Once he threw on his plate carrier and his tactical vest and strapped on his kneepads, Kevin loaded a fresh magazine of 7.62x51 into his rifle and racked the bolt before slipping it back into his gun-bag and holstering his trusty sidearm, a Beretta M9. He was rather confident today was gonna go off without a hitch, but he still remained ever cautious of the present dangers that awaited him on those damned fields. There were talks among the soldiers about the hajis ambushing some of the patrols, and also how Charlie company over in Kabul got smoked by an IED. As many put it, Afghanistan was like Vietnam without trees. You didn't know where the enemy was coming from until they were right on you. Kevin walked out of his tent and back over to the humvee, chuckling heartily at Jax bugging Kenny with some questions, "Shootin' a little low there, eh Lieutenant? Might wanna dope your scope a bit more." He climbed in the back of the vehicle, setting his rifle in front of him and pulling from his shirt pocket under his vest a can of Copenhagen. He took a pinch of the tobacco and shoved it between his gums when one of the soldiers, none he knew of, knocked on the window. "Well shit." He pondered. "Looks like this rodeo's got a dead horse."