Ahhh, a glorious morning. The sea rolls past as we charge ahead at high speed, Thailand lost in foam of our wake. The playful clouds look surprised as we leave them to their aerial games.

I was overtired when I went to bed last night, and was 15 minutes late to work this morning. Whoops. I'm the guy in charge of the shop, so there was no one to yell at me for being tardy. Hmmm. However, I wish to set a good example for my troops, and the embarrassment of looking like an ass is far worse than a tongue-lashing would have been.

We're traveling too fast to launch aircraft, so we've got a couple of days respite to get the aircraft into the best shape we can before we hit Burma. My original estimated transit time was hampered by lack of a decent map close to hand. The Malay Peninsula is longer than I'd recalled, so it'll take some time to get all the way south, pass the Straits of Malacca, and then get back north to the Irrawaddy Delta, which is the worst-hit area of Burma.

The ship is strangely quiet and empty. With all the Harriers and half the helos gone, the flight deck looks forlorn. Half the grunts and their gear went ashore to Thailand, too. Should be short lines in the chow hall! But we're shorthanded in the shop. There's only me and two lance corporals. I don't need more workers, what with the limited number of aircraft to work on. But it seems strange and quiet.

I keep writing words like "quiet", and I find myself face-down on the desk. I wonder if I can contrive to give myself a nap sometime today?

Posted by: Boviate at 08:25 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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