I had my suspicions that this mission was just a ruse. But I was also aware that stir-crazy was on the verge of morphing into just plain crazy and if he didn’t get some outdoor time I might be smothered in my sleep.
The general and I head out into the frozen tundra. We got visuals on some old tracks, but no active signs of life.
The general beat the brush and bank looking for furred or feathered enemies to scare the bejeepers out of, all to no avail. 
About a mile and a half into our mission we came across a suspicious looking ridge in the distance. “Hmm,” I say to the general, “there’s never been a ridge in this area. And there’s no snow on it.” He agrees that it’s odd.
We go into stealth mode to investigate. As we get close we realize we had stumbled upon an entire battalion of enemy troops! (And me still with no gak.)
I don’t know if they were tipped off by jingling dog tags, or a reflection off my spy cam but they suddenly split forces and beat a hasty retreat.
Some went to the other side of the partially frozen river, others remained in the sky.
The general diligently searched the abandoned camp site for clues of their nefarious plans.
“It’s a trap!” I screamed to the general, “They’ve circled back around to flank us. Retreat, retreat!” We hauled ass back to the bunker, barely escaping with our lives.
The general is still on duty, making sure that none of those dirty birds followed our tracks back to the safe house. “Ruse indeed,” he snorts as I meekly go about my duties.
