Sam Kelly could see his GP tent fifty yards away. He was practically salivating at the thought of a shower and a clean bed. Showers were almost pointless at this dusty military base in hellish sub-Saharan Africa anyway.
Four weeks behind enemy lines with limited supplies and he was also starving. Even an MRE sounded good about now. His bunkmate had likely gotten to it weeks ago. Greedy fucker. Sam paused and turned at the sound of the condescending, unfamiliar voice. With one look Sam knew he was new in-country. Hell, it had to be a hundred and thirty degrees right now.
Yeah, this dick was definitely new. Sam gave him a blank stare and kept his stance relaxed. Relaxed grooming standards.
God, could this guy be any greener? The man opened his mouth again and Sam could practically hear the stupid shit he was about to spout off by the arrogant look on his face. The man reminded Sam of an angry bull, and when he got pissed, everyone suffered. He was a good battalion commander, though. Guy could be a scary fucker when he wanted.
I was just inquiring about his lack of grooming. Yeah, that was going to itch something fierce when it started peeling. Sam smiled inwardly at the thought.
