In preparation.
There is really rather a lot I have avoided in the past week or so. I hesitate to discuss issues with the upcoming battles ahead, as the very nature of these Wars is an enigma to me, and I can only imagine how it must seem to those Outside.
And yet, this is my journal, and my life within, so if it comes across as odd or unbelievable, then quit reading.
There are certain things I may never discuss here; the situation with Trinet, for example. That was entirely too painful on every level to address candidly. Not only that, but the time it would take to explain exactly what occurred, and how, is beyond my patience at this point. It is also not something of which I am particularly proud.
Many changes here, as of late. I have organized a recruiting effort, and we have received quite a few, though most are without any military background or experience. We have gone back to addressing one another with our military identification codes, as well. I suppose I should explain that: it was the way Piirek did things. He designated every soldier with an identification code, for two reasons. It was much easier to see a number die than a person, if that makes sense. Also, we do not show rank on our sleeves, or salute one another. We do not wish the Rahkas to differentiate the upper ranks from the cadets. When addressing one another with identification codes, the name and rank are already known. The system works well for us.
One thing I have noticed is how easily I am fitting back into my old role. I remember the trepidation with which I accepted the rank of Battalion Commander years ago. Part of me still feels woefully under-qualified, but then another part rises to the occasion, and knows I am damn good at what I do…so long as I keep my temper under check.
As of now, preparations are underway: I have assigned several to ration and weapons detail, and still others to strategic objectives. I estimate that I have a month left here, though it will likely be less. The Host will take over for me in many aspects, including keeping me updated in regards to the e-mail list to which I currently belong. (It is a support group, of sorts; an excellent group of individuals.) After tossing several choices about, we have decided that she will assume the nickname Dixhuit gave her: Bruyère. She takes issue with others knowing her real name online, and this nickname is unique enough, while still being cryptic, that she can post with ease.
I feel an odd sense of peace. There is a fear, of course, muddled with determination and purpose, but it seems very far away, almost obscured by this peace. Quite nearly a feeling of quiet resignation. I am surrounded by lucidity of what is to come, and I play different scenarios in my mind. I consider myself lucky to have allies Inside, and friends Outside. I daresay this Invasion could have been far worse.
And yet, this is my journal, and my life within, so if it comes across as odd or unbelievable, then quit reading.
There are certain things I may never discuss here; the situation with Trinet, for example. That was entirely too painful on every level to address candidly. Not only that, but the time it would take to explain exactly what occurred, and how, is beyond my patience at this point. It is also not something of which I am particularly proud.
Many changes here, as of late. I have organized a recruiting effort, and we have received quite a few, though most are without any military background or experience. We have gone back to addressing one another with our military identification codes, as well. I suppose I should explain that: it was the way Piirek did things. He designated every soldier with an identification code, for two reasons. It was much easier to see a number die than a person, if that makes sense. Also, we do not show rank on our sleeves, or salute one another. We do not wish the Rahkas to differentiate the upper ranks from the cadets. When addressing one another with identification codes, the name and rank are already known. The system works well for us.
One thing I have noticed is how easily I am fitting back into my old role. I remember the trepidation with which I accepted the rank of Battalion Commander years ago. Part of me still feels woefully under-qualified, but then another part rises to the occasion, and knows I am damn good at what I do…so long as I keep my temper under check.
As of now, preparations are underway: I have assigned several to ration and weapons detail, and still others to strategic objectives. I estimate that I have a month left here, though it will likely be less. The Host will take over for me in many aspects, including keeping me updated in regards to the e-mail list to which I currently belong. (It is a support group, of sorts; an excellent group of individuals.) After tossing several choices about, we have decided that she will assume the nickname Dixhuit gave her: Bruyère. She takes issue with others knowing her real name online, and this nickname is unique enough, while still being cryptic, that she can post with ease.
I feel an odd sense of peace. There is a fear, of course, muddled with determination and purpose, but it seems very far away, almost obscured by this peace. Quite nearly a feeling of quiet resignation. I am surrounded by lucidity of what is to come, and I play different scenarios in my mind. I consider myself lucky to have allies Inside, and friends Outside. I daresay this Invasion could have been far worse.
posted by Logan Nambiet at
11:54 PM
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