George E. Hand IV

As for the Rangerettes getting special treatment during the course—no. As for special treatment prior to the course, I have to say yes.

Matt was more than a Ranger; he was the embodiment of quiet strength and unshakeable courage, the kind of man you’d follow into the darkest corners of hell knowing he’d lead you back out again.

He was a man of quiet strength and unfathomable skill, yet the silence between us in those final years echoed louder than any words we ever spoke.

I was born to carry a rifle, to run ahead of the pack, and return with more than I started with, because that’s what it means to be all grown up in the world of professional soldiers.

And in that moment, as I staggered through the chaotic market with my mismatched attire and a belly full of couscous, I realized that sometimes survival in a foreign land is less about blending in and more about embracing the absurdity of your own existence.

In the midst of my grimy, sun-baked adventure through Fez, squatting by a rank canal to wash my battle-worn towel, I cut a fine figure of a man—a disheveled, bearded mess in ripped sleeves and sandals, puffing on a camel poo cigarette, and navigating the wretched beauty of a country that both fascinated and wrenched my soul.

Stiffing a nine-year-old guide and handing a kid my sweat-soaked “Runs with Scissors” T-shirt in lieu of payment, I found myself seething and shirtless, contemplating the karma of my actions amidst the labyrinthine alleys of Fez.

I awoke in my drab dormitory, missing the fez I had once swapped for a cab fare, only to be plunged into a surreal adventure through the labyrinthine Medina of Fez, guided by an ever-shifting cast of characters who seemed as lost as I was in a seething cauldron of chaos.

In the heart of Sarajevo’s war-ravaged streets, I shared a dubious cup of tea with Ivan, who, amid the rubble and ruin, clung fiercely to his pride and humanity.

Sleep teases me like a phantom, ever elusive, whispering promises it never keeps, leaving me tangled in the torment of endless, dreamless nights.

“Atomic Blonde” is a high-octane, neon-lit rollercoaster ride through Cold War Berlin that packs a punch with Charlize Theron’s brutal and seductive portrayal of a top-tier British spy, making even the most jaded action fans sit up and take notice.

Geo sends us on a heart-pounding journey through a tempestuous sea, where every wave and storm brings a new challenge, yet the unyielding spirit of camaraderie and resilience shines brightly amidst the chaos.