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.

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.

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.)

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.