Monday, December 26, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
You Knew It All Along
I will post more journal entries soon, but I wanted to give a brief update to those back in the world. We're chilling out a bit until the National Elections are over. Hopefully we will see the vast majority of the population get out and vote, which would be a huge step in the right direction.
Let me say this outright. We (the U.S.) are doing good things here. Don't let anyone or any entity say otherwise.
There was a report today on MSNBC about new IEDs that are more dangerous than previous types, which is substantial because IEDs are the #1 killer of US troops on the ground here. However the report made the issue sound like it was a huge problem that needed to be solved immediately, when in reality this couldn't be farther from the truth. Everyone that is concerned with the current US-Iraq issue needs to understand the media bias. I always knew it was there, but it really didn't become painfully aparent until I sat down to eat my cocoa puffs this morning for breakfast. The Media is seriously always looking to stir up shit, so keep this in mind when (or if) you try to analyze what is going on. When I was in ROTC, there was this older Lieutenant Colonel who was wise beyond his years. 'Never believe the first story', he would often say when we discussed things in class. This advice definitely holds true now.
Let me say this outright. We (the U.S.) are doing good things here. Don't let anyone or any entity say otherwise.
There was a report today on MSNBC about new IEDs that are more dangerous than previous types, which is substantial because IEDs are the #1 killer of US troops on the ground here. However the report made the issue sound like it was a huge problem that needed to be solved immediately, when in reality this couldn't be farther from the truth. Everyone that is concerned with the current US-Iraq issue needs to understand the media bias. I always knew it was there, but it really didn't become painfully aparent until I sat down to eat my cocoa puffs this morning for breakfast. The Media is seriously always looking to stir up shit, so keep this in mind when (or if) you try to analyze what is going on. When I was in ROTC, there was this older Lieutenant Colonel who was wise beyond his years. 'Never believe the first story', he would often say when we discussed things in class. This advice definitely holds true now.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Thought for the Day
"There comes a time in your life when you realize who really matters, who never did, and who always will."
Thanks goes to Tamara for the quote. Nowhere is this quote more true than in a combat zone. It applies to most facets of our [Soldiers] lives, simply due to the nature of our situation. It's impossible to understand if you've never been there, 12,000 miles away from the rest of your life. Some will stick by you, and others will fade away.
Dad, if you're reading this, I understand very clearly now what you were talking about before when we discussed this subject. We'll have quite a bit to discuss when I get back. Cheers.
Thanks goes to Tamara for the quote. Nowhere is this quote more true than in a combat zone. It applies to most facets of our [Soldiers] lives, simply due to the nature of our situation. It's impossible to understand if you've never been there, 12,000 miles away from the rest of your life. Some will stick by you, and others will fade away.
Dad, if you're reading this, I understand very clearly now what you were talking about before when we discussed this subject. We'll have quite a bit to discuss when I get back. Cheers.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
You Pump, I'll Pour
November 28th, 2005-
My first impression of the situation my unit is now involving ourselves in (in Iraq) is that we're showing up to the house party at 2:30am and the keg is almost empty. Despite this, the unit that has been charged with our train-up is informing us that there is a 99% chance that we'll get shot at, RPG'ed, or hit with an IED. I'm mentally preparing myself now for the particular time it happens to my convoy. I still wonder how I'll really react when the Elephant finally shows itself.
My first impression of the situation my unit is now involving ourselves in (in Iraq) is that we're showing up to the house party at 2:30am and the keg is almost empty. Despite this, the unit that has been charged with our train-up is informing us that there is a 99% chance that we'll get shot at, RPG'ed, or hit with an IED. I'm mentally preparing myself now for the particular time it happens to my convoy. I still wonder how I'll really react when the Elephant finally shows itself.
This Old [Crack]House
November 26th, 2005-
When you're overseas living and working in a third-world country, living accomodations can be pretty important. Hell, they're important in any locale for that matter. My platoon has been assigned quarters pretty far away from the main Company Building. The other line platoons and the HQ platoon are all housed at the main building, while my platoon has been set off in a set of much smaller buildings. In a sense, it's almost like I've been given my own platoon. Since we're physically set away my Platoon Sergeant and I have more control of how things run. This is a rare setup- platoons almost always operate under strict company or battery control, and if they are detached a senior Lieutenant would be in charge. However, here I am, the most junior officer in the battalion, with a highly autonomous platoon operation in a combat zone. I'm psyched and hesitant at the same time. With greated freedom and control comes greater responsibility, and I haven't necessarily learned all the Platoon Leader ropes yet.
Let me get to the other interesting part, the actual buildings were housed in. The FOB we're at is divided into several areas, with our particular area being lovingly nicknamed the 'Crack Houses' by the soldiers. The two buildings that the soldiers sleep in are residential-type houses most likely left over from before the first Gulf War. They were in really rough shape when we first moved in. Thanks to some Soldier 'Field Expedient' engineering and elbow grease, the two houses are now roughly liveable. They still probably break every fire code ever written in the United States, but Iraqi architecture probably does in general anyway. The term 'fixer-upper' has never been more appropriate. Now that I think about it, my bedroom closet back home is about the same size as my room is now. However, my platoon has their own set of showers and washing machines. We even have a gym that I swear was used in one of the *Rocky* movies when he fought that Russian guy. 'Eye of the Tiger' runs through my head when I go lift. Now if it would only snow here.
When you're overseas living and working in a third-world country, living accomodations can be pretty important. Hell, they're important in any locale for that matter. My platoon has been assigned quarters pretty far away from the main Company Building. The other line platoons and the HQ platoon are all housed at the main building, while my platoon has been set off in a set of much smaller buildings. In a sense, it's almost like I've been given my own platoon. Since we're physically set away my Platoon Sergeant and I have more control of how things run. This is a rare setup- platoons almost always operate under strict company or battery control, and if they are detached a senior Lieutenant would be in charge. However, here I am, the most junior officer in the battalion, with a highly autonomous platoon operation in a combat zone. I'm psyched and hesitant at the same time. With greated freedom and control comes greater responsibility, and I haven't necessarily learned all the Platoon Leader ropes yet.
Let me get to the other interesting part, the actual buildings were housed in. The FOB we're at is divided into several areas, with our particular area being lovingly nicknamed the 'Crack Houses' by the soldiers. The two buildings that the soldiers sleep in are residential-type houses most likely left over from before the first Gulf War. They were in really rough shape when we first moved in. Thanks to some Soldier 'Field Expedient' engineering and elbow grease, the two houses are now roughly liveable. They still probably break every fire code ever written in the United States, but Iraqi architecture probably does in general anyway. The term 'fixer-upper' has never been more appropriate. Now that I think about it, my bedroom closet back home is about the same size as my room is now. However, my platoon has their own set of showers and washing machines. We even have a gym that I swear was used in one of the *Rocky* movies when he fought that Russian guy. 'Eye of the Tiger' runs through my head when I go lift. Now if it would only snow here.
Give Thanks
November 24th, 2005-
Thanksgiving Day. Up until my Platoon Sergeant and I had Thanksgiving Dinner at 1900, I hadn't eaten since lunch the day prior. Not a huge deal, but sometimes you don't realize how hungry you are until you smell food. We got 'up North' to the FOB at about 3 in the morning, and I stayed up (except for the hour nap I took in the afternoon) the entire next day until about 0230 in the morning on the third day. I waited a couple hours just to make a few phone calls home, as every soldier on the FOB wanted to do the exact same thing. I can't say I blame them.
Thanksgiving Day. Up until my Platoon Sergeant and I had Thanksgiving Dinner at 1900, I hadn't eaten since lunch the day prior. Not a huge deal, but sometimes you don't realize how hungry you are until you smell food. We got 'up North' to the FOB at about 3 in the morning, and I stayed up (except for the hour nap I took in the afternoon) the entire next day until about 0230 in the morning on the third day. I waited a couple hours just to make a few phone calls home, as every soldier on the FOB wanted to do the exact same thing. I can't say I blame them.
Road Warrior
November 21st, 2005-
Sitting in the turret of the 5-ton truck, I call commands to the four armored humvees trailing behind me over the radio. PFC Tony is my wheelman.
"Right here is good." I yell through the big hole cut in the armored cab of the truck.
PFC Tony takes the six-wheeled truck over to the side of the dirt road. I adjust my goggles and put the black handmike up to my ear. At the gunner's position I can better observe what my 1st section soldiers are doing than through the armored glass of the cab.
"Gun 5 is set," I say over the radio. The humvees begin movement along the dirt road in a simulated convoy formation, the type we'll use up north in Iraq.
Sitting in the turret of the 5-ton truck, I call commands to the four armored humvees trailing behind me over the radio. PFC Tony is my wheelman.
"Right here is good." I yell through the big hole cut in the armored cab of the truck.
PFC Tony takes the six-wheeled truck over to the side of the dirt road. I adjust my goggles and put the black handmike up to my ear. At the gunner's position I can better observe what my 1st section soldiers are doing than through the armored glass of the cab.
"Gun 5 is set," I say over the radio. The humvees begin movement along the dirt road in a simulated convoy formation, the type we'll use up north in Iraq.
Get in the Truck
November 20th, 2005-
Back into the Humvees.
The previous night my Platoon Sergeant and I stayed up putting together the operations order that we both briefed today. This is the same stuff I learned as a cadet, just without much of the 'simulated' stuff we used to do. I'm the Convoy Commander tomorrow, responsible for [double digits] vehicles tomorrow. The reaction to IEDs or small arms attacks will be largely my decision. (I will learn later on though that in reality, the decisions largely fall to the Truck/Vehicle Commander. The Convoy Commander has too much to worry about to be directing each individual vehicle in a convoy that might be miles long.)
Today is not a day 'off' because I am still at work. However today is the first day in a month or so that I haven't had a billion things to do. The Operations Order is done, and my subordinates know what they need to get done. Here I sit [not many] miles from the Iraqi border in the Kuwaiti desert. Less than a year ago I was worrying about College finals and having the 'last hurrah' with college parties before it was time to go serve in the Army. Now I'm responsible for myself and the lives of 35 other men, many of whom are several (or many) years my senior. I hear jokes from the Second Platoon Sergeant if I am old enough to smoke the Cigar I am currently puffing on. I wonder if the impending situation has dawned on any of us yet. I don't think it has, even for those who have been here before. I've written previously about the 'Warrior Mindset', and whether or not it exists within myself and those around me. I still debate whether or not I truely have it, but I think I can see it in others. There are examples of it here, but also glaring absences of it. Some individuals are naturally not cut out for this line or work, and some excel. I think the true warriors will shine through when it is finally time to see the elephant.
1600 hours-
The Humvee is going about 65 miles an hour down something that used to resemble a dirt road.
They must have taken the govenor off this thing, because you'd can't usually go this fast. A crazy old tanker turned instructor sits next to me at the wheel. He turns to me and cracks a smile that is missing a few teeth.
"Fast enough for ya, LT?"
I respond with a hearty, "Yeah", wondering how many times this thing will flip if Grandpa hits a berm wrong. Let's remember I jump out of planes for a living.
1740 hours-
Guys from my platoon sit inside our tent arguing over the better NFL Quarterback. I sit off to the side, cleaning my M4 carbine. I don't really get how you can argue over something this pointless. It's alright, as long as it keeps them entertained while we're still out here 'training'. That reminds me, I dated a girl in college named after a quarterback. She was named after Jim Kelley. No, her name wasn't Jim.
Back into the Humvees.
The previous night my Platoon Sergeant and I stayed up putting together the operations order that we both briefed today. This is the same stuff I learned as a cadet, just without much of the 'simulated' stuff we used to do. I'm the Convoy Commander tomorrow, responsible for [double digits] vehicles tomorrow. The reaction to IEDs or small arms attacks will be largely my decision. (I will learn later on though that in reality, the decisions largely fall to the Truck/Vehicle Commander. The Convoy Commander has too much to worry about to be directing each individual vehicle in a convoy that might be miles long.)
Today is not a day 'off' because I am still at work. However today is the first day in a month or so that I haven't had a billion things to do. The Operations Order is done, and my subordinates know what they need to get done. Here I sit [not many] miles from the Iraqi border in the Kuwaiti desert. Less than a year ago I was worrying about College finals and having the 'last hurrah' with college parties before it was time to go serve in the Army. Now I'm responsible for myself and the lives of 35 other men, many of whom are several (or many) years my senior. I hear jokes from the Second Platoon Sergeant if I am old enough to smoke the Cigar I am currently puffing on. I wonder if the impending situation has dawned on any of us yet. I don't think it has, even for those who have been here before. I've written previously about the 'Warrior Mindset', and whether or not it exists within myself and those around me. I still debate whether or not I truely have it, but I think I can see it in others. There are examples of it here, but also glaring absences of it. Some individuals are naturally not cut out for this line or work, and some excel. I think the true warriors will shine through when it is finally time to see the elephant.
1600 hours-
The Humvee is going about 65 miles an hour down something that used to resemble a dirt road.
They must have taken the govenor off this thing, because you'd can't usually go this fast. A crazy old tanker turned instructor sits next to me at the wheel. He turns to me and cracks a smile that is missing a few teeth.
"Fast enough for ya, LT?"
I respond with a hearty, "Yeah", wondering how many times this thing will flip if Grandpa hits a berm wrong. Let's remember I jump out of planes for a living.
1740 hours-
Guys from my platoon sit inside our tent arguing over the better NFL Quarterback. I sit off to the side, cleaning my M4 carbine. I don't really get how you can argue over something this pointless. It's alright, as long as it keeps them entertained while we're still out here 'training'. That reminds me, I dated a girl in college named after a quarterback. She was named after Jim Kelley. No, her name wasn't Jim.
Transition Continued
November 19th, 2005-
Happy Birthday Erin. Hopefully I'll be there for the next one.
I'm shivering in my DCUs and body armor, but hopefully the sun will come out soon. I don't really worry about the cold, instead I worry about the silouette 25 meters in front of me. Methodically I go through the steps: weapon up, weapon off safe, sight picture, trigger squeeze, sight picture, squeeze the trigger, weapon on safe, weapon down.We repeat the steps over and over, trying to build muscle memory. The actual process takes maybe a second and a half. I'm the second man in the four-man stack, moving laterally across the small arms range. We engage targets as we move across, simulating a city street or other linear engagement area we someday might find ourselves on. The lead man calls out targets, all four of us engage them. I feel the muzzle blast of the man behind me as we both pop off rounds at the target. For the first time in a while, I get goosebumps as my tan desert boots kick up the Kuwaiti sand. Wow, I'm actually having fun.
Happy Birthday Erin. Hopefully I'll be there for the next one.
I'm shivering in my DCUs and body armor, but hopefully the sun will come out soon. I don't really worry about the cold, instead I worry about the silouette 25 meters in front of me. Methodically I go through the steps: weapon up, weapon off safe, sight picture, trigger squeeze, sight picture, squeeze the trigger, weapon on safe, weapon down.We repeat the steps over and over, trying to build muscle memory. The actual process takes maybe a second and a half. I'm the second man in the four-man stack, moving laterally across the small arms range. We engage targets as we move across, simulating a city street or other linear engagement area we someday might find ourselves on. The lead man calls out targets, all four of us engage them. I feel the muzzle blast of the man behind me as we both pop off rounds at the target. For the first time in a while, I get goosebumps as my tan desert boots kick up the Kuwaiti sand. Wow, I'm actually having fun.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Transition
November 13th, 2005- I talked to a soldier in our unit about why we are here in the middle east. My argument ultimately came down to the fact that we are making an investment here, knowing that there will be returns (of many types) in the future. I had solidified my own reasons for being here a long time ago, but also realized in the course of the evening that I am indeed making an investment in myself. I had to come and see what things were really like here- I had to come and be a part of history while there was history to be made, at least for the time being. I'm here to learn how to be a leader, because higher leadership can't be tought doing trust falls. I'm here to learn skills that cannot be learned in a classroom. I'm here to make some kind of difference. Perhaps this is why I had such an easy time explaining things to him. When politics evolve (or digress, depending on how one analyzes the situation) into military action, the 'why' part is already old news. 'Why' will always be a factor, but it will have a different role. Thus it is important to know why you are there, and not why we are there. The two are rarely the same.
I got to talk to mom and dad for the first time today, and had the luck to take a hot shower. My how the little things make a huge difference. We had a brief tonight concerning IEDs that I had sat through probably ten or eleven times in different various forms. I was disinterested enough to start daydreaming a bit, thinking about different times and places. Despite what people may say to you, sometimes you wonder if anyone really knows you're gone.
November 14th, 2005- We went to another range and did Zeros and Qualification with our M16s and M4s. It seems to me like that's all Kuwait is- one long ass range sitting upon a load of crude oil. We also did some Close Quarter Battle training, which is a refreshing change from the 'old style' of military marksmanship. Instead of training to pick off swarms of Soviet Infantrymen rushing through Eastern Europe, we train to bring our weapons up quickly and engage targets without necessarily using our iron sights. The goal is to develop muscle memory. I think that the soldiers had fun during the CQB stuff, but were pissed that we spent the day doing yet another qualification range.
Before we took off I sat and wondered if Iraq will change me all that much. We'll see.
November 15th, 2005- The days seem to run together. There aren't really days with names anymore, but rather each 24 hour period has been reduced to a number on a calendar. I used the calendar feature on my Ipod to check what day it is. Tuesday. Live Monday night football was on in the gym this morning when the LTs went to work out. It's kinda weird when you see that for the first time. I was focusing on my workout, thus I forgot who won. We're in the gym lifting to help us with our job and stay alive. Professional Football seems kinda trivial at the moment.
November 16th, 2005- Camp B (name changed due to OPSEC) isn't that much fun. It has turned into quite the military mecca since our unit arrived a few days ago. It takes much longer to get through the chow line and to use the phones. A random Captain said there were many thousands of troops coming through here in the next few weeks, which has been pretty obvious. I don't really like hanging out with National Guard units here, but they do serve as a reminder that our own unit isn't as jacked up as we previously thought. (Definitely not a blanket bash on the National Guard, as I have seen some squared away Guardsmen and Reservists) Being in-country affords one either way too much or not nearly enough time to think about things back home. You wonder about the coulda-woulda-shoulda types of things, mostly because you have no control over such things here. Oh yeah, it started raining last night. If there weren't enough issues keeping equipment and clothes clean (not to mention ourselves) now sand and dirt is turning into mud. The desert sucks, lets just get that fact out of the way right now. For the most part, rain sucks too (learned that during my last 'vacation' to Georgia). Rain in your tent which is in the desert really sucks. I am interested to see how everyone fatigues over the next few weeks and months. I wonder about myself too.
November 17th, 2005- The 25 passenger Toyota buses units use to move Soldiers around the base and Kuwait in general look a lot like 'The Mystery Machine' from Scooby-Doo. They've been affectionately nicknamed Scooby-Doo buses (or simply Scooby-Doo) by the Soldiers here, including the ones from my own unit. Today I sat in the last row of one being flung (literally) from one seat to another as the bus propelled itself over sand berms and through huge dips in the road. Six Flags has nothing on the Scooby-Doo bus. Today we moved temporarily from Camp B out to a training site, which was out in the middle of the Kuwaiti desert. We're scheduled to do additional Convoy and Gun Truck training before ultimately moving up to Iraq. It kind of feels like the months spent at Bragg training to run convoys was a waste, and that we need yet more help in getting our preverbial crap together. The Army thinks we need another week of training to top everything. Honestly I shouldn't be complaining, as we're happy to receive any additional training that might help us peform better and keep everyone alive. As good as it is, being out here seems like another week or two spent rotting in the desert, no matter how good the training is.
I got to talk to mom and dad for the first time today, and had the luck to take a hot shower. My how the little things make a huge difference. We had a brief tonight concerning IEDs that I had sat through probably ten or eleven times in different various forms. I was disinterested enough to start daydreaming a bit, thinking about different times and places. Despite what people may say to you, sometimes you wonder if anyone really knows you're gone.
November 14th, 2005- We went to another range and did Zeros and Qualification with our M16s and M4s. It seems to me like that's all Kuwait is- one long ass range sitting upon a load of crude oil. We also did some Close Quarter Battle training, which is a refreshing change from the 'old style' of military marksmanship. Instead of training to pick off swarms of Soviet Infantrymen rushing through Eastern Europe, we train to bring our weapons up quickly and engage targets without necessarily using our iron sights. The goal is to develop muscle memory. I think that the soldiers had fun during the CQB stuff, but were pissed that we spent the day doing yet another qualification range.
Before we took off I sat and wondered if Iraq will change me all that much. We'll see.
November 15th, 2005- The days seem to run together. There aren't really days with names anymore, but rather each 24 hour period has been reduced to a number on a calendar. I used the calendar feature on my Ipod to check what day it is. Tuesday. Live Monday night football was on in the gym this morning when the LTs went to work out. It's kinda weird when you see that for the first time. I was focusing on my workout, thus I forgot who won. We're in the gym lifting to help us with our job and stay alive. Professional Football seems kinda trivial at the moment.
November 16th, 2005- Camp B (name changed due to OPSEC) isn't that much fun. It has turned into quite the military mecca since our unit arrived a few days ago. It takes much longer to get through the chow line and to use the phones. A random Captain said there were many thousands of troops coming through here in the next few weeks, which has been pretty obvious. I don't really like hanging out with National Guard units here, but they do serve as a reminder that our own unit isn't as jacked up as we previously thought. (Definitely not a blanket bash on the National Guard, as I have seen some squared away Guardsmen and Reservists) Being in-country affords one either way too much or not nearly enough time to think about things back home. You wonder about the coulda-woulda-shoulda types of things, mostly because you have no control over such things here. Oh yeah, it started raining last night. If there weren't enough issues keeping equipment and clothes clean (not to mention ourselves) now sand and dirt is turning into mud. The desert sucks, lets just get that fact out of the way right now. For the most part, rain sucks too (learned that during my last 'vacation' to Georgia). Rain in your tent which is in the desert really sucks. I am interested to see how everyone fatigues over the next few weeks and months. I wonder about myself too.
November 17th, 2005- The 25 passenger Toyota buses units use to move Soldiers around the base and Kuwait in general look a lot like 'The Mystery Machine' from Scooby-Doo. They've been affectionately nicknamed Scooby-Doo buses (or simply Scooby-Doo) by the Soldiers here, including the ones from my own unit. Today I sat in the last row of one being flung (literally) from one seat to another as the bus propelled itself over sand berms and through huge dips in the road. Six Flags has nothing on the Scooby-Doo bus. Today we moved temporarily from Camp B out to a training site, which was out in the middle of the Kuwaiti desert. We're scheduled to do additional Convoy and Gun Truck training before ultimately moving up to Iraq. It kind of feels like the months spent at Bragg training to run convoys was a waste, and that we need yet more help in getting our preverbial crap together. The Army thinks we need another week of training to top everything. Honestly I shouldn't be complaining, as we're happy to receive any additional training that might help us peform better and keep everyone alive. As good as it is, being out here seems like another week or two spent rotting in the desert, no matter how good the training is.
Monday, November 28, 2005
The Beginning
My journal from the first few days of deployment. Beware, it is unedited.
Monday, November 7th- I spent the last night in the United States sleeping on the floor of my empty apartment. The day before I hung out by a small lake on the outskirts of Fort Bragg with a buddy and his wife. I'm not sure if it was the right way to spend the day, as I had a load of things I still needed to do and I was seriously rushed this morning. Oh well.
Tuesday, November 8th- Our civilian airliner left Pope Air Force Base at roughly 0440. It was a fairly comfortable aircraft, save for the rear echelon motherfuckers (REMFs) that hogged all the business class seats on OUR aircraft. I will not allow a bunch of fucking non-combat privates to take seats that belong to hard-working troops that have seen the elephant ever again. We stopped for a a few hours in Germany, drank some coffee and tea, then left for Kuwait.
November 10th- "Fuck you." I'm not sure what ellicited that somewhat sarcastic response from my mouth, but I remember I said it very eloquently as I took another puff of my cigar. LT K chuckled quietly, then took another puff of his own cigar. Tonight we actually had some free time to hang out and pretend not to be in charge of this whole complicated operation for 20 minutes. I decide that when I go on Rest and Relaxation Leave I will go somewhere that encourages drinking. I'm not sure what spurred this thought, but it seems like a good idea at the moment.
November 11th- "Go find me some [M]203 targets. I want some cool-ass shit!" -The CO
Myself and another Lieutenant drove around the Camp today searching for objects that would make good grenade launcher and machine gun targets. Items found (and pilfered) included sinks, toilets, doors, traffic cones, and one large water heater. It's not a good idea to tell two vindictive LTs to go find things to shoot with heavy weapons and leave it at that. Because we *will* find stuff, regardless of the situation. We had enough M249 (light machine gun) rounds to nearly saw the water heater in half. It was a pretty good day. In Kuwait we use Mitsubishi Monteros (called a 'Pajero' here) instead of Humvees. That's fine with me, as now we have stereos in the vehicles and Kuwaiti radio really isn't all that bad. Cheers.
Monday, November 7th- I spent the last night in the United States sleeping on the floor of my empty apartment. The day before I hung out by a small lake on the outskirts of Fort Bragg with a buddy and his wife. I'm not sure if it was the right way to spend the day, as I had a load of things I still needed to do and I was seriously rushed this morning. Oh well.
Tuesday, November 8th- Our civilian airliner left Pope Air Force Base at roughly 0440. It was a fairly comfortable aircraft, save for the rear echelon motherfuckers (REMFs) that hogged all the business class seats on OUR aircraft. I will not allow a bunch of fucking non-combat privates to take seats that belong to hard-working troops that have seen the elephant ever again. We stopped for a a few hours in Germany, drank some coffee and tea, then left for Kuwait.
November 10th- "Fuck you." I'm not sure what ellicited that somewhat sarcastic response from my mouth, but I remember I said it very eloquently as I took another puff of my cigar. LT K chuckled quietly, then took another puff of his own cigar. Tonight we actually had some free time to hang out and pretend not to be in charge of this whole complicated operation for 20 minutes. I decide that when I go on Rest and Relaxation Leave I will go somewhere that encourages drinking. I'm not sure what spurred this thought, but it seems like a good idea at the moment.
November 11th- "Go find me some [M]203 targets. I want some cool-ass shit!" -The CO
Myself and another Lieutenant drove around the Camp today searching for objects that would make good grenade launcher and machine gun targets. Items found (and pilfered) included sinks, toilets, doors, traffic cones, and one large water heater. It's not a good idea to tell two vindictive LTs to go find things to shoot with heavy weapons and leave it at that. Because we *will* find stuff, regardless of the situation. We had enough M249 (light machine gun) rounds to nearly saw the water heater in half. It was a pretty good day. In Kuwait we use Mitsubishi Monteros (called a 'Pajero' here) instead of Humvees. That's fine with me, as now we have stereos in the vehicles and Kuwaiti radio really isn't all that bad. Cheers.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Wherever You Go, There You Are.
Or in my case, here I am. I want everyone to know that I've made it successfully to Iraq, and the overall things are fine. Kuwait was pretty boring apart from a week straight of training out in the middle of the desert. I can't and won't be too specific about things, but I've been sleeping a lot less and trying to do as much as I can to get my soldiers ready for upcoming missions.
I've been keeping a daily journal of everything going on, and will post all non-sensitive items from it as soon as I have a chance. We've got a lot more internet access now, and I happen to have stumbled on a way to post more frequently by accident. I'll also send out an email to everyone I've gotten an address from in the past few months. I will say that the dust is no joke here, and it's playing hell with the lungs of myself and my soldiers. I've got a lot of interesting stories to tell, and will post updates on how things are going from my point of view. Either way, stay tuned.
I've been keeping a daily journal of everything going on, and will post all non-sensitive items from it as soon as I have a chance. We've got a lot more internet access now, and I happen to have stumbled on a way to post more frequently by accident. I'll also send out an email to everyone I've gotten an address from in the past few months. I will say that the dust is no joke here, and it's playing hell with the lungs of myself and my soldiers. I've got a lot of interesting stories to tell, and will post updates on how things are going from my point of view. Either way, stay tuned.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Article
This is an article that I wrote for the Fort Bragg newspaper a while back. Names and specifics have been changed to protect the vigilant.
_______________________________________________
_______________________________________________
By LT Taylor
An FMTV rolled up from behind the disabled HMMWV, providing left flank security with its big M-2 .50 cal. machine gun. The gunner behind the ‘Ma Deuce’ scanned the horizon along the halted convoy’s most vulnerable side. Two crewmen from other vehicles rushed out to attach recovery equipment from the disabled humvee to the vehicle directly to its front.
“Incoming fire,
In July, Bravo *****, ************* ******************* conducted live fire convoy operations at Range ** as part of their pre-deployment training. “We’ve visited Range ** ****** times in the past six months, as it is one of the largest driving ranges on
The unit will not be firing their ************* when they deploy in the fall. The *********** will trade their howitzers for armored trucks and serve as convoy security elements. Vehicle recovery at Range ** was one drill that included actions on enemy contact and reacting to blocked ambushes. Bravo
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Rules
Through the grapevine I came upon a set of 'rules' that some grunts had put together. In light of my own pending departure to the sandbox I'm posting the rules that I feel especially relevent. If you or someone you know is the original author please let me know so the credit can go to the right place.
5. If it can go wrong, it will.
10. Always have a backup plan. Have a back up plan for that.
11. There is no such thing as 'friendly' fire.
12. Mortars do whistle, you just have to be close enough to hear them. They make a distinct sound when they land.
14. The friendships forged here are to the death.
15. You can't get along with anyone for a year, especially when you live in the same room with people.
18. Fool-proof plans aren't.
19. Even if you plan for everything, 'they' will come up with at least one new trick.
21. The 'kindler-gentler' Army is a crock of shit.
22. If you count on someone, they will more than likely let you down.
26. If doesn't matter if you are a nice guy or not, you will be taken advantage of.
28. The greatest invention was the laptop computer. The second greatest was headphones.
29. You can do everything right and still die.
30. Don't trust anyone except yourself, and be wary of him.
35. You will hear every story that a buddy has to tell, twice.
42. Sometimes shooting first and asking questions later isn't a bad idea.
53. 'Jody' calls aren't just a part of running. You will learn that a buddy's wife or girlfriend left him. You will listen to his pain, you will sample the rage, and you will feel the hate.
54. Soldiers will always bitch about everything.
55. It doesn't matter how bad 'their' aim is, they will get lucky eventually.
5. If it can go wrong, it will.
10. Always have a backup plan. Have a back up plan for that.
11. There is no such thing as 'friendly' fire.
12. Mortars do whistle, you just have to be close enough to hear them. They make a distinct sound when they land.
14. The friendships forged here are to the death.
15. You can't get along with anyone for a year, especially when you live in the same room with people.
18. Fool-proof plans aren't.
19. Even if you plan for everything, 'they' will come up with at least one new trick.
21. The 'kindler-gentler' Army is a crock of shit.
22. If you count on someone, they will more than likely let you down.
26. If doesn't matter if you are a nice guy or not, you will be taken advantage of.
28. The greatest invention was the laptop computer. The second greatest was headphones.
29. You can do everything right and still die.
30. Don't trust anyone except yourself, and be wary of him.
35. You will hear every story that a buddy has to tell, twice.
42. Sometimes shooting first and asking questions later isn't a bad idea.
53. 'Jody' calls aren't just a part of running. You will learn that a buddy's wife or girlfriend left him. You will listen to his pain, you will sample the rage, and you will feel the hate.
54. Soldiers will always bitch about everything.
55. It doesn't matter how bad 'their' aim is, they will get lucky eventually.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Number Nine
Wednesday, October 5th.
Today we had the last jump we're going to experience for a long time. The wind was high, and the Air Force was about as decisive as Rosie O'Donnell at an all-you-can-eat buffett. Paratrooper injuries go up proportionally with wind speed. Despite some precautions we had eight or nine guys end up in the Field Ambulance (Medic's humvee) after every group had jumped. A Lieutenant I work with ended up with a concussion. I think luck was on my side today, as I had a great exit from the aging C-130H, and also a fairly soft landing on the DZ. After impacting (not landing) back onto the earth, it takes a second to make sure everything is working and is still in the right spot. The Field Ambulances roam the DZ after each chalk (group of paratroopers) lands to make sure everyone is ok. The injury for me was my ID card, which had a corner broken off. I'm not sure how that happened, as it was in my left breast pocket during the jump. I left after jumping, as there were still some things to be accomplished back at the office. I had been on the main post for about five minutes before the clouds started dumping rain. I felt lucky at the time, but unlucky four days later when the rain had not stopped.
Nice
Wednesday, September 28th, 2005.
The humid blast furnace that is the Carolina Summer has finally been turned off. Today is one of the prettiest and most comfortable days I've experienced since I left Colorado. There are few things more satisfying than driving around (albeit still getting things done) with the windows down and the sunroof open. I'm ecstatic that I finally get to do this here.
The humid blast furnace that is the Carolina Summer has finally been turned off. Today is one of the prettiest and most comfortable days I've experienced since I left Colorado. There are few things more satisfying than driving around (albeit still getting things done) with the windows down and the sunroof open. I'm ecstatic that I finally get to do this here.
Monday, October 03, 2005
More of the Same
Yeah, I've been lax on posting lately. Can't be helped.
The good news- all the things we need that are not being personally carried by individual paratroopers are no longer any of our concern. As a unit we accomplished a tremendous amount of work in a very short amount of time. One of our sister units took twice as long to complete the same task. Go us.
Despite nearing our departure for other parts of the world, we continue to jump. This week there are several jumps that I hope I make it in on. Jumps nine and ten are right around the corner.
I've been a bit of an insomniac lately, which is why I am writing this and not sleeping. Scattered thoughts seem to come with that. I've got a lot of random things I will post soon. Goodnight all.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Beans and Bullets
I haven't posted much over the past two weeks, simply because there is nothing all that extraordinary to write about. We continue to prep for the move over to the Middle East. Inventories and Paperwork and Bears, oh my!
We had a fun jump today over on Sicily drop zone that went really well. However it required being at Pope AFB before the bars were even closed in Boulder. Oh well. Riding around in a C-17 at 500 feet AGL and jumping beats fighting a hangover. Lots of PT is on the plate for tomorrow anyway, along with a longer post.
We had a fun jump today over on Sicily drop zone that went really well. However it required being at Pope AFB before the bars were even closed in Boulder. Oh well. Riding around in a C-17 at 500 feet AGL and jumping beats fighting a hangover. Lots of PT is on the plate for tomorrow anyway, along with a longer post.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
This Old Container...
Got to play Bob Villa today, and used the majority of the day building shelves inside containers that the unit is going to use during deployment. I've stated it before, but working outside (on most days) beats being stuck inside an office with no windows. Work gets better with firearms or power tools. Myself and another Lieutenant had a few joes (enlisted soldiers) help out with a few tasks, and managed to outfit an entire container with two sets of shelves to throw crap on. We managed to keep all the fingers and eyes we started with.
The unit ran a 7 miler this morning for PT. I'm a little bit quicker on my feet than most of the other guys, so I started in the 'fast' group and was charged with catching with the slower runners who had started the course earlier. I think I passed about half the unit before I finished. My left knee is still giving me trouble. I'm ok when I run, but have a decent amount of trouble immediately after I stop. Ice and Ranger candy (motrin/ibuprofen) have been helping quite a bit, and I'm also going to try some different stuff with my shoes. (Even possibly different shoes.)
Professional life will be pretty boring until we're in-country. I'll keep posting though.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Gotta be Handy With the Steel
September 7th, 2005
Didn't do too much today, but I did get to go out and fire 9mm pistols with an MP unit who happened to have a gross excess of ammunition. Taking some initiative, I asked about going to this particular range yesterday, but the CO shot me down. He cited that others in the unit supposedly have priority for ammunition, one thing we never seem to have in sufficient quantity. This stems from allocation errors by desk jockeys way above my level. I will conceede that other individuals might have priority on the M9 (current Army issued 9mm pistol), but they won't be outside the wire on convoy escort half as much as I am. The pistol is a tool in a toolbox I intend to make as big as possible. It's my own opinion that we need to get as much experience with various weapons before leaving NC, no matter what the probability is of actually having to use that particular weapon. Some of my peers do not agree. All of this can be derived from the 'Warrior' mindset, and the willingness to learn one's craft. There are many here that possess this mindset. There are also many that do not, which disturbs me.
Either way, I tracked down my driver and a vehicle to transport myself (Since no one else wanted to go) to the range. I'm really glad I got out of the office, as the weather was just about perfect today. It's one of those days that makes you glad to be in a profession that spends a decent amount of time outside, as opposed to being stuck always flying a desk or occupying a cubicle. The oppressive heat in NC has disappeared, at least temporarily. Private Charlie rolled up in a Humvee with the top and doors removed, exactly the way one would want to cruise around on a day like this. Maybe someday I'll roll around Boulder with the same setup. Maybe.
I arrived at the range, checked in with the First Lieutenant running the range, and was almost immediately handed an handful of high capacity magazines. I think I blew through 20 or 25 mags in a 40 minute period. Not bad for one afternoon. Who doesn't like keeping the barrels hot?
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Thank God I'm a Country Boy?
This past Saturday night I went out with some guys from work. Not necessarily an unusual event, save for the fact that I went with them to the local Stock Car Races, something I haven't done previously. Since I enjoy racing, bellowing V8 engines, and chili dogs, it seemed like a sound choice. No beer pong this weekend.
My baptisim into one of the purest forms of Southern culture (auto racing exhibiting only left turns) was pretty fun. First, let me state that I am accepting of most all human cultures, as long as blatantly moronic practices are kept to a minimum. Let me also state that I come from a middle-class neighborhood in Colorado (very much disconnected from the South), and went to a big liberal State-sponsored Yuppie College. Despite the departure from my regular weekend activities, I had a pretty good time. I will say that this was the first 'sporting' event I have attended where one was allowed to bring a given amount of beer in. I wore a decent size assault pack to the track, and didn't warrant a second look by the guy manning the gate and taking tickets. I doubt this trick can be pulled off many places in the country. It's a pity I didn't take more advantage of it, I only had one beer.
Saturday night racing accurately reflects the relative level of driver skill in North Carolina. It appeared (to me) that the local high school drivers' ed class was filling in behind the wheel tonight. For every lap actually raced, there were 4 or 5 laps under the yellow flag. Unorganized vehicular chaos beats one lap after another with no other action, however.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Guns, Lots of Guns
August 30th, 2005
I sat in my arms room most of the day and checked the cleaniness of soldier's weapons and doing various officework. I say 'my' arms room because I'm the Arms Room Officer. It sounds kinda cool, but isn't. Think about the same time you moved. Remember all the crap you packed up? Did you have expensive or fragile stuff? Yeah, those things probably made moving more difficult. Now think if you were moving and had enough weapons and other cool toys to start a small rebel uprising. Think about if you were moving overseas, across a ton of international borders, and into a war zone. Now you get the idea.
Don't Hold Your Breath
August 29th, 2005
All our guys did a lap through the Gas Chamber today. Pretty fun to watch, until it's your turn to go in. Living in Boulder for a few years probably helps with one's tolerance towards tear gas though, as I had an easier time than a lot of our other guys did. I was ballsy and stayed in the chamber a bit longer, just to spite the Sergeant running everything and those who were afraid to take off their gas masks. It's a fun game, seeing how long you can keep your eyes open before you stumble to the door.
Hooray (?) beer
August 28th, 2005
I woke up this morning and had half a moment of clarity. I say half because I was hanging over pretty bad. I realized I don't like drinking much anymore. I should have been at home, in the big-ass bed I bought when I got to North Carolina, sleeping peacefully. Instead I was sitting upright in my a recliner at my buddy Rob's house, which I had eventually passed out in. Much of the Mojave desert was not as dry as my mouth was at the time. Still sitting in the recliner, I could see out the window to his backyard, where some of the bright red keg cups had fallen off the beer pong table onto the wooden deck. Yeah, definitely went too many rounds of that nonsense last night. Sometimes it's easy to forget that I'm not in college anymore. I'm not talking trash in the SigEp basement, trying to impress the random women watching the game. Furthernore, it now takes way too long for me to recover and screws me up for PT on the weekends. I find a bit of comfort in the fact that I won't be drinking at all for a year while I'm deployed. Booze has no place in a combat zone. Or in me for that matter. At some point something will click in my mind, and I'll loose all interest in that next beer. I think that just happened. Cheers.
I woke up this morning and had half a moment of clarity. I say half because I was hanging over pretty bad. I realized I don't like drinking much anymore. I should have been at home, in the big-ass bed I bought when I got to North Carolina, sleeping peacefully. Instead I was sitting upright in my a recliner at my buddy Rob's house, which I had eventually passed out in. Much of the Mojave desert was not as dry as my mouth was at the time. Still sitting in the recliner, I could see out the window to his backyard, where some of the bright red keg cups had fallen off the beer pong table onto the wooden deck. Yeah, definitely went too many rounds of that nonsense last night. Sometimes it's easy to forget that I'm not in college anymore. I'm not talking trash in the SigEp basement, trying to impress the random women watching the game. Furthernore, it now takes way too long for me to recover and screws me up for PT on the weekends. I find a bit of comfort in the fact that I won't be drinking at all for a year while I'm deployed. Booze has no place in a combat zone. Or in me for that matter. At some point something will click in my mind, and I'll loose all interest in that next beer. I think that just happened. Cheers.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
You call, we haul
I layed the map down on the hood of the humvee, flipped on my little LED flashlight, and started tracing the roads with my finger. Mentally I tried to remember what kind of condition each road was in, and if each would permit my team of escort vehicles and the numerous other convoy vehicles (of which I was escorting during this exercise) to pass without having to slow down. Slower trucks equal bigger targets for hadji. I've been at Fort Bragg for about six weeks, yet I'm entrusted to escort (and lead) more vehicles in a single column than most used car dealers in Fayetteville have on their entire lot. The original route planned by myself and my NCOs had been 'blocked' by a simulated IED detonation and now I had to find an alternate route. The open area our two elements have linked up at has now become a parking lot- diesel engines rumble at idle and headlights shine into the darkness. I think it's about 2345 hours, but I keep my attention focused on the map. Finally satisfied with the route, I look up at one of the best E5s I've ever met, Sergeant Tim.
"Looks good sir," Tim approves from the roof of my humvee. Ok, let's rock.
"Are you ready for the other personnel, LT?" The question floats out of the darkness to my left. It's the voice of the OC (Observer-Controller), a Captain who is critiqing me during the exercise. In this case, he waits for me to screw up and then verbally pimp-slaps me over the radio. The learning curve is steep tonight- he would be better suited wearing a leopard print cape and driving a '76 Cadillac Eldorado.
"Uh, yeah. Bring 'em over," It's usually only two or three guys that need to be briefed. Simple.
5 minutes pass, and 30 some soldiers appear from somewhere and clump together in front of my vehicle. Not only are there the (somewhat) expected junior enlisted and NCOs standing there, waiting for me to recite the convoy gospel, but also a handful of Lieutenants, Captains, and one Lieutenant Colonel. Let's remind ourselves that I am a Second Lieutenant, and a junior one at that. Sweet. I struggle through my 'brief' like Paris Hilton at an acting lesson. I'm getting sharp-shooted (asked difficult and often unnecessary questions) by people left and right. Even the Lieutenant Colonel gets in on the organized harrassment. I'm the Convoy Commander, the man in charge regardless of rank, and it is apparent to the soldiers I'm leading that I haven't done this a whole lot. I retrace the route I planned moments before, only to realize that now I can't read the map, or speak coherent english. Damn. Sergeant Tim jumps in and helps me out, providing a detailed description of the entire route straight from memory. I answer some questions from the crowd, and finally conclude the brief. I think my pride still has a pulse, but it will be a few weeks before it walks and talks again.
When all the vehicles finally get on the dirt road close to our previously occupied area, the column is several kilometers long. Fortunately I can jockey a radio with the best of soldiers, and constantly pull information from my escort vehicles to keep tabs on their condition and the surrounding area. However, due to terrain and distance, I can't communicate with the lead vehicle. Through some quick engineering we re-establish comms, and drive on with the mission. Through luck we make it to our destination without taking any IED hits or small arms fire from the OPFOR (opposing force).
On the trip back to our little corner of Fort Bragg my Humvee is given 'simulated mechanical failure' and must be towed. No problem, my guys have done this drill many times and can hook up the recovery gear from one vehicle to another in minutes. We stay in the vehicle while it is being towed, and after a several miles the recovery gear can be removed. Apparently Lady Luck isn't done screwing with me for the night. Seconds after the tow bar comes off, the diesel engine on my vehicle dies and will not turn over. Now we really need to tow it, and can't remain in the cab due to post regulations. I grab my carbine and radio, scramble up to the lead FMTV (big green army truck), and switch positions with the staff sergeant in the passenger seat. I'm now jockeying several radios, plotting our position on the map, and telling the driver where to turn. I manage to get the escort vehicles back without any navigational problems. Lieutenants' navigational prowess is not often well-regarded, but I stave off the critics for a bit.
Afterward the OC comes by my vehicle to give me his thoughts. I brace again for the pimp-hand, but it never comes. I had been given a pretty tough mission, and managed to successfully get all my people and vehicles to their destination. Despite some of the jacked up details, I had done pretty well. Lucky? No. I walk back to the broom closet that doubles as the Lieutenant's office, and strip off my helmet and body armor. The clock reads 0459, so I set the alarm for 0700. I forget when I fell asleep, but it didn't take long. Soon after the morning arrived, uninvited. Despite any of this, I love my job.
Commo Check?
The tricky part about recording and publishing the details of one's profession when in the military is not violating OPSEC. OPSEC is military slang for Operational Security, and it refers to not divulging sensitive information over an open forum. I wiill make an honest effort keep my postings as detailed as possible, but without saying anything stupid. Bear with me a bit.
Monday, August 22, 2005
OBC Journal - 3/24/05
The AC Reception
Sometimes one can make all the 'right' decisions in the pursuit of some happy ending. The knight in shining armor will sharpen his sword in with the hope that he will successfully slay the dragon. Sometimes luck is on your side, and sometimes not. For the first time in a long goddamn while, the setting for the evening was perfect. Despite this, the night totally sucked. Some kind of lucky streak has just come to an ugly end in a huge ball of flame.I could have sat home and banged my head against a wall and come out with a better feeling of satisfaction.
The AC Reception is the 'formal' evening where all the lieutenants [and supposedly their dates?] get dressed up and hang at what used to be the Fort Sill Officer's Club. It is now called the 'Patriot Club' and is open to all ranks. So much for being a snob college-boy. Everyone eats and drinks and dances the night away, if they choose. It's a good time. Or it's intended to be.
Oklahoma weather usually sucks. Ever hear of someone commenting about how the Oklahoma wind was 'Absolutely awesome yesterday'? Of course you haven't, and for good reason. However, the weather here couldn’t have been better tonight. I kinda like the setup of the ‘Patriot’ Club and most of the other FA Lieutenants are cool to chill with. I’m pissed because for the first time since middle school I couldn’t find a damn date, and with all the shit that we need to do for tomorrow it would have been a wasted evening even if I had a date. One huge misfire, as I'm all dressed up an have nobody to impress. I even shined my buttons.
If it mattered, I would worry about making a good impression on all the high-ranking officers I met tonight, but it doesn’t, so I couldn't care less. I’m sure Janus will be fun for the rest of the night. Oh yeah, Janus. Remember those presentations you gave in High School or College? You know, where the kids in the group would talk collectively for roughly 10 or 15 minutes on some random topic the TA chose? Janus is a computer generated simulation based on real military capabilities that the students here actually fight out over the course of a few days. My brief is tomorrow. I should mention that it's normal for the presentation/briefing to last 30-45 minutes for only one student. No one works together, or any of that other BS. Having that much material to present and simultaniously not looking like a moron is kinda tough. Yeah, I'll be up all night. Back to work.
(Edited note: I ended up not sleeping for a few days, but still racked up an 89% on the brief.)
Sunday, August 21, 2005
One More thing...
I haven't written anything of real substance for a while, due to various reasons that when combined together still don't justify anything. The biggest reason is that I've been on leave in Colorado for a bit, as it will be my last chance to really get away from Carolina before we deploy.
Yeah, I'll be in Iraq sometime between October or November. My unit is performing exclusively convoy escort duties for a group of units- part of the hired muscle in the area. Think Mad Max in the desert with Humvees. My official function is platoon leader, and I'll also be a convoy commander when tapped to go outside the wire.
In the meantime the unit has been training as much as possible. Next week we're running a certification exercise to see how much we all know about running convoys. I'm spending this Sunday reading up on everything available so I don't look too stupid next week. Even though the chance of our unit making a combat jump anywhere but in a WWII re-inactment is 0.003%, we still throw ourselves out of airplanes on roughly a bi-weekly basis. Jump days are pretty fun, and it's almost like having a day off from work. Jumping makes a young guy glad he chose to be a paratrooper instead of going to some leg (Non-Airborne) unit.
I'm still adjusting to life in Fayetteville. I made the desicion a while back not to buy too much stuff to furnish my apartment, as I will just be moving everything into storage in a couple months. So I've got this empty place when I'm home. I live in a quiet apartment home complex, and almost never see my neighbors. There are quite a few military types that live around here, as with everywhere else in Fayetteville. We all leave early in the morning for PT (around 5), and don't often get home before 6 or 7 in the evening. On weekends people sit by the pool or hang out in the weight room. I try to get out with the other LTs that I know from Oklahoma or my battalion, or my buddy from CU who is in the Special Forces pipeline (training). Going from knowing a ton of people in Boulder to not many in NC is disconcerting, but fairly normal I'm sure. I'm finally getting used to the humidity, some days are still pretty ridiculous. Despite some of the obvious differences, Fayetteville feels like Boulder in the sense that most people are very active and fit. More to come.
The Raleigh-Durham Airport...
...Can go to hell. This little prize was the result of me not predicting North Carolina traffic and the lack of adequate signage at the airport. I think it's funny more than anything else- there goes the beer budget. Unlucky maybe?
Random stuff:
sworks76: it's like a guy that once had standards will now do anything that walks
sworks76: because he is deprived of a necessity
CatchMe302: like a starving dog on a dog food commercial
Indecisiveness
I changed the layout of the Weblog, as the other style was wearing on me a bit.
It's pretty late right now, but I'll post a ton of stuff tomorrow. Goodnight all.
It's pretty late right now, but I'll post a ton of stuff tomorrow. Goodnight all.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
OBC Journal - 3/17/05
3-17-05
It’s Saint Patrick’s Day, and like last year I won’t be celebrating one of the best holidays at all. A pity, and pretty much sacrilege to the Irish heritage of the family. Last year I spent the evening studying or working on a paper, this year I’ll spend it working on bullshit gunnery stuff. Awesome. I doubt I’ll even feel like making up for it this weekend. I foresee another easygoing Saturday and Sunday spent just trying to get caught up on what I feel behind on during the week. I’m not sure if I’m angry or happy for my peers back home that still get to do the college thing. Lucky fuckers. Even though I’m spending St. Patty’s Day at home (again), there is a semi-cold Guinness stout next to me. I got out of Gunnery study hall pretty quickly, so let's drink to one more day that I’ll never have to spend at OBC again.
But mom and dad sent me a care package with a lot of cool things in it, which was above the call of duty. It did make thing reconsider a few things about my own existence at the moment though. With all the various forms of BS flying (almost literally) at the Lieutenants, it’s easy for us to forget that we are here to do a very important job, and not one that many others are willing to able to do. So sometimes forgo the fact that we are the guardians of the liberties most take for granted. I wonder how it will feel when I look back on the things I am doing right now. How will I react? Will I feel that my time here was well spent, or that I got set on some weird tangent with too little foresight and not enough common sense to do anything else? I really do miss the Boulder Bar Scene, and well, a lot of other things that were native only to the college life in Boulder. Of course, one never knows what he/she is missing until it has been given and taken away again. I seem to feel the need to re-learn this life lesson all the time. Maybe I can convince some kids to head out here before I head off to Ranger School. If that doesn’t happen, then I guess I will see them after I get situated at Bragg- I’m definitely taking a few days of leave when I get the chance. Like college, I really hope I look back on the next few years of my life and think, “Damn, that was a good time.” LT W
Round and Round We Go
I'm pretty smoked from this past week, which included a jump, various ranges (M4/M249), Convoy Patrols both day and night, and me giving the entire battalion a class on crew-served weapons. I'm pretty scatterbrained right now, but I do have some random thoughts for the week:
I had to get a few things for my house at about 10:00pm this past Saturday evening. I try to get all my Suzie homemarker crap done during the afternoon, so I can go out with the guys and drink and hit on women at the various local bars. Like I said before, I was pretty smoked from this past week, so I didn't really feel like going out. Target is closed, so I head down to the local Wal-Mart. Mistake. I figure that at this time on a damn Saturday night most people would be home with the family, or at least, out getting drunk at a bar like normal people. I pulled my car int a parking lot full of vehicles, thinking that there was some special promotion going on. One would think that it was 10:00am on Christmas Eve; feeding time at the consumer trough.
I try not to shop at Wal-Mart, for multiple reasons. I have an educational background that includes economics, but I don't buy into the normal evil-Conglomerate bullshit reasons I often hear against the company. Apart from any economical reasons, the place just bugs the shit out of me. Wal-Mart is the bastard child epitome of Americana- A person could walk into one of these warehouses at any hour of the day, and buy any household product or food. Something about the aura that you can feel when you walk in...it's hard to verbalize. I won't be going back unless it's absolutely necessary.
There is a built-in DVR system in the cable here. It's like TiVo, and friggin' rocks.
Those California Pizza Kitchen BBQ Chicken Pizzas are delicious.
Colorado owns every other state I've been to as far as beer goes, especially North Carolina. (Texas was a close second, but without the micros.) The whole booze system is pretty screwed up here. There are no 'Liquor Stores', except for the Class Six (Booze) stores on Fort Bragg. There are 'ABC' stores that sell liquor, but no beer. Grocery stores sell beer, but nothing all that great, and definitely no microbrews. For a kid that went to College in Boulder, this is damn near ridiculous. Maybe I can get the New Belgium Brewery to mail me a keg every once a while, at least before I deploy.
I had to get a few things for my house at about 10:00pm this past Saturday evening. I try to get all my Suzie homemarker crap done during the afternoon, so I can go out with the guys and drink and hit on women at the various local bars. Like I said before, I was pretty smoked from this past week, so I didn't really feel like going out. Target is closed, so I head down to the local Wal-Mart. Mistake. I figure that at this time on a damn Saturday night most people would be home with the family, or at least, out getting drunk at a bar like normal people. I pulled my car int a parking lot full of vehicles, thinking that there was some special promotion going on. One would think that it was 10:00am on Christmas Eve; feeding time at the consumer trough.
I try not to shop at Wal-Mart, for multiple reasons. I have an educational background that includes economics, but I don't buy into the normal evil-Conglomerate bullshit reasons I often hear against the company. Apart from any economical reasons, the place just bugs the shit out of me. Wal-Mart is the bastard child epitome of Americana- A person could walk into one of these warehouses at any hour of the day, and buy any household product or food. Something about the aura that you can feel when you walk in...it's hard to verbalize. I won't be going back unless it's absolutely necessary.
There is a built-in DVR system in the cable here. It's like TiVo, and friggin' rocks.
Those California Pizza Kitchen BBQ Chicken Pizzas are delicious.
Colorado owns every other state I've been to as far as beer goes, especially North Carolina. (Texas was a close second, but without the micros.) The whole booze system is pretty screwed up here. There are no 'Liquor Stores', except for the Class Six (Booze) stores on Fort Bragg. There are 'ABC' stores that sell liquor, but no beer. Grocery stores sell beer, but nothing all that great, and definitely no microbrews. For a kid that went to College in Boulder, this is damn near ridiculous. Maybe I can get the New Belgium Brewery to mail me a keg every once a while, at least before I deploy.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Cherry Jump
The entire group of paratroopers sits inside what is known as the Rigger shed, waiting for our aircraft, an Air Force C-17, to show up on the tarmac. We're all wearing parachutes and combat gear, idling and sweating inside our cammies in the North Carolina heat. The Rigger shed isn't air conditioned- it resembles a warehouse more than anything else. Hurricane Dennis has kicked up more moisture in an already too humid summer. We continue to sit let the camo facepaint drip off our faces onto the cement floor.
"I'm sure I'll be haulin' ass off the DZ, as long as I don't bust anythin'." Corporal 'Fox' stopped for a second. "Well, suppose I would be if I didn't have some fuckin' Cherry along with me."
I look over at the enlisted man next to me, crack a smile out of the side of my mouth, and raise the middle finger of my left hand. Corporal Fox smirks back. I'm still getting to know the soldiers of my unit, but I think we'll do just fine. Harrassing the new Lieutenant is a fun game everyone gets to play. I usually just laugh too.
A 'Cherry' in an Airborne unit is someone who hasn't jumped (made his/her sixth jump overall) since Airborne School. For the past several weeks I have been called this by my esteemed fellow Lieutenants, and even by some of the more experienced and outspoken NCOs, but no longer. Today was the first time I have thrown myself out of a high performance, low flying aircraft in over three years. I'll admit that I was nervous, but in the end I had an awesome exit from the aircraft (essential to a good jump), and suffered little damage on the landing. I fared much better than one of the guys in my unit, who ended up fracturing his pelvis. If nothing else, it's a reminder that this is a hazardous (but damn fun) business. I love the fact that I get paid to do this kind of stuff.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Happy Independence Day
Some of my associates in the past have complained about this particular holiday, most because their neighbors were more than liberal with their fireworks usage and caused their dogs to bark too much. To hell with that. I love the 4th- Soldiers are the reason for the holiday in the first place. I also think that soldiers should be given a bit more leeway in regard to how they choose to celebrate the holiday. The Fayetteville Police Department didn't seem to agree with this notion, however. Some crap about 'People having to work tomorrow', and 'You can't keep shooting [mortars] over people's houses'. We had plenty of food and beer to consume anyway. I know it is a bit belated, but happy 4th of July.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Origins of the Lucky Chronicle
Luck
n 1: your overall circumstances or condition in life (including everything that happens to you); "whatever my fortune may be"; "deserved a better fate"; "has a happy lot"; "the luck of the Irish"; "a victim of circumstances"; "success that was her portion" [syn: fortune, destiny, fate, lot, circumstances, portion] 2: an unknown and unpredictable phenomenon that causes an event to result one way rather than another; "bad luck caused his downfall"; "we ran into each other by pure chance" [syn: fortune, chance, hazard] 3: an unknown and unpredictable phenomenon that leads to a favorable outcome; "it was my good luck to be there"; "they say luck is a lady"; "it was as if fortune guided his hand" [syn: fortune]
Before and during my teenage years, I remember spending summers at my Grandmother's large home in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Grandma Elwin was an Irish woman working for the allied war effort during the 1940's. Here she met my grandfather, who was serving in the Army Air Corps. The two married, and moved to the midwest following the end of the war. Grandma Elwin would always have these cute stitched or crocheted things hanging up in her house with little Irish proverbs on them. Being fairly young at the time, I'm sure this is where I began my fascination with luck. My fascination has continued, through seasons playing hockey as a goaltender (some of the most superstitious people in the world are goalies) and especially now, as I routinely throw myself out of aircraft and deploy to Iraq in the fall. I'll keep track of how well Lady Luck and I get along here, hence the title. Cheers.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
La Première Entrée
I've been keeping a journal of one type or another for some time, mainly for my own future use. Each entry was simply a record, mostly of mistakes I had make for that particular week or day. I'm going to continue this habit, but post it here for everyone to read. I'll add the disclaimer that I won't edit what I write all that much. I'll post my old journal entries that I think are interesting or funny as hell. We'll see what happens.
Since I graduated from CU I've been sending out emails from time to time detailing what I have been doing as Uncle Sam directs. However, I think the weblog is a better medium to inform those who are interested in my adventures through life and the ever-changing world of the United States Military (re: I can put pictures and other cool stuff here). Also, I was inspired by Comer's Blog (inspired in turn by Bill Myhren) which I think is intelligent, well written and good shit to read. I hope mine is too.
Since I graduated from CU I've been sending out emails from time to time detailing what I have been doing as Uncle Sam directs. However, I think the weblog is a better medium to inform those who are interested in my adventures through life and the ever-changing world of the United States Military (re: I can put pictures and other cool stuff here). Also, I was inspired by Comer's Blog (inspired in turn by Bill Myhren) which I think is intelligent, well written and good shit to read. I hope mine is too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
