Mail Call!

Bossman and SSG C went out to look at something this morning, so that left SGT B and me on mail detail.

Sometimes we ignore the mail ritual and let the little HHC gnomes schlepp our stuff back through to their headquarters, but this morning we thought we'd join our teammates in the spirit of up too early doing stuff, and, after an awful attempt at what passes for breakfast here, we lurked outside the mail conex to be offer our help.



That's four days worth of mail. This is where it gets fun. We hopped in (much to the confusion of the mail guys - "why are there two sergeants helping us?") and joined the chain passing boxes out and stacking them.

"Alpha! Alpha! Bravo! HHC! Alpha! K-9!"

You don't know how many weird little subunits you have until you start making piles.



It starts small, but you schlepp packages and packages...and then you get to the rear of the conex and start coming back toward the door on the other side...



As the piles grow, people start showing up and sub-sorting. Because, hey, if you're with Second Platoon, Alpha, you're sure not schlepping mail for those Third Platoon bastards.



We made it to the end of the conex, gathered up the stuff for our team, and loaded it into a handy plastic footlocker the Bossman had shipped in. We were preparing to lug it back to our area when a little karma tapped us on the shoulder.

"You guys want to just throw that in our Gator?" A civilian worker grinned. "It's no problem."



Hooah, not dragging boxes through gravel. That's a win, kids.