At ease…rest. Horseshoe around troops. First Sergeant Moriarti is off chasing bank robbers in Florida, so he called me and asked to fill in to make sure you mouth-breathing malcontents survive the weekend.
Things are heating up (as if it wasn’t already hot as Hell over there) again in Syria…with Israel deciding to shut down every Iranian base that even looked like it was going to throw shade, in the form of missiles, towards Tel Aviv. The confusing mix of allies and enemies over there makes it difficult to choose a side…so DON’T. Leave that political stuff to the politicians and stick to the soldiering side of things.
Don’t do drugs, dude’s wives, dude’s daughters (Meach…this means you), or dude’s dogs.
Don’t drink and drive…that shit ain’t cool.
Roll in fire teams and watch your six.
Control your urges if your urges aren’t something you want to reveal to your mother or a reporter.
PT 0600hrs Monday. Platoon Sergeants…take charge and get them out of my sight!
CSM Dickie, OUT!