But everything else is square-I’m wearing a MultiCam uniform, desert tan combat boots, and a radio on my shoulder. Next to everyone else’s commando-style AR-15s, my Ruger Mini-14 with a wood stock is slightly out of place. Unlike the others, I don’t view southern Arizona as a war zone, so I didn’t put steel plates in my chest rig. “Keep your weapons nice and tight,” Captain Pain orders. I crawl out of the back of the pickup with my rifle in hand. Sign up for the free Mother Jones newsletter. Get a daily recap of the facts that matter.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |