Conditions here at the COP continue to decline seemingly a direct correlation to this war. The showers were out of water again, which made the afternoon organized pt session not very rewarding when all was said on done. I'm still sweating from it, and can still feel the dust in the pit of my throat. I've tried to cough it up with no luck. On the same hand of course as the showers being out of water, our breakfast chow has been cancelled until further notice. Leaving us down to one hot meal a day. I don't want to imagine things getting any worse, I'm not even sure that I really could if I wanted too.
Along with the already numbing effects no showers, lack of food, and mandatory physical exercise, the plot thickens as our First Sergeant closed down the gym to us just like breakfast had been, until further notice. This is absolutely demoralizing in so many words. The internet and phones along with the gym and chow is about the only things we have to look forward too. So when they all disappear, what will we have then? I feel as if sometimes I'm on a cruel reality tv show, and hope that maybe Chris Hanson will walk around the corner with a film crew and a pizza.
I weighed 185 lbs the day I returned from leave here at 763. That was June 8th. Today is July 26th, just over and a half down the road, and I'm at a staggering 172 lbs. There is only one other time in my life that I have lost that amount of weight in such a small amount of time. That was two years ago during Special Forces Selection and Assessment, where in 24 days of grueling physical and mental labor and exhaustion I shed 18 lbs under the August sun in North Carolina. Selection was hard, and very challenging but it's comparison to here is unequivocal.
As I woke up from a short afternoon nap, I first realized that maybe my insomnia is finally passing, and then realized I was in an emotional state that I have never been in. My hole platoon is in it. Depression. I don't think that it's enough that they have taken all of this stuff away from us, leaving us constantly hungry, unmotivated entirely, and sick of the constant bull shit that's being fed to us. The worst part of all, is everyone knows how bad it is from the top to the bottom and back up. Even in that case though nothing is done. Our battalion is all about screwing the lower guys and looking good while doing it. Our commanders from Company to Battalion really don't care about me, or your son. Because if they did, they wouldn't allow such atrocities to happen. Morale in Delta Company has never been this low. It's not even been this low after losing a friend, colleague, and distinguished and loved non commissioned officer.
Allow me to digress. I really didn't want to get into this, as my previous couple of blog posts I was trying to display something different than the constant gripe and complaint that this one is. Perhaps it's the lack of air conditioning that has me in somewhat of rut, or perhaps it's just the fact that I've never been sick to my stomach with the feeling of being failed by others. I'm a go-getter guy that likes to improve my own situation when I'm not at least content with it, so a situation like this one, that is entirely out of my hands, and has left me and my comrades suffering it's really hard.
I barely get enough food to keep me going from the Chow Hall, and am thankful that my loved ones have sent me packages containing tuna and other essential foods that have allowed me to keep going, and not entirely wither away. But even that has been threatened. Our one meal a day consists of rationed half portions of a terribly cooked and burnt meal. That wouldn't be too bad, considering everyone has basically gotten on the send me food in care packages band wagon. There's only two problems now with that set-up. The first is that we get mail seemingly, once a month. Last time we got it here was sometime before the 10th, so that's already at least 16 days ago. The second problem is that we don't own China sets, and don't have the necessary items like plates or silverware that goes along with the preparation of making your own food. This shouldn't be a problem, considering the chow hall has an ample supply of cardboard plates an silverware. It is a problem however in the fact that when it's not 'chow hours' the two from 7-9 everyday, these items are not out, because too many people were using them during non-chow hours. Of course we are douche bag, we're hungry.
Our A/C's have been broken for close to a month, the chow hall continues to hoard food from us, while prosecuting us for trying to eat so I'm hungry. I haven't showered, even after a grueling session of organized platoon exercise, which we stand close enough to each other for one rocket to wipe out our entire platoon, and I don't have weight lifting to look forward too, which would help to alleviate some of my frustration. That leaves me wondering what I do have to look forward too, and that's a hopeful 'possibility.' A number of moves have been made between different decisions that would suggest an early departure from this place. And by this place, I mean country. It doesn't appear it will as drastic as two months, or even tomorrow, but a few weeks early might be all any of us need to keep our sanity. C'mon late October, Karma at this point should be on our side.
look, a buffalo
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