It's Like Herding Kittens!!!

Well, well, well

2005-09-10T22:04:00.000-05:00

It seems I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, so I might as well update this thing.

First, for those who have been biting their nails, wondering, yes, we had our baby. A beatiful little girl, who, after 36+ hours of labor, she magically arrived. Since then, life has progressed as it will - some sleepless nights, a bit of "what is she crying for THIS time?" and so on.

But I wouldn't trade her for anything. My adoring wife will tell you that I don't really seem all to attached or emotional about her - but I do. I just can't wait for the days to roll around when she is old enough to actually play with...That's what I am looking forward to. Until then, she's pretty content with a full belly and a dry diaper.

As for work, I have spent the last 5 months training as a Respiratory Therapist. We (RT's) are the ones who manage the airway of those unfortunate enough to need our service. In addition to making sure you keep breathing, we also make your breathing easier with different modalities of breathing treatments. In a nutshell, it can be said that our job is to make it easier for you to keep breathing, but there is a lot more involved than most realize to acheive that goal.

The program is challenging, but I haven't found it terribly difficult. After 5 months of sitting in a classroom for 8-9 hours a day, we now get to go spend the next 4 months in a hospital doing clinical rotations and applying all that we've learned. Not bad, considering outside of the military it is a 2 1/2 year program to become a RT.

As for current events, it's sad and tragic what is happening in New Orleans and Mississippi, but I am losing my patients over most of it after reading numerous accounts of the ignorance that is running rampant. I agree that some lawlessness is expected - people need to survive, and basic services are non-existent. But please explain to me how a new plasma screen TV is going to feed your family. One soldier reported in the Army Times that he went into a store where the liquor and tobacco shelves were picked clean, and yet the store was still full of food. This was no doubt the work of the same masterminds that are shooting at the helicopters coming to rescue them.

Oh, and people, please quit bitching about all the blacks that are "being left behind." Statistically, based on the demographics of the area, that is how it is going to be, because the area is populated mostly by blacks. Were we supposed to transplant some white folks and asians in to the area so we didn't hurt anyones feelings?

Lastly, I know that New Orleans was a great cultural mecca, but it just doesn't make sense to rebuild the city the way it was, in the gulf coast, below sea level. Some serious re-engineering of that place needs to occur.

Just stick out your thumb!

2005-04-30T22:57:00.000-05:00

Years and years ago, I was given a copy of Douglas Adam's The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy to read. I read it, thoroughly enjoyed it, and went on to read most of the rest of the series. If you haven't, I recommend them highly.

Today, we went and saw the movie today. Holly didn't find it as enjoyable as I did; never the less, any fan of the book will enjoy this movie. I felt it did a decent enough job of bringing the characters to life - Marvin was especially entertaining.

The biggest drawback that I found is that if you are going into this movie with no knowledge of the story, you will most likely walk out of the theater with some thoughts along the lines of, "How much did we just pay to see this movie?" (Actually commented to me by my loving dear wife)

If you have a few extra hours, and you enjoy this kind of humor, by all means, head to the theaters!

And don't forget your towel.

Ain't Moving Grand?

2005-03-28T22:59:00.000-05:00

Well, we have been here in beautiful San Antonio for just over a week now, and hopefully we have already found our new home. The bad thing is, the earliest we can move in is next Monday. So that leaves us with basically a week with very little to do.

Holly flies home on Thursday for the baby shower - she'll be back in town the following Saturday, the day before I have to report back into work. There is still a part of me that worries that once I sign in, they won't authorize us off-post housing. While this is a small concern (my orders DO authorize dependents), if it does happen, I don't want to be stuck like chuck. Oh well - if anything happens, we will just have to deal with it then.

The time is short

2005-03-02T19:19:00.000-05:00

As it inevitably will, time continues its relentless march towards the moment when we will say good-bye to the town we have called home for the last chapter of our life. Holly and I are moving away, closer to family for both of us, to San Antonio in the great land of Texas. The Army will retrain me in a new career field, and Holly will deliver our first child shortly after our arrival there.

In preparation for this move, I have spent the last several work days traveling to and fro across Fort Bragg settling all matters necessary to bid this post farewell. This mostly consists of going to say, the finance office, waiting in line, and saying something along the lines of, "Hello. Please sign here and use your little stampy thing on this page - Have a nice day."

This has provided me with a fair amount of "free" time ("free" because when the house of cards comes tumbling down at some point in the future, our time will then be collected). During this period of nit having too much to do, I have had the opportunity to reflect back on my tenure here, and through conversations held with some comrades, some close, some not so much, I have realized my feelings and opinions about leaving the mighty 82d Airborne Division behind.

It is a bittersweet feeling, to sum it up. I am glad to leave this place of incessantly full schedules and calendars, but, all the same, it is somewhat disheartening. I have been here for almost four years, have traveled to nine different countries, been shot at numerous times, and had some outstandingly fun times. I have also worked harder than ever before in my life, been stranded on distant mountain tops in far away lands during bitter storms, endured climbing impossible ascents under full load in temperatures hot enough to make the devil himself cringe, and shed tears more than once at the passing of a friend. This place breeds a type of hatred, of sorts, for the utter bull#!@* that typically surround military communities. But it also teaches you to make do with absolutely the bare minimum necessary equipment, and accomplish the mission, whatever it is, regardless of any issues that may arise.

I will miss the people I have met along the way throughout my time here, but I look forward to meeting new faces in the future. I will miss knowing every possible way to get from one side of post, or town, to the other in the shortest possible time, but am eager to learn my way around a new one.

I guess one must embrace the changes that life brings about, or one will be destined to lead a miserable and unhappy life. Not many like change, but we all must learn to deal with it in our own way, or we will get stranded behind as everyone else passes us by.

On the other hand, I did just save a bunch of money on my car insurance...

Yes, I'm still alive

2005-02-18T21:18:00.000-05:00

Well, it has been quite awhile since last I updated.

First, to all my adoring fans - I apologize.

Second, to everyone else - Why aren't you one of my fans?

To save me the time of having to type everything that has happened since the last time I visited my blog, I will give you the quick, instant gratification type of summary that today's society yearns for:

We drove to Texas for Christmas. We checked out the post we will be moving to soon, and it was TINY compared to Bragg. Holly's pregnancy has progressed without complication. I spent quite a bit of time out in the woods in January, and yes, it was cold. Very, very cold. I got to pull the Jumpmaster duty I needed, and was subsequently awarded the Senior Parachitist Badge. We will be moving to Texas (San Antonio) the middle of March. Got new tires for the Mustang.

Yep, there were a lot more interesting events that transpired. However, I am too lazy to write them all down right now.

Maybe in a little bit.

Ha! I'm still here!

2004-12-16T19:35:00.000-05:00

Well, it has been almost a month since last I ventured into the blogging world. I figured I had taken enough of a hiatus, so I have returned to grace the masses with my thoughts. Only for a day or so, though. Saturday we are going to Texas for about 2 weeks.

Surprisingly, there hasn't been too much going on since last time. I got certified as a Unit Prevention Leader, meaning now I am authorized and certified to teach my company about the horrors of drug and alcohol abuse. It also means that when we make the guys pee into little bottles that I get to do all the paperwork, and handle the transportation of a couple of gallons of warm liquid in varying shades of yellow. Speaking of random drug testing, two of our soldiers came up positive for drug use, and are now on there way out of the Army. Another soldier who was transferred to a different unit came up hot at his new home for cocaine, so they shipped him back to us to deal with. Problem was, he was there for a week before he was tested. Coke stays in your system for up to 3 days. He did it on their watch. Those lazy bastards! Actually, he confessed to doing it the night before the test. He came up so hot, I'm surprised he didn't pee right through the bottle.

Holly has gotten over teh bulk of her illness. She has regained most of her energy back, and has taken back a lot of the housework from me. Bless her heart, she is a godsend. I love that gal!

Holly and I both have finished this semester of school. Holly did well, and I did great in one class and fairly well in another. You wouldn't know it to look at the grades though. Never mind that I achieved 84 percent of the possible points in the class - my grade says 70% thanks to the way this (expletive deleted) grades her (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted) class. (expletive deleted).

Well, it's almost time to watch CSI, so have an enjoyable day!

I can't think of a title for this post

2004-11-20T20:28:00.000-05:00

Thanks to my brother's blog, I have found a somewhat interesting "game" - you enter all the music on your computer into the player of your choice, randomize your selection, and list the top 10 songs, no matter the embarassment. Mine are listed below, and I don't think it's too bad.

Whenever, Wherever, Shakira
Still Rainin', Johnny Lang
Travis Barker Drum Solo, Blink 182
Amazing Grace, Tramaine Hawkins version
Sickness, Linkin Park
Monosyllabic Girl, NOFX
Magnetic North, Less Than Jake
Why Don't You Get a Job, The Offspring
In the End, Linkin Park (Remix by some unknown DJ)
I Think About Angels, Sara Evans

I shuffled my list again, just for giggles, and here is the 2nd top ten:

Marriage, Rodney Carrington (not really music, but it will work for teh game, I assume)
Crawling, Linkin Park
Our Love is Unconditional, George Strait
We Danced Anyway, Deanna Carter
Magnetic North, Less than Jake (see #7 above - creepy)
It's Raining on Prom Night, Me First and the Gimme Gimmees
Breakfast at Tiffany's, REM
San Francisco, Me First and the Gimme Gimmees
Leave it Alone, NOFX
Hey, Ya!, Outkast

Ahh, the joy of comic relief

2004-11-14T09:17:00.000-05:00

While perusing other people's blogs, I came upon one taht usually has insights to daily life that make me chuckle. The latest post on this blog mad me roll on the ground laughing.

Here it is:

The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, I promise!"Well, the hours passed and the champagne was going down way too easy. Around 3 a.m., drunk as a skunk, I headed for home.Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up & cuckooed 3 times.Quickly, realizing he'd probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, & I told him 12:00. He didn't seem disturbed at all. Whew! Got away with that one!Then he said,- "We need a new cuckoo clock."When I asked him why, he said,- "Well,last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, "Oh shit," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted.

Interesting.

2004-11-13T06:30:00.000-05:00

While making my checks of the barracks, I found a rather interesting documetn posted on one of the bulletin boards. I have included it here for your enjoyment.

Why the 82nd is Different

In a 7-block strip on the eastern coast of the United States, stacked three stories high, existing two to a room, live 15,000 elite paratroopers who compromise the 82nd Airborne Division. These men and women represent less tan 0.0001 percent of America, but wear the red, white, and blue All American Double-A patch, representing the diversity of their origin. The patch was created at the birth of the 82nd in 1917, originally as an Infantry Division. It was found there that each state of the union was represented by the men standing on the field at Camp Gordon that August day. Hence the 82nd’s nickname, “All-American.” That diversity still rings true today. There are soldiers that hail from every walk of life and every background imaginable serving proudly under that patch created so long ago.
Despite being originated as a regular Infantry division, it was re-designated as an Airborne Division in 1941. The Army polled its existing units to find individuals willing to jump out of an airplane as part of a “test” platoon. Only the most motivated and committed, fearless and daring individuals applied, and even then many were dismissed for lacking the rigorous physical standards required. SGT Audie Murphy, the most highly decorated soldier in the Army’s history, was denied admittance to this outstanding division for being too slight in frame and stature.
To this day, the soldiers within the 82nd Airborne Division have had to volunteer a total of three times in order to wear the coveted maroon beret. They volunteered to serve the United States Army, they volunteered to attend Airborne School, and then they must volunteer in writing accepting assignment to an airborne unit. This is true for our infantrymen, as well as mechanics, cooks, medics, administrative clerks, and engineers. Every soldier in the Division is Airborne qualified. It is the only Division in any service where the Commanding General must execute the same basic task, to the same basic standard, as the youngest private.
We maintain the legacy of our Division by ensuring our soldiers complete a tactical training jump, at least once a month, during their tenure here at Ft. Bragg. There is not a coward among them. Should one freeze at the critical moment, he would have orders assigning him elsewhere shortly upon return to his barracks. We test their mighty resolve by filling the night skies with heavily laden parachutes, suspending soldiers over the drop zone with all gear necessary to sustain and fight. Summer, winter, rain, day, and night we jump. We jump with combat light loads, with the absolute minimum, and we jump combat heavy with enough supplies to survive for weeks in the woods. We assault objectives on the drop zone and we foot-march for miles on end after all-night missions, just to do it again the following night.
We are the last Airborne Division in existence throughout the globe. The former Soviet Union once had twelve such divisions, but has relegated down to only a few brigades over the years. Other countries, both allied and enemy, have some sort of airborne insertion capacity, but none with the sheer fierceness that a 15,000 man multi-faceted division can bring to a fight.
We are capable of dropping upwards of 800 heavily armed paratroopers every six to seven minutes, anywhere in the world, within 18 hours of notification. More if the selected drop zone permits it. There is no country in the world that can defend against an airborne insertion of that magnitude, capable of landing anywhere inside their homeland. It is just impossible for them to man every possible acre of droppable terrain.
The awesome responsibility of being deployable on two-hour’s notice to a hostile country feeds the adrenaline these soldiers train with to remain ready and fit to fight. Unlike any other conventional unit in the U.S. Army, we have no way of returning to the safety of friendly lines once we are committed to the sky. An insertion is a permanent deal – a covenant made between you and the sky. The getaway vehicle is flying away at 500 feet above ground level, increasing speed past 150 miles per hour, quickly banking out of enemy airspace.
Paratroopers are proud to be a part of this awesome organization, and the maroon beret defines them as who they are and what they represent. The feats of today’s paratroopers should come as a surprise to no one. They are a cut above the rest, willing, able, and motivated beyond the scope of duty, honor, and country. They come from a breed of men that do not refuse challenges, do not shirk responsibility, and cannot fail. They simply do not know how.

People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.
-George Orwell

As if having to jump out of planes isn't bad enough!!

2004-11-13T01:43:00.000-05:00

Well, here I am, again slaving away at work. Not really though. I got asked to cover down on CQ duty for a buddy so he could attend a bachelor party for someone else. Out of the kindness of my heart, and $40 from the buddy, I agreed to show up.

Not too bad, really, 12 hours of boredom to do some schoolwork I've been putting off. The annoying part is I have this Staph infection thing kickin' on my cheek. It has turned into an unsightly abscess, and I can't get it checked out until Monday morning. It hasn't got to the painful stage yet, but I'm sure it will.

Hopefully the wonderful Army medics can hook me up with some nifty anti-biotics and kick tis thing in the behind shortly. Last thing I need is some pinkish volcano-like growth engorging itself on my face. I'm not the prettiest man around, and I can use all the help I can get, but I usually prefer it in the other direction.

Look, they're break dance fighting!

2004-11-01T19:59:00.000-05:00

Name that movie.

Second, and more seriously, AH!! People can be such JACK-ASSES!

I wear the uniform of our country, quite proudly, I might say. It is one of those things you do, when in the service of one's country, that when the flag of your beloved nation is raised or lowered, you pay the proper respect to said flag.

The red white and blue banner that has become a cultural icon for today's global plight is much more than 13 stripes with 50 white stars sprinkled over a blue field. It represents the tireless resolve of this country to lead the way in all things having to deal with freedom and democracy. Where people see that flag, they know that freedom lives there. Our country, the greatest damn country on earth, is founded on a set of principles, the greatest of which, the God given right to the pursuit of hapiness, is the basic framework in our Declaration of Independence, used to wretch ourselves free from a tyrannical monarchy. The Constitution of the United States is the law of how to ensure that all Americans are afforded that right. Our flag is representative of that constitution, hence that Declaration, and so that right. We, in the armed forces, are the bearers of this flag. It is our solemn vow to uphold these ideals, against all enemies, and should the need arise, lay down our lives so that the pursuit of freedom be continued.

Hundreds of thousands of soldiers, marines, sailors, and airmen have and spilt blood in the defense of this flag. Should my country require me to do so, I would with no hesitation. I wholeheartedly support and believe in everything that our flag stands for.

So it is with a nighted cover (name the play I'm stealing a line from) over my heart that I report that at the end of the day today, as the flag of the country that I love was being lowered and Retreat was blaring across the loudspeakers on Ft. Bragg, NC, I witnessed a soldier running back inside to avoid having to pay the proper respect to our country. This immediatley vacated any respect as a soldier I had for this individual, and the next time I see him, he will hear an earful about what loyalty to country means.

AHHH!! Some people should be slapped with a rotten cod!

Oh yeah, I have a blog to update

2004-10-21T10:33:00.000-05:00

Well, contrary to what some of you might have heard, I am still alive and kicking, albeight a bit less than usual. Aside from having a job that has differing at best hours, I have a pregnant wife that is suffering from debilitating nausea, so when I get home there are clothes and dishes to take care of, meals to cook, homework to do, and a dog to walk/play with. Add on top of that, a week of recovering from a fun-filled oral surgery, and then coming back to a hectic work week full of schedule changes....the blog kind of took a back seat.

Sorry.

So Holly is feeling a little better. She had her first appointment at the hospital today, got lab work done, and got put into the OB/GYN system for all of her future appointments. To alay her fears, they were able to schedule her next appointment for next Wednesday. At that visit, she will get her physical and get the little one's heartbeat checked.

Work has been busy. We got a new 1SG, so there has been lots of updating databses, printing reports, and general trainup of the new commanders advisor. Add on to that, preperation for "Large Package Week," where we take the whole battalion and throw them out of airplanes with all of their gear. As you can imagine, there are about 3 weeks of prep that need to go into this, and we usually get about 4 days.

I was a Saftey on on of the aircraft, which means I was overall responsible for the saftey of everyone on my bird. You see the guys in the movies that stand at the door and grab everyones static line as they jump out, right? Well, that was me. It is an exhilirating experience, capped by the fact that thanks to the USAF pilots, I almost got to test an Air Force emergency chute. More details to follow on that, sometime.

But for now, I am going to go to lunch, and keep catchingup on my work. And nursing the arm that slammed into the airframe, keeping me inside the plane. Damn Air Force

I hope your not Dr. Giggles

2004-10-05T05:34:00.000-05:00

Well, this morning I have oral surgery scheduled. A procedure called crown lengthening. They are doing this so that 6 weeks from now, I can have all of my lower teeth, from canine to canine, crowned to help with a genetic condition I have called Dentinigenesis Imperfecta.

Holly's still sick as all heck, and now I am going to be laid up with sore gums.

WOO-HOO!!

OWW! Quit it!!

2004-10-03T09:36:00.000-05:00

I do believe that it is time to buy some stock in whatever company is most responsible for bubble wrap - you know, those little blisters of air that drive everyone except the one popping them crazy (by the way, if you have the chance, through a sheet of it on the floor and blast over it with a rolling chair - it's bubble-genocide!).

Today as Holly and I were sitting in the car at the church parking lot, our car was molested. Literally, banged from both sides. Both cars parked on either side of us opened their doors into the sides of our beloved silver beauty.

OK, I understand that occasionally, your door opens a little to far, and taps the car next to you. We have all done it at one time or another. These were full on assaults that made me glad we invested in decent shocks to stifle the rocking that ensued. Thanks to modern door-framing technology there was no damage, but still!!!

Worst part about it - even though we were both clearly inside the car, neither of our assailants bothered to so much as say "Oops, sorry."

Makes me wonder, if our car can get struck like that twice in the span of about 3 minutes, in a CHURCH PARKING LOT, with us INSIDE THE DANG CAR, what the heck happens when we leave the car alone at someplace like the local Wal-Mart or movie theater?

I should rig up some sort of trap so that if you hit my car with your door, your car won't start until I come override the system. That'll teach 'em.

Oh well, maybe I should just stop caring about how fast or wide I open my doors, and unleash my own kind of personal vengeance.

Have a door-ding-free day!

It was the best of times...

2004-09-27T19:05:00.000-05:00

Being in the military, you always here the cliches about how this will turn out to be the best time of your life, and you'll have all these great memories, and what not.

At the time, you really don't think so. I remember running a mission in the mountains of Afghanistan, blowing up thousands of pounds of cached weapons. We got stuck outside of this little village for almost three days because the weather was so bad the pilots couldn't get the choppers in to get us out. We had planned for a 18 hour mission (it was supposed to take 3 hours) After the first 36 hours, we had very minimal food and no water, and really no hopes of getting any. We literally pooled our money and paid the locals for food and firewood to keep warm and thaw out (the first night it poured down freezing rain ALL NIGHT LONG - needless to say the next day was a cold friggin' day). This was by far the coldest experience I have ever had in my life. You know how your fingers get if you spend too long in the tub or shower? My HANDS, to my wrists, were like that, pure white, for 3 days after the mission ended and we finally got back to our tents.

We went from that to having to climb thousands of feet of the most severe terrain I have ever thought about, in full battle gear, in 130° heat. We would drink a gallon of water before breakfast. Everyday. It was so hot that there would be random lightning storms almost every night - very surreal. We were fortunate enough to have our resupply helicopters (we were operating out of a forward base somewhere in the country) carry some of our supplies to the tops of the mountains we had outposts on for us. But everything else we carried. Weapons, ammo, extra water, food. Plus our body armor, and radios (with batteries), and all the other necessary items to sustain yourself on a combat mission.

And you know what? Those cliches are right. I look back at my experiences in Afghanistan, getting 107mm rockets shot at us almost nightly, to my travels through greater Baghdad, Iraq, having 82mm mortars landing in the lake next to our living quarters, and I can't help but to laugh.

We had a couple minutes of downtime today, and we were reliving some of our tales, and we were laughing our asses off about some of the stuff we did. Like driving full speed in a Ford Ranger pickup between bases in Iraq, in the middle of the night, with no lights on because we could see tracer fire in the direction we were going and didn't want to let the bad guys know we were coming, with rifles loaded sticking out the window just in case. Or having to make checks around the perimeter of our base in Afghanistan making sure the towers had batteries for their radios, and having the headlights of our John Deere® Gator going out, so we turned on our triple-A powered headlamps and kept hauling ass.

Everything from our section leader at the time insisting we all got up at sun-up to go running (we all got up before sun-up and left him alone) to the donkey we hired to carry supplies up a mountain that fell down about 700 feet of jagged terrain (we had to put the donkey out of its misery the next morning - our chain of command wouldn't let us risk going out and doing it at night, and we had to pay the locals for the donkey), to the guy who we bet couldn't eat a case of 30 yogurt's in 30 minutes (he made it to 22 in the first 7 minutes, and then only got 4 more in the rest of the time).

At the time, it was some of the most horrible experiences of my life, and some of the things I saw on my world-tour-to-date will be etched into my brain for eternity, forever haunting me at the most inopportune times. But looking back at it now, I had some of the funniest times of my life with those guys, and I will never forget the times we had, and most of the memories we made.

I remember those times mostly with fondness an laughter, lightheartedly making fun of each other for some of the stupider things we did while there (see above night-time driving stories), but I also remember the camaraderie - the knowledge that at any time I could be called upon to literally save the life of my closest friends, or help them kick the living crap out of someone that was trying to kill both of us. If you have never shared the experience of whole-heartedly fearing for your life with someone else, you really don't know the kind of closeness that we soldiers share - I believe even more so in our unit. Shared hardship is one of the things that bring people closest together, and an Airborne Infantry unit that has spent 12 of the last 21 months in a combat zone half a world away have shared a lot of hardship together.

I continue to pray for my brothers and sisters still over there, and I sincerely hope you do, too.

Shouldn't have put THAT there.

2004-09-25T07:46:00.000-05:00

Some of you may remember my tirade about having my ass handed to me about a certain parking spot incident a while back.

Yesterday, I noticed that the ass-hander himself, the Command Sergeant Major for the 82d Airborne Division, the number 1 tier 2 (tier 1 is special forces) unit in the ARMY, able to drop in 14,000 soldiers with all their equipment anywhere in the world, had a sign proclaiming that the parking spot in question was his, and no one else's.

It's nice to know that I had an impact on his life.

Oh, and our spare bedroom is decorated in road signs (everyone needs a collection of some sort, right?). This one will make a fine addition when the time is right.

8:00 AM - Yay for sleeping in.

2004-09-25T07:01:00.000-05:00

Well, another week has gone by. Holly and I spent three days in Myrtle Beach, SC, on a marriage retreat through our chaplain. It was perfect - our hotel rooms view included sand and ocean. It truly was just what the doctor ordered.

Our battalion has assumed the role of Division Ready Force 1. The 82d Airborne Division constantly has a task force on 2 hour recall, ready to fly anywhere in the world, wheels up on our way within 18 hours of notification. For the next month or so, that's us.

This poses no real problem - I have assumed this mission numerous times in my almost 4 years with the 82d. The problem comes from having the no-notice mission pushed on us with, well, no-notice. We usually know months in advance when we assume mission cycle, and can prepare accordingly. We found out two weeks ago, and promptly had 4 days to accomplish about 4 weeks worth of work. This meant jumping through our ass, repeatedly, to get everything done (weapons zeroed, paperwork done, updating wills and powers of attorney, making sure contact info is correct, etc.) This, also, poses no real problem - life in the 82d is faster paced than anywhere I have ever experienced. I get up at 4:45 in the morning, and sometimes don't make it home until 9 or 10, with really no break. We honestly always have something to do.

So OK, we had a couple of weeks of honest-to -goodness jump-through-your-booty-and-make-this-happen. Got it. The problems came when the Battalion, whose job it is to support the companies with the assets we need to accomplish the jump-through-your-booty-and-make-this-happen couldn't. It is piss-poor performance when we come in in the morning and find out THEN that there has been a weapons range scheduled for weeks, and oh by the way, we are responsible for running it. OH, and no, we don't have trucks for your soldiers to get to and from the range.

This is very much a case of "You must accomlish this mission, by this time. You have zero assets to help you accomlish this mission. We will not provide you with any assets to accomplish this mission. This mission WILL be accomplished by you, today, no excuses. Ready go."

This is all thanks to one man, who shall remain nameless in the hopes that anonyminity shall spare his life from the wrath of several hundred pissed off paratroopers.

Again, I am rambling, and the dog needs to go out, so that's all for now.

When is enough character enough?

2004-09-14T02:43:00.000-05:00

Well, they say that hardship breeds character. It is now 3:19 in the morning. I am still at work. We have not been released yet. When we do get released, we have to be back into work today at 11:00.

I'm not complaining about this - it is by no means the most grueling schedule the Army has slid across my plate.

I would just like to point out that were any civilian organization to force the same work requirements upon their employees, the labor unions would have a field day with them. Since retro is in this season, I think it would rejuvenate the movement of tarring and feathering, or perhaps running people out of town on rails.

They (being the Army senior types) say we can work long hours all the time because we get paid 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Not true. For this to happen, we would have to be getting paid an hourly rate, for every hour in a given year. As it is now, we are salary workers. Our pay charts are set up so that each military member's pay is per month. For the "we are paid for every hour" idea, essentially never clocking out of work, my pay (I am an E-5, and have been in for a little over 4 years. Military pay is based on rank and how long you have been in) equates to $3.49 per hour.

I guess it really boils down to perspective. I could look at it as making $3.50 an hour, or $0.05 cents a minute, of $30,648 a year, or whatever. But it still doesn't make it right the amount of hours we put into this job as military members.

Yeah, I'm rambling, but it is almost quarter to 4, and I'm entitled to, because I'm still on the clock.

Welcome to Earth. Where are you from?

2004-09-08T10:42:00.000-05:00

Alright, here we go. The allure was to great to pass up - I had to check out the Swifties web site (thanks for the prompt, Rob). I got this from their front page:

"Though we come from different backgrounds and hold varying political opinions, we agree on one thing: John Kerry misrepresented his record and ours in Vietnam and therefore exhibits serious flaws in character and lacks the potential to lead."

Misrepresentation of ones military record does indeed exhibit a flaw in character. I will allow that. Good point, chalk one up for the swifters.

Claiming that misrepresenting ones military record is cause for lack of leadership? I place that in the same category as saying that if you lie about the size of the fish you caught, you are a bad father. It is absurd and makes no relative sense. I know a whole bunch of guys who would qualify as some of the finest damn leadership this world will ever know, and I don't think a single one of them has not embellished their tales of combat. (Yes, I realize their is a difference between embellishing your stories and lying...save your mass hate mail :))

Try again Swift Boat Veteran's - you have not convinced me yet.

And the winner is...

2004-09-08T10:11:00.000-05:00

If my memory serves me correctly, it is usually very easy to find out what the political standpoint of presidential nominees are. Don't get me wrong, I know that the information is out there, ready to find. I'm referring to the fact that in years past, the info was practically thrown at the American public from almost every facet of mass media. Of course, I haven't paid too much attention in years past, I am only 22.

It does seem however, that all the information regarding what the candidates view and feel about the issues at hand is taking a back seat to what I like to call the "Who can smear the best" campaigns of both camps. Granted, playing to today's crass culture with its insatiable appetite for reality TV and watching our brethren fail (we don't watch reality TV to see who wins, we watch to see the heartbreak of defeat - admit it) with political campaigns is smart. If the most popular thing going in popular culture today was applied art with a focus on underwater basketweaving, we would probably see campaign ads that read something along the line of "Swiftboat Veterans for the Truth Claim Kerry Used an Over-Over-Under Pattern Instead of the claimed Over-Under-Over in VietCong Basket Projects. Details on Page 7." I don't blame the campaigns' for following what they believe will get the attention of the masses. It's how almost all businesses stay alive.

I do, however, blame the candidates for allowing their respective campaigns to sink to little more than "You're ugly...No, I'm not ugly, I am beautiful and my purple hearts say so. YOU are ugly...I disagree. The point isn't that your purple hearts are ugly - You yourself are ugly..." and so on. Rather than waste MILLIONS OF DOLLARS on this childish dribble. It would probably be more cost effective, and more entertaining to just have Bush and Kerry have a wrestling match, winner take all. All the money they save can go a worthwhile institution, like my bank account.

Of course, this is the rambling of just one man, and it's probably more of a vent than a rambling. But if I don't bitch about it, who will?

Hello? Is anybody there?

2004-09-06T08:10:00.000-05:00

Despite a sometimes terribly hectic schedule at work (damn Army), I am attending the local community college via online courses. This is my second semester doing so, and so far I am rather enjoying it. Except for the fact that in one of my classes, our professor has yet to grade ANYTHING that has been submitted. It states very clearly that if she doesn't hear from you for 3 days, an attempt will be made to contact you, and if no contact is made by the fifth day, you will be dropped from the class.

How would that policy translate to a student not having any contact from a teacher? Can I keep the class and just drop her? I think I'll have to call the administration office and find out.

This is what we do.

2004-09-06T08:06:00.000-05:00

It's a living. And yes, those are people. We drop from 800 feet above ground level, carrying up to 80 lbs. of gear, not counting the weight of our chutes.

Welcome Back!

2004-09-01T01:02:00.000-05:00

Well, we survived the week or so of fun time out in the woods.
It started with a jump into a defended airfield, where our mission was to provide supporting fire to the elements clearing the buildings on the airstrip. I was a safety on my aircraft for the jump, which means that I was responsible for ensuring that everything that happened on my door (we jump from two paratroop doors - one per side of the airplane) was safe. It was my first safety duty after graduating from Jumpmaster school, so I was a little nervous, but not too bad. Add to it that we were pushing door bundles (a couple of hundred pounds of cargo pushed out of the door before the troops start jumping) and it was shaping up to be an interesting night. All went smoothly, until we got to about 10 minutes out from drop time. The safety on the the other door got airsick, and started puking on his jumpers. One of the soldiers on my door decided he was not going to jump, and when I pushed out the door bundle, the parachute malfunctioned, and it got towed behind the aircraft. The Air Force Loadmaster cut the static line, and it fell free. So now there are around 160 lbs of cargo hurtling down from 800 feet, and I realize that we are the SECOND aircraft. There are already people on the ground. Not good.
We circled for about 20 minutes, and then the Air Force scratched our bird. Back to the Air Force base we went, where it quickly turned into a circus out on the tarmac, with every pilot and crew chief feeling they HAD to come and look at the plane and ask us questions right then. After we finally moved inside, it transferred into a race to fill out the sworn statements about what happened. All in all, a shitty airborne operation. And since no jumpers exited my door, it didn't count for currency. Yeah.

Fast forward to several uneventful days in the field, out in the woods. The boys spent the days and nights training, and I spent the days and nights either making runs back and forth into the rear to get supplies, or watching the radio.

Monday night. Tropical Storm Gustave paid us a visit. Now, when Hurricane Charley hit North Carolina, they pulled EVERYONE out of the field and sent them home. The hurricane showed up, and it sprinkled a little rain. Gustave reared its ugly head, and let forth a torrential soaking of biblical proportions. I seriously contemplated how useful an ark would have been. As if the fact that it was absolutely pissing down rain, and windy as hell wasn't enough to give you a bad night, at about 2:00 a.m., at the height of the onslaught, my hooch (we don't use tents, we string a poncho between some trees with bungee cords to make a shelter - a quick and effective way to protect oneself from the elements) decided it was done playing; it was was quitting, taking its ball and going home. When we run short of trees for "hooching up," we improvise by using stakes, folding shovels, water cans, etc. I was utilizing my e-tool (folding shovel) to secure a corner of my hooch. Apparently, after a seeming eternity of flooding, the ground became so soft that it would no longer support the tension of my hooch via the e-tool, so it just flipped itself out of the ground and proceeded to allow the rain demons to attack with full fury. Talk about a pain in the ass. Not only am I being kept awake by listening to weather-hell on earth, now I am in the process of very rapidly becoming wet. What did I do, you might ask? The only thing I could. I tucked my poncho around the rest of my gear, grabbed my boots, and made a mad dash to the truck where the guy watching the radio that hour was. I spent the rest of the night very uncomfortably laying in the back, listening to my equipment get wet.

Was it the most horrible night of my life ever? No (that was getting stuck in the mountains of Afghanistan). Did I survive? Yes. Will I continue to bitch about it because it downright sucked ass to be out there?
You're damn right I will.

We're off to see the wizard...

2004-08-24T05:24:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to drop a line letting everyone know I'll be in teh field training until the 1st of teh month.

Have an airborne day.

Congratulations!

2004-08-21T16:39:00.000-05:00

I offer up many "props" to the networks of NBC for this years coverage of the summer Olympics.

In years past, it has seemed to be the general practice of American networks covering the events to only focus on the American athletes. If no Americans were participationg in a sport, we generally did not see it. When Americans did compete, we usually only got to see that particular match that invovled the athletes from our home country. NBC, however, has done a wonderful job of not just showing us our athletes, but the world's as well.

This is a vast improvement over history, and I personally feel that is what the spirit of the Olympics is about.

The greatest show on Earth.

2004-08-19T20:15:00.000-05:00

This was our company in greater Baghdad, Feb 29 of this year. The building behind us is one of Sadaam's former hotels, at the al-Radwaniyah Palace Complex, south of Baghdad International Airport. We were stationed here, attached to the 1st Armored Division out of Germany, for teh better part of four months. Our mission was to support the Airport by deterring any surface to air missle launches.

What an honor!!

2004-08-18T08:49:00.000-05:00

One of the perks of being in the military is that you occasionally get to meet interesting and somewhat noteworthy people. Today I was introduced to Command Sergeant Major (CSM) Wolf Amacker, the senior most enlisted soldier in the 82d Airborne Division. His primary role is to serve as the common sense and advice giver for the commanding general.

I did not, however, meet him by my choosing. It turns out that I was parked in his parking space, and I know now the full fury of how passionately CSM Amacker values his parking space.

Never mind that the space was NOT MARKED IN ANY WAY.

Also, forget the fact that I had been parked there since about 9:30 p.m. last night.

No, despite the fact that there were no markings on, in, or around the parking space, and that I had been parked there (within the confines of a legal parking space, mind you) OVERNIGHT, I was wrong.

Chalk this one up to the list of things I loathe about senior Army types.

Someone, Somewhere, will find this funny

2004-08-18T01:56:00.000-05:00

Not too long ago, a vast majority of the Army's 82d Airborne Division returned from lengthy deployments overseas. This brought about a gargantuan influx of new automobiles onto Ft. Bragg proper, and subsequently shattered any hope of EVER finding a parking spot within a square mile of where you need to be. When questioned about this, the commanding general of the division, who has reserved parking spaces everywhere, AND gets driven around in a van that can park wherever the hell it feels like, had this to say:

"The 82d has always had parking issues, but I haven't really noticed a problem around the division area."

Hmm...

Oh, so that's how it's going to be?

2004-08-17T20:52:00.000-05:00

One of the things that has greatly reduced my overall view of senior officers in the Army is the way rewarding soldiers is handled. It is the aim of damn near every soldier to one day have a stack of ribbons on his (or her) chest. Granted, the vast majority of soldiers, myself included, will NEVER admit that they desire awards or recognition of any kind. Personally, I don't give a crap. Let me do my job, and move out. Will I complain if I get one? No. But never will I ask for one.

On that note (rant, if you will), it is the duty of afore mentioned senior officers to ensure that the soldiers under their command are properly recognized for their achievements and service. In the military, this recognition is supposed to come in the form of awards for the soldier. Hence the proud display of vivid colors on the dress uniforms - it is a point of immense pride for soldiers, especially the younger ones, to display their achievements for all to see on the uniform of their chosen service.

You may be asking, but you said that you guys don't care...

You're right - we don't care. About the recognition for our efforts. We do not do what we do for thanks or medals or what have you. We do it for immense pride in our country, for grand sense of patriotism, and for the knowledge that when all the dust settles, we did our part.

Back to my vent -
It has become the current practice in a certain military unit that I am well acquainted with, for the senior officers, the ones who say yes or no to the request to award an individual a certain award (Army Commendation Medal - ARCOM in this case), to downgrade the recommended award to something less (Army Achievement Medal - AAM). Granted, the form used to request an award has a block on it specifically for this reason, to allow the commanders to recommend approval or disapproval and to upgrade or downgrade awards as they see fit. This is not the issue. The issue is that instead of taking the write-up of the recommended award (ARCOM), and simply saying yes or no, the commanders are making the person requesting the award re-write it, as the lesser award (AAM). For those of you unfamiliar with the military writing style, this means that an inferior request is being submitted. Not only that, when the request comes back to the soldier with the award, it shows the soldier that their immediate supervisor didn't care enough to put the effort out to write an award worthy of the soldiers service. Although not the case, it is the message that gets sent

The idea behind the commanders downgrading the award is the supervisor who was there in the field with their soldier wrote an award based on what happened while they were there, and if it gets downgraded by a higher commander, the supervisor is not the bad guy. He did the right thing by recommending the award that HE felt his soldier deserved. The soldiers see this, and know that the brigade level commanders (the ones who typically downgrade awards) are playing a political game, and usually that is why awards don't go through. Making the recommender of an award rewrite it so that the achievement listed warrant a lesser award is complete crap. The reason given to us by these commanders is this:
Soldiers that are leaving the unit (whether it is to get out of the Army, or to move to another unit) that have been awarded with an ARCOM for service in Afghanistan, and Iraq, don't need to get another ARCOM for their service BEFORE and AFTER the deployments. Some other units in the Army give out AAM's to their soldiers for coming to work every day for a set time period. This is the award that we are having to resort to giving to soldiers who have sacrificed immensely to serve this organization for years.

It is beyond the comprehension of my feeble mortal mind as to how this makes sense. All I can come up with is that the commanders at that level are afraid to own up to their bosses why so many ARCOM's are getting awarded. Somehow they feel that to award a soldier 3 ARCOM's for a 3 or 4 year stint with the unit, including 12+ months of combat and Lord knows how many other nights away from family training, is absurd, and lessens the value of the ARCOM as a whole.

I believe that if you worked your ass off, and actually did things worthy of the awards, then who the hell is the brigade commander to tell you otherwise.

This brings up another point (bear with me, I'm on a roll, although the thoughts probably aren't coherently placed in here). Why, if Soldier A recommends Soldier B for an award, do Commanders C, D, and E have to approve the request? 99% of the time, they weren't around and have absolutely zero direct knowledge of the achievements or service cited in the recommendation.

OK, enough for now. Look for installment #2 of this topic.

So Yeah...

2004-08-17T19:19:00.000-05:00

Due to an amazing friends request for my (my!) opinion of something she found interesting, I am pleased to report about Operation Truth, an attempt to bring to light and show America what it is REALLY like overseas (namely, Iraq and Afghanistan). Having served our beloved country in both countries (go 82d Airborne Division), I feel compelled to not only help promote this organization, but also to share my thoughts, feelings, and experiences. The site is scheduling its official release for the 24th of August, at a new address (needless to say, it is still under a bit of construction). I encourage all to visit this site, and to show your support for our fine fighting men and women.

Stay tuned for more releases from my psyche about a year and change overseas.

Ever have an "I'm an idiot" day?

2004-08-17T06:38:00.000-05:00

Have you ever gotten a new toy, taken it home, opened the wrapper, and went to play with it, only to find it DIDN'T WORK?

We got new printers in the office yesterday (hp laserjet 1300) and it became my duty to put them to use, as I am the resident "automation guy." Over an hour later, printer #1 had yet to print anything.

Admittedly, I am not the most technologically savvy person that ever lived. However, I have installed printers before. I do know a thing or two about computers. This episode was like a bad Sci-Fi movie, The Rise of the Office Machines, or some such nonsense. Every time I would run the install program, it would come to within moments of finishing, create a fatal error, and tell me to piss off. It finally took a 18 minute download from Hewlett Packard and another reboot to successfully pin the printer to the mat and declare myself victorious.

Today I have three more to deal with. Wish me luck