12

15-17APR2009

(Kuwait)

Me and K____ have long talks in the evenings, wandering Camp B______ at night, when the temperature is better.
I was concerned about another rumor concerning a Job position in my AO: that SSG D___, a known scumbag and criminal, would be flying in from America to fill it. In another words, all the unit’s money, the actual check book, would fall under D__’s control.
The XO, for the first time I’m sure, confided in me, and asked that I baby sit D___.
I agreed. Later it would turn out that the D____ rumor was just that, rumor. But for one night and a morning it was pressing.
K____ told me that I shouldn’t care anymore.
Hadn’t I learned yet, he asked.
What he was saying seemed very profound to me, like some new revolutionary idea. To be a shitbag and not be shitbag, being a shitbag not making you a shitbag.
To not care, and still take care of yourself. No need to be hard working, no need to be personable. They may imply, insist, demand more, but its all trick.
_Just be happy,_ he said, as we walked to the USO to play ping pong, like we do every night, his words piercing me like an accusation.