Saigon.

Shit.

I'm still only in Saigon.

Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle.

When I was home after my first tour, it was worse.

I'd wake up, and there'd be nothing.

I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to a divorce.

When I was here, I wanted to be there.

When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle.

I'm here a week now.

Waiting for a mission.

Getting softer.

Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker.

And every minute Charlie squats in the bush,

he gets stronger.

Each time I looked around, the walls moved in a little tighter.

Everyone gets everything he wants.

I wanted a mission.

And for my sins, they gave me one.

Brought it up to me like room service.