The stage is Afghanistan. Its crazy hot and my platoon and I just got inserted by a C-130 in this bowl area in the Mtns to establish a C130 airstrip. We hunker down for a couple days until more forces arrive. Popi fields everywhere as we set up a perimeter and begin to dig in as Marines do. Soon after an hour or so we begin breaking E-tools (lil shovels) and we do the best we can to build fox holes.
The best part is that we had a small crapper behind our lines. As time went on the crapper grew closer to the airstrip and as time continue to grow, a young hard charger Lt was utilizing the crapper. Enjoying what little time he had to himself…well as much as possible in the middle of the open range in a foreign country. Sun shining and collecting his thoughts, I see it. I nudge my Company 1stSgt, he gets a big grin on his face as the Lts back is to us. Its not a moon, is a plane, a big C130 spiraling down doing a combat approach to our primitive zone. The Lt has no idea its coming. Singing to himself looking through his Maximum magazine as he get use to his new Afghani crapper and then holy American flying technology comes from no where and hovers above the runway for a quarter mile then touches down and spewing brown flour like dust all over. The unsuspected coyote, I mean Lt hears the rumble and stands and turns with drawers still down just in time for the wing to pass by him lessthan 50 yards away. The Lt shows his Marine pilots his appreciation on one hand just as the TP flys away and the Lt disappears in the C130 cloud Omess. …… I think we kept laughing at the Lt for an hour as he walked out of the cloud and was virtually brown from dirt, thank goodness. Ohh the good Ol times.