Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Hi everyone,

This letter is going to be a short one. Why, you ask? Because for the first time since I've been writing my little narratives of life in El Salvador, there really isn't a lot going on. The air base has turned into a ghost town. Our bustling little tent metropolis has been reduced to just under 200 citizens. Well, now as I type, I'm beginning to remember a few things that have occurred in the past couple of days...

There was a fire tonight. The entire air base is surrounded by a fifteen foot tall burm topped with Concertina wire. I don't know why Concertina is capitalized...it must be my crazy shift finger. But I digress. On the outside of the burm, something caught fire. Probably something important like the grass. It only rains about 5 cm a month in January, so its pretty dry. Its also very common for the grass to catch fire. That's what the Salvadorian LT told the US COL. But that didn't stop the COL from activating the Q-ORF. He assembled the Quick OverReaction Force in record time by sending many highly trained US soldiers over the burm armed with shovels and fire extinguishers. They arrived jsut in time to see the Salvadorian Fire Department put out the fire. Horray! Another victory won against the perils of the mundane world.

I slept until 10:00 this morning. That would be a total of 12 consecutive hours of sleep last night. I also taught myself how to play hearts this afternoon on the computer. I can now finish the game in third place, consistently. Just wanted you all to know that your tax dollars are being well spent.

Remember those neat little poems we al had to write in elementary school? The Haiku. I always thought they were the dumbest poems I've ever read. But that was then. I still think they're a bit hokey, but hey, they're fun to write. So fun in fact, that I've written six of them for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy.

My cot is not soft
But the ground is much harder.
I will not complain.

The showers are cold
And the water is not pure
But it still cleans me.

My razor is dull
And my face burns when I shave.
I'm still a soldier.

MREs taste bad,
But out there the children starve.
My food is now theirs.

I miss my warm home.
The people here live in shacks.
Thank God for my life.

Our clothes are dusty,
But I know we have done Good.
My smile is real.

Goodnight everyone. Don't forget how fortunate we all are.

Love,
Kurt