The sweat beads pooled together around the edges of my helmet's inner layer, unable to escape due to the tight fitting. Some managed to drip their way down my cheek, turning green by the camouflage cream before gathering into a small puddle of green sweat inside my chin guard. Yuck.
In prone position, my breathing was shallow and quick, The LPV was uncomfortably tight, clinging on to me like a second heavy,bulky skin. My arms ached from the lactic acid built up, keeping the rifle straight was no easy walk in the park.
I can't afford to make any adjustment to ease the discomfort. The principles of concealment taught earlier says to "suck thumb and endure", my civilian mind says "why the fuck am proning down in a jungle, training for a war long overdue and most probably not happening in my lifetime".
I let out a barely audible sigh at the exhausting argument I had within my head. Resigned to fate, might as well go through the motion.
lessons will be taught and forgotten,
time will continue to come and pass.
tough or slack, time does not discriminate.
endure, endure is the only way.
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