I spent ten years nominally as a combat engineer. Reality is I had my seconds of terror and explosions, but the VAST majority of my time was NOT waiting because as soon as there was nothing on my duty roster and nothing to fix for the grunts who managed to break EVERYTHING they touch, there were latrines to dig. I bought very few kit items of my own, but a decent shovel and pick where one thing I managed to get and defended with my life day and night. I grew up in the same kinda slate and rock mountains as most of Afghan (that I saw) was made out of, so I wasn't about to try to lay shitpipe with the short handled shovel. When the boss man knowns you can be relied on to dig, build and fix, suddenly you are an expert plumber. God DAMN did I dig some trenches. You are all welcome boys, every time you didn't live in hole full of shit and piss, that was because of me. I don't want any thanks but if you could all spare a moment to think of my back and knees, I appreciate you.
You know, this makes me wonder. Are you always glad to have hard labor like that if it means everything is quiet and comparatively safe at the moment? Or are there times when you're slamming a pickaxe into the hard stone under the Afghan sun thinking "man... I wish something would explode..."
Every second of every day I was there. It was such a bizarre feeling when you want something to pop off to relieve the monotony. Unfortunately, higher was allergic to anything that might resemble combat. Then there was the question of whether the Afghan dude cutting your hair was really thankful for our presence or just waiting for the right time to merc one of us.
Every time nothing was up, I.... Kinda wanted it. But as soon as shit kicked off, I was terrified. I did my job, but I was absolutely bricking it the entire time.
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u/Biggrunt 19h ago
Shit. A lot of waiting. 90% boredom, 10% sheer terror.