Like drowned rats

I’ve come to understand an interesting phenomenon. While the insurgents around here often seem undeterred by bullets and brute force, they apparently aren’t big fans of rain. It’s like their kryptonite. The camp will be mortared several times for days. They’ll shoot at passing military vehicles in the middle of the afternoon, and will plant IED’s (improvised explosive devises) only a few hundred meters from our gates. But once the clouds open up with a good thunderstorm…nothing. I guess terrorism is more like Little League Baseball than I realized; a good downpour and they call the game. I don’t think it rains here often, but when it does the whole place turns straight from desert to swamp. We’re not dealing with the sand you find on U.S. beaches. This stuff is like talcum powder. Just add water and you get more mud than you’ve ever seen. I guess “suicide bomber Bob” doesn’t mind getting into a fire fight but he doesn’t want to be cold and wet during the process. It’s all fine by me. Where I’m from it rains most of the year and I’m used to getting drenched nearly every time I walk outside. So whether he wants to stay home and out of trouble so I can get some rest or spend the night out in the dark plotting while he freezes his ass off it makes no difference to me.