Field Commission 15

Wicked smile, RSM says, "party time, youse is all invited."
I raise an eyebrow, "think we're a bit too pooped to party."
"Be over right quick."
In the gathering gloom, we drive to Andy's Town, slang for Andersontown. I'm shocked at the number of bodies on the street.
The force dismounts. RSM takes a mike, "I know we agreed to a lottery draw, but I am suggesting a change. Now I ask you, who other than the Yanks shot down lotsa planes?"
Cries of "nobody."
"I say we give them the honor of leading off. All in favor?"
Cheers.
"Further, there's two Yanks who deserve first and second place. First place goes to the Lt. Who else has ever shot down a plane with a single shot? Don't for even one minute believe it was fluky. Article in Stars and Stripes on her, all time highest score on the hologram range."
Cheers.
"Second place, and not far behind, Corp here drew first blood, downed one all by herself. One of the choppers got that on vid."
More cheers.
We hear choppers, rapidly getting louder. No one has to explain, I know exactly what's happening.
RSM grins, "this is from the very top. See if mosta those bodies were adults, we'd take prisoners. Number of children dead, no way, no one gets out alive."
I nod, feel the same myself. The night sky lights up as napalm flares.
First out is on fire, I simply blow him away. Seconds later, Parvana blows hers away.
RSM smiles, "come, take you to the field kitchen."
She walks us in the back door and we collect our cig ration.
"So," cook smiles, "what'll it be?"
I reply, "the British Army breakfast fry stands head and shoulders above the American version. But, guess it's too late for that?"
Cheerful tone, "you are thinking ordinary mess rules. Field kitchen, anything, any hour of the 24. So, how you want it?"
"Slice the sausages in half lengthwise please, like em crisp. Eggs poached, brown toast."
"Want hash browns? French fries? Both?"
"Hash browns."
"Sure, help yourself to tea from the urn."
Parvana asks, "do field kitchens do Australian breakfasts?"
"Indeed we do, how you want it?"
"Medium rare, sunny side, hash browns and fries, white toast."
"Sure, you want me to make you some green tea?"
Parvana smiles, "very kind of you."
At the condiment rack, American strawberry and raspberry jam, two marmelades: orange only and 3 fruit (orange, lemon, grapefruit). I select 3 fruit.
As we await food, Parvana says tiredly, "could sleep a night and day. Feel so gross, it'll take two showers."
I nod.
Food comes. Parvana gets a 16 ounce steak that would be almost the equal of the Texas Grill chain back home. No one is that good. Three eggs, four slices of toast and an immense mountain of fries and hash browns.
I get two sausages, cut into four halves, two bacon, ham, three eggs and four toast.
She spreads a half inch thickness of marmelade on a toast, "these Brits sure know how to live."
"I'll say. Robertson's, been around thousands of years."
We eat in companionable silence, then make the fifty yard trek to they mobile showers. Then to the rail car reserved for us, lotta buildings, including ours have been destroyed.
We have orders, rest up, New Years Eve will be big.
For 24 hours, our force, mostly sleeps, eats, takes several showers.
As penny poker games start, it's a sign. People have pulled back from the edge, more life in them.