[h2][center][color=fff200]THANH PHAM[/color][/center][/h2][hr]
It was pretty natural for Thanh. Talking to Aleyev was indeed very relaxing and entertaining. He was probably the only fellow he could talk to so naturally. Possibly because how both of us had seen what we all desired not to see, but had to see. Of course, Thanh was no veteran, being only twenty years of age, but at least he had seen combat, he had experienced losses, blood and horrors. He didn't want to go out and berate other people, especially arrogant youngsters who were so full of themselves, but he could not speak so well with them than with someone who understands him.

After the experimental gear review, the room was then assigned. For the first time Thanh had heard the details of the entire Squad's name. Russians were the majority, followed by Germans, who were no doubts defectors. Other interesting nationalities he could register were Norways, French,...Snd as he had expected, no Asian, it appeared. If there were, it might be that Naomi something. She, maybe she, was certainly not Russian, might be Japanese, but the surname might have been American or British. Hopefully it's the latter, because although the Vietnamese had no problems being friends with Japanese, the fact that they killed his mother left him cautious when approaching these traditional people. 

Another name caught his attention: his roommate. The name screamed that she was female, and was a Russian. Thanh was a little bit reluctant to share a room with a woman, but in war, convenience would surely be tossed into the trash bin, and the young Asian did not really have the drive for romance. He was too busy fighting for it. 

Everybody was then busy settling in their respective room. The same could be said for Thanh, as he made a beeline towards his quarter. His pace quickened, his posture straight. Opening his room's door, he had noticed that his roommate was not here yet. That meant that he had all the honors to choose his own bed. Well, that was if he had any distinguisable choices anyway. The two beds were the same, blessed with an old, almost rotten mattress, and there was a single bedside table, shared between them. On it, two bowls of cold soup were placed. 

[color=fff200]"It is heaven..."[/color]

Certainly not for some nobles who knew nothing but luxuries, but for this young fellow who was born a lowly commoner in Hanoi, it was something unimaginable. Thanh lied down relaxingly, the softness of the bed eased all the pain produced from all his scars and injuries. He could feel the ground flee before me, as if he was carried into the sky. Oh dear God, life was so good...