Heading West

Preparations are underway for the big adventure in Sandy Eggo this week.

Maps are being compiled and studied in detail.

The troops are moving to their jump off points.

The logistics folks are preparing the supply train.

The cavalry are charging about the landscape wearing out their horses, trying the patience of the locals and causing good men everywhere to hide their daughters.

Not to mention putting a significant dent in the local supply of eau de vie. And anything else potable with a kick!

The artillerymen are preparing their limbers, guns and horses in their usual, no nonsense, workmanlike fashion. 

And the infantry are marching through the mud, mocking the horsemen, swearing at the artillery limbers forcing them into the ditches beside the roads and generally bitching about anything and everything.

Why?

They're infantry.

All await the command of...

Uh, that would be me.

In reality all I have to do is get to the airport on time Tuesday to make my flight.

All that other stuff?

It's what I like to call "artistic license."