There are few things worse than the rude awakening one finds in the field when its their turn for firewatch. You could be dreaming about any number of wonderful things, all of them far away from where you are in actuality, and find yourself pulled back to cold, hard reality. A Marine stands over you, flashlight in your face… It’s your turn for firewatch.
You sit up, rub your eyes, gather yourself, throw some boots on and pick up your rifle, and meander over to the head of the platoon. You stand there… Trying not to sleep… Watching the soft glow of your watch as you eagerly await your turn to wake someone up…
And thus, the cycle continues.