Author: George E. Hand IV

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.

As the heavens unleashed their fury, the sight of St. Elmo’s fire cascading from my antenna burned into my memory, a hauntingly beautiful spectacle amid the chaos of the storm.

Where we lay on our backs in this cornfield shoulder to shoulder we grasped our muskets tightly with our hands and held them close to our bodies across our chests. The volume of Union fire just barely above our heads was so great … I contemplated that if I were to extended my finger straight […]