I'm hungry already. I've had the same pair of pants on for a month and they're crusty: dried mud, spilled C-ration grease, and Eltee's blood. Either the trousers stretched or I have lost weight because the pants fit a lot better when I got them; I have to wear a belt made of shoelaces to keep them up. I keep the bottoms tied off just above the boots so river leeches can't sneak in, and to prevent the pants legs from snagging on stuff along the trail. Above where the legs are tied off, the utes are torn, and though I covered the tear with Army OD tape it is beginning to come loose.
I'm tempted to eat my peaches and pound cake but instead I munch on cookies out of the B-2 unit. They taste like rocks. Peacock is staring at a beat-to-s**t book that he never turns a page in. His face is full o
