a dink in a spider hole, we're had, grease him, then we'll didi back to the evac site. PBR picks us up at dawn.