The Colonel is not Irish, his accent makes that quite clear, but was a tourist on a holiday with his son, another military man, as they traced their Irish heritage like so many Americans do. He looks up with a nod, no smile, just a nod that the Sergeant has completed the mission.
His son joins them before he has a chance to speak. His face is covered in black wet ash, which he’d smeared onto his skin as a type of improvised camo.
The other local soldiers had tried to imitate him in his movements and tactics but their training ended years previously and were taking time to get back up to speed. He was showing them all he could though, he depended on them as much as they did on him. He speaks after a greeting to the Sergeant, his voice quiet but