Green men

Hard times are bearable with the right people and some complaints.

Above us, the sun was merciless out there in the field. The heat pressed down on us, slowing our movement, our thinking and our will to move. Who wants to move anywhere in this weather? I just want to stay at my position, manning my station.

I closed the armour plated door from the inside, threw my mud-caked backpack onto the floor and retreated into a tiny space barely long enough for me to stretch my legs. I pulled my legs close to me as a ray of sunlight let in by the clear, thick bulletproof peek window touches me and I felt the heat on my knees. Looks like someone stabbed through the small opening with a sword made of..light.

I came prepared for this. Or so I thought. I bought usb powered fans and a power bank which by my calculation should provide me 24 hours of running fan time. But my tiny fan offered slight comfort against the Sun. I fashioned a string out of a pair of ear plugs I found and hung the fan infront of me and it just blew hot air back at me. I was pissed

What...the...hell...am..i..doing.out...here. I asked the question out loud, hoping an answer would justified such situation. I thought through the standard answers; training to defend our land, our people but these answers gave no satisfaction or motivation at that time. Perhaps I should just shut up and endure and not ask anyone including myself any questions. All high noon will end, the sun will eventually set. I took a look at my trusty casio watch, it was only 12.15pm. Maybe about 3pm then the weather would be better.