Waking up as I did left me really no choices but to push the envelope and keep drinking. A few hands of spades on the lawn of a friends house and I was set to go out again. Or eat. Instead of either of those I helped drop someone off at the barracks.
Nothing about the night was noteworthy, nothing worth writing about, except the strange Jaeger bomb moment at a bar. Six of us deploying, lined up in a single rank, being forced to do pushups after drinking. And the prize for doing so? A Jaeger bomb at the bottom, one we drank with hands and feet on the ground. Body held parallel.
Patriotism in no way questioned. Alcoholism though…
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