Folks,

OK, it is another quiet Sunday morning. The skies are overcast and threaten rain but the temp is mild and seasonable. It is the kind of day that one could sit back, sip on a hot cup of coffee, gaze out the window at a flock of little, brown and gray sparrows scrambling about on the ground for their breakfast and imagine a world that is at peace. A world with no pain, suffering or violence.

Yes, the active word is 'imagine'. To my immediate left one of the larger cats is already stalking an unsuspecting little bird. Such feelings of peace and contentment are usually fleeting and perhaps that is best, for there remains so much work left to be done to make that imaginary world a reality. I think back to JFK's inaugural address, where in addition to the "Ask not what your country can do for you...." part everyone remembers, he also mentioned that "...here on earth, God's work must truly be our own." or words to that affect.

All the HWH boys seem to have survived another potentially lethal Saturday night. No actual combat with the enemy was involved. I swear we lose more men to drunken brawls down at the Prince and Polecat than \we do to enemy action. Dux's head is in a pitiful state this morning and C51 is only out of bed before noon because he fell off it during the night. He usually sleeps with one foot propped against the wall to stop the bed spinning and sometimes he forgets which side of the bed the wall is actually on. As for me, I'm fine. I was the designated driver last night. Unfortunately, I was designated as the driver rather late in the festivities and I was given the honor only by default as I was the only man still able to stand at the time....yes, the reason for this apparent miracle is simple. I was restricted to barracks until 18:00 hours and so I got a late start.

After taking the car and its slumbering cargo of drunken fly-boys on an unexpected detour that took us through several thick hedges, over a 20 foot embankment and across the westernmost edge of Farmer Drubbins pig sty, I finally managed to regain the the twisty dirt road that eventually led us back home. Damned heathen. No one even noticed the scenic detour.