The Crew of White Two
My gunner, an aspiring artist, has drawn the crew of my vehicle on the windshield in cartoon characters.
The driver of “White Two” is depicted as an armored Knight, plume on helm, and “Death by Steel” hand lettered on his breastplate.
My Interpreter is drawn in a ski mask and Kevlar helmet, “The Interpretator,” purpously mispelled, and hand lettered beneath a toothy smiling face.
The drawing of my RTO is actually an incredibly good likeness of the soldier. He has tears leaking out of his eyes, and two radio hand-mikes held to his ears. Beneath his tragic face is his nickname, “Bottom.”
Being the lowest ranking soldier in the Company, he ranks at the very “Bottom.”
Desperate to clarify the nickname, my RTO has modified the artists drawing, scrawling in a careful parenthesis: “(not the gay kind).”
As if we needed the clarification.
The Gunner of “White Two” has a fanciful impression of himself. He has drawn a roughly bearded Rambo, grinning maniacally with a knife clenched between his teeth.
And finally, my gunner has drawn his impression of me.
A masked Darth Vader glares back at me, clutching a light saber.