Dispatch From the Field

There are few things more fearsome or effective than an American soldier arrayed in full battle uniform, humanity obscured by various gadgets and weapons, vaguely futuristic in appearance, and bristling with anonymous malevolence. Living with the infantry in the field reveals that the soldiers behind the intimidating facade are barely more than teenagers. The younger soldiers' superiors, the non-commissioned officers, are usually sophomoric 20-somethings who derive enormous amounts entertainment from the antics of the 19 year olds they supervise. I estimate that 95% of infantry soldiers below the E-4 pay grade cannot drink legally in America. Even the senior enlisted soldiers tend to be in their early to mid-thirties or younger. I even lost some of my awe of the company XO when I realized he was younger than I was.
By no means does the youth of my colleagues make me feel superior in any way. I know next to nothing about the military, about the infantry, and especially medicine. Lately, I haven't even been able to initiate IV's, in my opinion one of the most important skills a medic needs to get the confidence of the soldiers he works with. I am really overwhelmed by the amount of responsibility given to me and how little I really know about what I am doing.
I had fun getting dirty with the "Joes" this field problem. I even participated in several raids, much to the discomfort of a nearby aviation brigade. I test fired a 50 caliber machine gun before a mission that involved loading the gun on the back of a civilian cargo truck and unleashing the weapon "A-Team" style on the hapless gate guards. I assure you that the expressions on their faces were priceless.
I am going to cut this post short as I need to clean my gear and sleep.