"Chaos, this is Godfather. Be advised, we have seized the enemy airfield. Early reports are we've captured several enemy tanks and self-propelled triple-a batteries. It appears that we've overrun the entire 255th Mechanized Regiment, who have fled. And sir? [self-aggrandizing drama queen pause] We've sustained zero casualties." He almost cries at Mattis's approval, and takes off. Evan looks up, asking Godfather if the Brits are coming. "No," he says proudly. "We scrubbed their mission. We got here first." Godfather, you have become a perfect buffoon. Brad admits quietly to his team that, vanishing Others or no, they just seized an enemy airfield, which is pretty fucking ninja. Ray laughs and Brad smiles wide.
In a scene intended to viscerally show us that keeping your shoes on for weeks at a time is both horrifying and required by the USMC in this circumstance, Doc deals with Chaffin's feet. But you know who's not dealing with Chaffin's feet? This guy. Next.
Nate calls in the team leaders and tells them they're so far ahead of RCT-1, they can chill for a good 24 hours before they show up. They have to keep 50% watch just in case this area they have no idea or intel about and which moments ago contained 4000 Republican Guard guys turns out to be dangerous. Pappy asks if they've discussed destroying the weapons and ordnance on the base, and Nate gives that deadpan thing he's so good at: "Actually, that did come up. But it seems the Battalion's supply of C-4 is now unaccounted for. The Battalion supply truck we left last night, it is a smoldering heap of twisted metal and failed hopes in the trustworthiness of the Iraqis we are striving so hard to liberate." Face is like, "Huh?" and Nate secretly rolls his eyes, deep inside himself where nobody can see. "It means we're on one meal a day."
Ray lounges under a big cammy-net setup, waxing smartassical and being totally cool and funny. Walt and Garza are openly loving it, but Brad's smiling a very secret, very huge smile while he rants. "I'm just saying I'm surprised is all, Brad. I mean, aren't you surprised? I'm betting that they were thinking that they could just, you know, leave a fully-loaded supply truck laying around, just like you could anywhere in America, you know? I mean, you park your unlocked car in Detroit or Baltimore, I mean, your shit's gonna be there guaranteed when you get back from the day spa with your skin all exfoliated and shit, right? I mean seriously, homes, why would our Iraqi brethren want 400 pounds of C-4, claymores and crates of M-16s? I mean, it just doesn't make any sense. Or wait, you know, they could be using all that C-4 for, like, a giant Fourth of July celebration." Cutely: "What do you think, Brad?" Still grinning, Brad tells him it's time to shut up.