Tuesday, 17 November 2009


Dear Mama,

The year is drawing to a close. I know, I know. I can't believe we're still in this bottomless hellhole mommy. The General said we'd be out by June, June rolled into August, now we are in November and he's talking Christmas at the latest. Our tour of duty expired on February and the President is about to act on a proposal to send in more young men and women. “Is it that there are no graves is America that we are sent to die here?”- ok, that's from Charlton Heston's The Ten Commandments but you get the point.

I miss you mommy, hows Timmy, how's he doin' in school, he should work hard and turn around his report card you know. Bet he's grown all big, and tall and hairy faced with his voice breakin' and all. Just watch his grades for me alright.

How's daddy, he!he!he! guess the senior soldier had a Veterans day to remember huh! gul ol' gun tottin' geezer.

Naaaah! Well, I giss we too had our own little thing over here in the Green Zone, the tents strictly no punch, keepin' up with local shoobla doobla dwoink dwoink sensitivities thing but didn' stop us from having one helluva Veterans day.

Was a break from routine though. Green Zone's intel's tight but our Commanders figured a little watching over our shoulders here, our M16's there wouldn't hurt anyone. But nobody wanted to do the 'handy dandy' pantsy job while everybody else was having a good time so they settled on some local police.

It's okay, it's okay don't freak out mommy and don't tell Pops either; he's got a heart to watch you know. These were the loyal and trusted types, much like the English. They didn't blow our asses off. See, am fiiiiine.

Ya know what one mommy, am all upbeat now. Ya know what two, I forgit how mi bed looks like. After so many years sleeping in those darn stuffy sleeping bags, sipping on green Afghani tea to to kill the chill, I gotta request you tag me some pixs of my bed on my Myspace and Facebook profiles mommy.

Havin't forgotten my bedroom though, no chance. Mi know me sleepin' digs like the back-o-ma hand bitc..sorry. Though far from home, your bubbly Bambi Bumble Bee chibbidy libbidy pumpkin-pie kin still remember the 'ambience and serenity of thine S-a-n-c-t-u-a-r-y'.

Knobbly door knob, I liked the feel of it in ma palms; c-c-c-lutching it and rotating it in a counter-anticlockwise manner before pussyfooting in, peeping left, then right, then left again with mi finger pointed like a revolver, jus' to make sure all was clear.

Only fools rush in where a Private fears to tread.

..wait..what door knob opens in a counter-clockwise direction? I knew it, I knew there was something suspect about that door knob.

And that life size picture om my bedroom wall of our Commander in Chief, his Excellency President George W. Bush. Don't see him on Fox TV much these days. Just his Vice president Burrock O'Bammer. If I were him, should be careful about layin' low for too long even if ya ain't a popular Pre-z-dent . Them dark dude might just take over.

I know you might think my job has made me paranoid but Believe me ma, i spent junior high summer camp in the south with them kids from school. I knows them schemers.

Jus' hope he will come out and say we comin' home for thanksgiving. I miss home cooked turkey mommy and.... mommy, I jus' wanna come home!![weeps like a big baby].

Your's Son,

Private Ryan

Kenyan Blogs Webring Member

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