I love you, I won't kill you

After about 6 hours of flying, Amanda and two engineering company marines belonging to the 4th Combat Engineer Battalion of the 4th Marine Division landed smoothly and smoothly at Spandahlem Air Force Base in western Germany.

Because when she was in San Diego, she had already completed the preparations for taking photos, medical examinations and many vaccinations before going abroad.So when she arrived in Germany, the only thing she could do was rest.This was the first time in her life that she went abroad, but when she set foot on European soil, she could only stay in the US military base.

While dozing off in the officer's lounge, he was woken up by a lieutenant officer of the Marine Corps, "Hey, second lieutenant, we are leaving."

"Oh, to Kuwait?" Amanda stood up and asked with a military bag.

"Hmm, we need to change planes in Kuwait before we can go to Baghdad." The lieutenant said as he walked.

After another four or five hours of flying, Amanda finally came to Kuwait, which is located in the northwest of the Persian Gulf.At night, the cargo door at the tail of the plane gradually opened, and the marines who had already lined up began to step off the transport plane one after another.

"It's 11:40 p.m. local time in Kuwait. If you're going to Baghdad, you should wait until tomorrow morning." Amanda looked at the piece on her wrist. Compass watch.

When the other officers of the Combat Engineer Battalion walked out of the cabin, a disgusting and dry earthy smell hit the face.Amanda frowned, feeling a little uncomfortable.Although the earthy smell makes people smell disgusting, it is at least more acceptable than the intense heat of the day.

The climate in the desert area has a very large temperature difference between morning and evening, and Kuwait is already chilly at night.Amanda couldn't help pulling the Marine Corps uniform on her body, and followed the others to the hangar rest station on the side of the airport.

At 8 o'clock the next morning, Amanda and others boarded another "Hercules" transport plane again to fly to Baghdad.This transit flight will be her last transit flight before her 7-month overseas service period.

After an unknown amount of time, Amanda, who was sitting next to the cockpit of the transport plane, suddenly heard a voice coming from the cabin loudspeaker, "This is the cockpit, now we will land in combat mode!"

At this time, a sergeant sitting beside her asked curiously, "Sir, are you a pilot of the Air Wing?"

Amanda checked the seat belt strapped to her body again and replied casually, "Yeah, what's the problem?"

"Well, what does this combat mode landing mean?" the sergeant asked.

"Uh, just to tell you not to unbuckle your seat belt no matter what happens for the next few minutes."

"Oh, I see. Even if I want to go to the bathroom, I have to pull it in my pants now."

"Correct. The transport will fly in an evasive mode to avoid a possible air attack."

"Sergeant, didn't you read the flight manual?" Amanda asked again.She wondered why the sergeant of the combat engineer battalion didn't understand the concept of "combat mode landing".

After checking the seat belt on his body, the sergeant said with a smile, "Sir, my 4th Marine Division is a reserve force. My family and I live in a quiet and peaceful town in Louisiana. What about being stationed in Iraq?"

Amanda looked at him, "Yeah, everyone does."

Two minutes later, the pilot's voice came again from the loudspeaker, "Now, start landing in combat mode."

Afterwards, the "Hercules" transport plane began to circle sharply in the air, and everyone sitting in the cabin began to tilt their bodies in one direction.The greater the angle of the tilt, the more Amanda felt that she was back at Pensacola Air Station.

A few minutes later, the transport plane finally landed safely on the runway at Baghdad's airport.After staying at the hangar rest station near the runway for about an hour and a half, everyone boarded the bus and prepared to go to the northern Iraqi city of Fallujah.

Most of the U.S. Marines stationed in Iraq are stationed in the western province of Anbar, including the 1st Marine Expeditionary Brigade and the 3rd Marine Air Wing.The 1st Marine Expeditionary Brigade is headquartered in Fallujah, while the 3rd Air Wing is based at nearby Al Asad airfield.

When the sergeant and other Marines from Louisiana could disband and rest, Amanda was ordered to continue to Assad Airport, west of Fallujah.The distance between the two places was only a few miles, but at this moment she felt that her uniform was drenched with sweat.

Fortunately, the pair of Belleville 550ST Marine Corps special combat boots on her feet can keep her feet dry forever, almost eliminating the need to replace the pair of wolf brown boots and socks that have been worn for several days.

The bus with a lot of dust finally stopped in front of the 3rd Air Wing at Assad Airport.Looking at the mineral water bottle in the Iraqi driver's hand, Amanda swallowed hard and got off the bus with her luggage.

When she came to the office of the Air Wing, Amanda suddenly felt a cool breeze blowing, "Oh, so the office is so cool!" At this moment, a male officer with the rank of lieutenant on his collar came over, " Ensign Amanda McLaren?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you're a Naval Aviation School grad assigned to the 3rd Air Wing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, I have received your admission documents. If there is no problem, sign here."

The lieutenant produced a key and said to Amanda, "Here, here's the key to the barracks locker. Remember, this is not the Naval Aviation School, so you won't have your own room."

Amanda now just wants to find a place that sells mineral water, and said loudly again, "Understood, sir."

"Well, is there anything else you want?"

"Sir, can I send emails or make phone calls here?"

"Yes. However, I suggest that you'd better buy another phone and get a new number."

"Sir, what does this mean?" Amanda asked, resisting her thirst and high temperature.

"The main thing is to prevent terrorists from listening to our phone calls, so as not to leak the operation plan, understand?" the lieutenant explained.

"Understood, sir. Excuse me, when can I start the mission?"

"Tomorrow at 0600:6 ([-] o'clock in the morning, according to the battlefield timing method), report to the office."

From the moment she left the office, Amanda silently said, "Today is July 7th, the first day. From now on, there are 6 days before I go home."

The pilot's barracks of the Aviation Wing are on the east side of the office area, and it only took Amanda 2 minutes to arrive at the pilot's quarters consisting of six barracks.Carrying the luggage, I walked quickly into the last barracks dedicated to female marines.

"Hey, who are you?" asked a white woman in a wolf brown short-sleeved T-shirt, digital camouflage pants, and combat boots.

"Uh, I'm the pilot who reported to the wing today." Amanda looked for her own bed.

"Hello, sir! That bed is your bed." The white woman quickly stood up and saluted, pointing to the bed in the corner of the barracks, and said.

"Thank you, sergeant." After Amanda returned the salute, she walked towards her bed.

"Sir, where are you from?" The white female marine came over and asked Amanda.

"Camp Pendleton." Amanda sat down on the bed, planning to take a good rest.

"Hmm. The pilots assigned to the 3rd Air Wing come from Camp Pendleton and Miramar Air Station," said the white female marine sitting across from her.

"Very comfortable. Well, I'm Ensign Amanda McLaren, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Sergeant Talia Evans."

"What do you think of this place?" Sergeant Evans said, looking at her.

"What? God, this place is several times hotter than San Diego," Amanda exclaimed.

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