Snow City Published Dec. 7, 2009 By Senior Airman Daryl Knee 90th Missile Wing Public Affairs F.E. WARREN AIR FORCE BASE, Wyo. -- Snow. Cold, hard, damn snow. The chill of it takes away even the pleasure of my cigarette. I flick the used stick into the white killer and watch as the flame disappears into the night. A night like this? A night like this, I should be home sleeping away the troubles of the week in bed next to a beautiful lady. Heh. The thought doesn't kill the headache the whiskey's bringing and the heartburn I know this job is going to cause. I get into the vehicle. Excerpt from the journal of a Snow City plower. "It's expected," said Airman 1st Class Michael Hillard, 90th Civil Engineer Squadron's horizontal flight. "It's not like I hear people say, 'Man, I'm glad those guys are out there plowing at 2 in the morning.'" But, they are. In fact, the sometimes nicknamed Dirt Boy shop has teams working throughout the entire day to rid Warren of the hazardous snow, he said. The teams use may different machines to accomplish this: trucks with a de-icing spray, tractors with blades edging the road and sanders shooting a grainy, salt-like chemical to help with traction. The multiple-ton vehicle operators are dispatched to the priority roads when the weather turns ill, Airman Hillard said. Priority roads, or the well-traveled roads, require immediate attention to ensure no accidents occur. Another lousy night in this godforsaken city. I'm driving like there's no tomorrow. For all I know, there isn't I'm hitting the snow harder than I should, and I know it. Let me die; no one would even know. No. Hold on, old man. The city ... she needs you. She'll take care of you. This city ... my city. Excerpt from the journal of a Snow City plower. "I never thought, growing up, that I'd be doing something like this," Airman Hillard said. "You know, you see those children playing with Tonka Trucks, but I never thought I'd be working with the real ones." He pushes a lever, and the plow shifts directions in the front of the vehicle. With a tap of a button, the engine pulls into reverse. Back up, pull the lever, push the button, go forward. Another strip of a parking lot is free of snow. "When you work with something for so long, you get to know the machine by heart," Airman Hillard said. Done, and I'm dead tired. I don't sleep though. There'll be time enough tomorrow to lay my head down. I'm off to enjoy the sights of my city. After all, the roads are safe now. Thanks to one old man's struggle. We're all safe. Excerpt from the journal of a Snow City plower.