I've been better

Slogging along the road as snow is falling I'm dead. Dead. I have to force myself to breathe -- in and out of the ceramic powered armor that keeps my legs falling in front of one another. Somebody asks me a question and I blather nonsense back at them. I have to sleep.
The Betty picks me up by my harness and throws me into a ditch on the side of the road that our column was trudging across. Just then I heard it. The witch was screaming at me to get down and finally my betty heard the incoming drones — flechettes chewed up the road, chewed up the three marines I was with, nicked Dave the cat in his left ear while the witch gathered him up and put the kitty under her cloak.
In the meantime a 500-pound android lies on top of me while the drones come back for another strafing run.

All I want to do is sleep. I hate this planet. Mud is actually a season here. The crap falls from mud clouds.