Once upon a time, I had a great job...

The part I want to highlight was that after an operation or training exercise or a day of fun at the range, I would get to clean my weapon. It was that kind of job. Lots of uniforms and lots of weapons and ammunition. But when you got back to base, barracks, security - you started cleaning everything and accounting for all missing, in-operational and incomplete equipment. I could whip through a rifle and pistol, magazines, backpack, rucksack, radio, and stuff one hangs on all over. Oil, wipe it off, reassemble, do function check, and have someone inspect it and get it to bed. Tracks and trucks the same way, the tubes and tanks, and the helicopters and other aircraft had even longer recovery maintenance. No sleep until it was ready to go out again... what no sleep! Nope. Never know when the SHTF moment is going to strike.

I liked knowing that by the time my comrades in arms were ready for their own sleep or recovery time, they would be without a care. Then they would get off to home, rack, washing the laundry, writing or calling important people that they wanted to touch... but couldn't.

That clean up and preparing for the next operation or attack or recovery is never in those movies about what one has done during the day. It is boring, but needed for the next time. I am now out of that job, long out, and don't have to clean my rifle (don't call it a weapon, you might scare the neighbors) until I am ready. Of my position, I treat my tools better than I did when the government was providing the opportunities to use them, and I have only a shadow of the anti-gun goofs plotting to take all my weapons away. I am sure once they get the firearms they will be back for the knives and the bows, then the different chemical compounds. I just don't have enough years left to think it matters as much as they think. I will concern myself more over manners, values, smiles of folks and pleasing God Almighty. Still, I will clean my weapons, until the next time.