[ WP ] Write a soldier 's journal entry on his first day at war . Then write his last journal entry .

***Day 1*** 
 
 *I'll be keeping this journal throughout my tour. To keep my sanity or to have something to look back on in old age, I'm not sure. Keeps me occupied though, and for that I'm thankful. Afghanistan was, shall I say, different. Different from what I expected, that is. Stepping out of the Sikorsky that dropped us off in our base god-knows how close to the nearest populated area, I assumed it would be hot and calm. No such luck... The dry wind hit me in the face, causing me to do a sort of involuntary twitch, much to the amusement of Terry and David. The rest of the day's sunlit hours went by pretty fast and without incident, aside from a small scuffle outside the mess hall that I observed while walking to the barracks to situate the tiny amount of personal items I had brought with me. We were introduced to base commander Colonel Fabiano, and then I was sent to meet my unit chief. He was nice enough, if not a bit too easy going at first glance. There was something in his eyes though, that unmistakable edge that let you know this man was stone-cold in combat. I felt instantly more at ease knowing I would be under his command. Heh, look at me going off about my CO. Terry finds this he'll call me a queer and tell everyone in the base who would listen. Anyways, we've got lights out in 15. So, um, good night journal, I guess. * 
 
 ***Day 42*** 
 
 *Did n't think it'd end this way. Cornered in a cave like some fucking animal. They're all dead. Lowsky, Victors, Sarge, Henderson, Escona, Terry. Terry... Poor bastard never knew what hit him. Walking next to me laughing one moment, crumpled on the ground with a.50 cal hole in his chest the next. Before we could react 30 of those camel-fuckers ran out and fired on us. 2 minutes, rest of my unit was dead. I got shot twice, lucky fucking me. Got myself to this cave somehow before my useless legs gave out on me. Nothing to do but wait for my death and scribble in this notebook. They're outside, I can hear them, but have n't checked the cave yet. Got ta finish quick. If somebody finds this journal, please send it to my wife and son. Sem-* 
 
 The ageing sergeant closed the little leather-bound book as the turbulence outside the airplane caused the whole construction to shake slightly. He looked at the coffins, draped with the American flag, that lay before him. He looked back at the quickly vanishing unforgiving Afghan desert through a window. 
 
 A single tear rolled down his cheek. 

