Always, I prepare for war.

I carry my life on my back. Sleeping bag. Poncho. Food. Water. Body armor. Helmet. Rifle. Ammunition. Tobacco. The essentials.

We're called grunts because of the sound we make when we put our packs on our backs. We live up to our name.

We wake up at nautical twilight, it's cold, but we do not get to choose our weather. We are tired and sore. Our feet and shoulders hurt. It's time to go to work. We are grunts. We live up to our name.

It's not so exciting, this life. Not often, anyways. We walk. We sit and watch nothing. We shoot. We train and train and train some more. Always, we prepare for war.

My rifle is an extension of myself. I must know my rifle. I must keep it clean. For without my rifle, I am useless. It must not fail at the moment of truth. Always, I prepare for war.

I hold no hate in my heart. I would just as soon live and let live as I would kill. I love humanity, but I hold no illusions that there are those who would do me and those I love harm. I do not pray for war, but always, I prepare for war.

I am scared. I prepare to kill or be killed. It weighs heavily on my heart. No one forced me to be here, yet here I am. Preparing for war.

I am not political. I do not wish to kill others in their homeland, but I do not get to pick my battles. That is for the politicians to decide. I am the wolf who keeps the other wolves from the door.

Yes, we have not had to defend our homeland since the Aleutian Island campaign of World War 2. That is because we are strong and others dare not attack us. We are the wolves who keep the other wolves from the door.

I am a grunt. Always, I prepare for war.