The peacetime Army has a little thing called a Field Problem. If they called it a camping trip you'd get the wrong idea. It is a grueling, intensive exercise that makes the regular rounds of barracks cleaning and ranges and inspections and PT something to look forward to.
My last regular Army field problem was in drizzling rain. The first night was 50% security, which meant that out of the four hours left before dawn after we'd set up camp, only two were spent sleeping. We'd dug deep foxholes in the stone-strewn earth and covered them with wet foliage and I slept in full uniform, leaning against one muddy wall with my boots in the cold water slowly filling our hole.
Eventually things eased off a little and I had a little time to read a paperback I'd stuck in one of the large pockets the Army so kindly provides. I've forgotten what it was, but the gist of it was the characters were slogging through a wet, dark, depressing world for most of the pages.
The drizzle tapered away to let in a little light and warmth at almost the same moment; the characters and I climbed out of our dark and muddy holes together.
I collapsed at work Friday (collapsed is a little strong a word; I felt weak and lay down on the floor for about an hour until I felt strong enough to drive myself home.) Saturday, I was almost too weak to limp across the street for milk. It got bad enough I gave up on the desk and computer and unfolded my futon.
And in the latest book on my reading list, the protagonist got herself poisoned. She was getting weaker by the chapter while I was lying in bed reading with a perfectly good Saturday going to waste outside.
More or less around the same hour, she found her cure and I felt at last the warmth of normal circulation returning and the weakness beginning to ebb.
Well, not completely. I doubt I'll be doing any long-distance running tonight, or even tomorrow. At the moment I'm just about recovered enough to draft a couple quick blog entries.
But the rain is over. At least for now.
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