"And the Lieutenant's all weepy and shit. Fucking frathouse pussy." Meesh picks up the beast and follows the LT back to their trucks, all excited and giving eyebrows about the goat. Fawcett asks him what the old random guy said, and Meesh is all, "He's afraid we're going to bomb his village tonight. Meanwhile, can you believe the LT turned down an entire goat?" Meesh admits that the rations situation has him a bit hungrier than usual. They load up and the gunner's like, "You take the fur off before you eat it, right?"
Riding back to camp, the LT is finding it difficult to admit the total uselessness of the airstrike and all the bullshittery that occasioned it. He starts by saying that there was "some indication of Iraqi armor operating in the area," but slim evidence on which to base a BDA. Patterson asks if what he means to say is that there's no destroyed armor in the area. "At this time, not specifically," he says, which almost makes Patterson laugh. "Interrogative: have you found any nonspecific destroyed Iraqi armor?" He and Barrett grin at each other, and the LT gives a quiet negative. "Assassin Two, have you found any destroyed targets, military or civilian?" No, finally: "We turned a lot of dirt. Over." Patterson hangs up and stares at Barrett, amazed. "Eleven thousand pounds of ordinance dropped, and we didn't hit any armor." Barrett nods. "We didn't destroy any villages though either. Guess that sort of goes in the win column, right?"
Everybody's filling their ranger graves, sterilizing the position as best they can, loading up. Ray lugs a shovel over to Brad and starts filling in holes. Brad's sitting with his shirt off, gloriously ridiculous 2000 AD tattoo out for the world to see, brushing his teeth. Ray spots the chaplain coming over and his voice fills with dread. "Oh no. Christ-lover at my nine." Brad's like, great, we gotta deal with this now too. "Men. I'm holding a service and I wonder if you would take comfort in pausing for a word of prayer." Ray thanks him kindly, but says they've gotten the warning order for the next mission -- that's the first step, the warning order, and then all the planning goes down, and then you go do the thing -- and can't spare a moment. "Looks like we're going to be moving out to kill a whole bunch more of these godless heathens for you." Chaplain gives him a look and a uh-huh, and Ray nods sadly. "Yeah, but don't worry. We will not rest until the Iraqi threat to your way of worship has been completely neutralized." The Chaplain knows damn well about the warning order, that's why he's calling everybody together. Brad is absolutely giddy, loving this whole interaction, because he knows Ray's going to ride the guy into the sunset. "Oh, the other thing. The other thing is that my team leader here, Sergeant Colbert? Yeah, he was born a Hebrew, and remains a practicing Christ-killer. So it's purely out of respect for him I feel as if I'm going to have to forgo your festive rituals." The chaplain is none too impressed. Ray and Brad get all funny and flirty about how awesome Ray is, and the chaplain moves on to One Bravo. Espera tells him to back off, because they're gearing up, but Christopher (I think) asks permission to join the service. Espera lets him go with the chaplain, muttering about how there's one in every crowd.