We have arrived. After many days of travel, FOB-hopping, changed time schedules and various things that fly, we made it to our home. I am high. Not in the chemically altered sense. In the sense that my lungs are saying "What's goin' on? Did the world run out of air?" We are roughly about 7,500 to 8,000 feet in elevation. High enough that just walking to chow makes you huff and puff like a fat kid opening a Ding-Dong. I use that line a lot here.
I have so much to say, since it has been so long since I have written on here. Where do I start? I know...We were roughly over Greece, when the flight attendants came to the front of the airplane and moved everyone in the bulkhead "back a few seats." RMac and I looked at each other in wonderment and then astonishment when the flight attendants asked us to put our assault packs up in the seats they had just un-occupied. "In case of fire, we don't want these at your feet." Fire?! Did she say fire?
"Is there a problem?" we asked.
"We are just taking precautions." I politely asked if she was also taking precautions against us landing on a desert island. She didn't smile. Apparently, the stablizer mechanism had failed. Oh, I shrugged, is that all? What I had failed to learn in the flight school I didn't attend was that the stablizer is what helped to steer the plane. Back to where we took off was the new course. The bags had me a little preoccupied.
"Is that crash protection?" I asked.
"Sort of." she said not smiling. Sort of? What the hell does that mean?
In any event, we landed safely at our original departure and had to spend a few days laying around doing nothing. They got us a new plane and here we are.
Since we have been here, it has been pretty good. Aside from the weirdo's lobbing metal at us from time to time, it hasn't been too bad. A side-note is that the weirdo's couldn't hit both ears with river paddles! So we are relatively safe.
On the road, it is the same as I remembered from last year. Dusty, nasty, rough and relentless on vehicles. Yesterday, I had my truck break in three major arteries that would usually sideline your car for several weeks. My brakes went out, on a hill. Apparently, the power steering hose rubbed a hole in the brake line. Oh, then a few minutes later, after I filled up the master cylinder, the power steering was acting up. Then, in about calf deep water, the engine throttle linkage broke. I had to get out to hook up the tow strap, but at least it wasn't poop. After several sessions of figuring out a good way to fix my Frankenstein, frederica came up with the idea of zip-tying the thing back together. Damndest thing is that it worked and we drover Frankie back home. Of course, Vo-Vo had a hey day with his remarks of "you could've prevented this." "You're holding up our forward progress" and so on. That's okay though, the first time things go bad with the Shockers and I will be laying in wait to pounce with the jokes.
Just for clarification, driving around here isn't like any other thing you have ever done. The best way to compare it is if you climbed in your car and drove on top of every car parked along the street. Then just for good measure and to really give you a sense of what it is like, put your car in reverse and do it again.
So, here I am...again. Another long vacation from reality and everything we know as normal. My house is a brick and semi-concrete slash dirt structure. It keeps the rain off, but that is about it. Next door is the office where our world is put together by master minds of deception and intrigue. Really, all we try to do is figure out where the weirdo's are and go find them. Talk to a few people, hand out some smiles and affection and hope that these guys like us more than they like the weirdo's. It is like really bad detective work, except that we can't understand any of them and they are way different in how they act. For example, in the US if you gave someone ten dollars, they would say "Thank you." Here, they ask" Why not twenty?" Ugh...it is frustrating at times.
Maybe Andersonville wasn't so bad...
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Back to Work
Well, I have returned from my vacation with DD and Buddah. We had a blast. We spent 10 days in Ireland travelling all around to see the sites and cities. Some of the highlights we experienced were the Ring of Kerry near Killarny, the Blarney Castle, the 5-star hotel we splurged on in Athleon and some of our Bed and Breakfasts we stayed in. We had a great time just being together on the road. Watch out for the road signs in Ireland if you go...there aren't any! We got lost a few times off the main highway. Once we arrived back in Italy from Dublin, my brother Stubb and his wife came to visit. We picked them up from the airport, dragged their jet-lagged carcasses outside and put them in my vehicle and drove them to Germany to a resort. They really were tired, but had a great time. We drove back after several days there and showed them around Italy for a while and as I went back to work, they went to Rome and visited all the sites. We really enjoyed them being here and I was especially happy since I will be going camping for a long time in the near future and wouldn't of had the opportunity to see them anytime soon.
Since coming back to work, I have only had 107 episodes of rage and anger...in 3 days. We went on vacation knowing that we would have a lot of work to do when we came back, but there are 500 gagillion tasks to complete and only so many days in the week. I have been poked, prodded, felt-up, yelled at, had ink explode on me, shot up with vaccines, ran over and flicked. That was just the first day back!
Then of course, there comes the request for lists!
"Need a list of those Soldiers who received the Flu shot from the bow-legged, blonde crew-cut, male nurse in room 7 by COB!"
My favorite request throughout this process was, "Need a list of Soldiers who are storing their cars and don't want them damaged." Who thinks these up?
We currently are engaged in ten thousand different tasks that have no end, so I will cut this short. Once we roll-out, the madness of this place will end and new madness will begin.
"Need a list of all Soldiers who don't like dust or loud noises!"
Since coming back to work, I have only had 107 episodes of rage and anger...in 3 days. We went on vacation knowing that we would have a lot of work to do when we came back, but there are 500 gagillion tasks to complete and only so many days in the week. I have been poked, prodded, felt-up, yelled at, had ink explode on me, shot up with vaccines, ran over and flicked. That was just the first day back!
Then of course, there comes the request for lists!
"Need a list of those Soldiers who received the Flu shot from the bow-legged, blonde crew-cut, male nurse in room 7 by COB!"
My favorite request throughout this process was, "Need a list of Soldiers who are storing their cars and don't want them damaged." Who thinks these up?
We currently are engaged in ten thousand different tasks that have no end, so I will cut this short. Once we roll-out, the madness of this place will end and new madness will begin.
"Need a list of all Soldiers who don't like dust or loud noises!"
Thursday, April 5, 2007
The Homecoming
Coming home from an event such as ours requires a huge level of participation on all parts. The transportation geeks need to ensure our wheels are there. The personnel folks need to make sure they know where everyone is at all times. The shooters need to have bags and baggage ready to go. The guys who stay behind need to sort trash and bullets, take down tents and so on. In my workspace, coming home doesn't quite happen that way. I'll explain...imagine a group of 20 people all in a circle facing each other. When the gun goes off, they all run toward the middle of the circle at full speed. That is how we do it here...(cue the circus music after the dustcloud).
The trip home for us was uneventful. For some, it was business as usual. One of the trailers attached to a bus caught on fire after the wheel had fallen off. Another bus broke down and tried to cross-load with another bus until the "Po-Po" showed up angry and made them get off the freeway. Another guy was locked in the bathroom on the bus as the bus sped down the freeway and the looming chance of the "blue poo juice" splashing on the guy become more real with each bump. But everyone made it home warm and dry and full of McDonalds.
We returned to work today only to find about a gagillion tasks lined up for us to do in time to go on vacation...in 24 hours. If you need me around midnight tonight, call my office. I'll be here ensuring those lists (yes those list) get accomplished.
"Need a list of the Soldiers who put regular gas in their diesel cars before you go home tonight!"
But at least we are home. I walked in the house to find everything in exact order. DD did a great job of readying things for me to come home. But...I only got to spend about 9 hours there before I came back to work. She is awesome and took it very well that all her hard work had been for nothing (I still can't hear out of my left ear from her joy.)
Home. Doesn't look a thing like Andersonville!
The trip home for us was uneventful. For some, it was business as usual. One of the trailers attached to a bus caught on fire after the wheel had fallen off. Another bus broke down and tried to cross-load with another bus until the "Po-Po" showed up angry and made them get off the freeway. Another guy was locked in the bathroom on the bus as the bus sped down the freeway and the looming chance of the "blue poo juice" splashing on the guy become more real with each bump. But everyone made it home warm and dry and full of McDonalds.
We returned to work today only to find about a gagillion tasks lined up for us to do in time to go on vacation...in 24 hours. If you need me around midnight tonight, call my office. I'll be here ensuring those lists (yes those list) get accomplished.
"Need a list of the Soldiers who put regular gas in their diesel cars before you go home tonight!"
But at least we are home. I walked in the house to find everything in exact order. DD did a great job of readying things for me to come home. But...I only got to spend about 9 hours there before I came back to work. She is awesome and took it very well that all her hard work had been for nothing (I still can't hear out of my left ear from her joy.)
Home. Doesn't look a thing like Andersonville!
Friday, March 23, 2007
"Scissors, please!"
Scissors? Why on God's green earth would I need scissors way out here? Well, sit back and I will tell you about both the Achilles heels of the finest fighting force in the world. As you are all aware, money drives everything. Money equals power in everyday society. Money equals headaches, arguments and grievances among grown men in my society. "You can have, but you cannot" is a common theme here. We are trying to outfit ourselves with quality equipment for our upcoming adventure. We are in dire need of decisions from the bosses as Father Time closes his grip around our necks and the sand in the hour glass empties. The cool kids are working feverishly to come up with the right lists of stuff. Much like a basketball player needs high-tops, we need specialty stuff too. Why scissors? To cut through the red tape that wraps us in chaos. Red tape in my line of work? Tons of it. We have three different items that we are trying to get. Each of them exactly meet our requirements, but since they don't fall in line with the idea of what is acceptable to some, the process is wrapped in red tape. Again, does it really matter what it looks like as long as it is functional? Apparently so. So, we are at an impass on what we can buy...surprise, surprise! The bad thing is that the decisions are made by people who won't even be around when we get them...oh, well.
The other heel is redundant lists. Good Lord do we make lists! List of clothing sizes, who is going on vacation and where, when they will be back, do they have a car, which sock do they put on first and what is their favorite color. Once we scramble to do these lists, disrupting the routine of over a hundred guys to complete them, we get them turned in to Guy A, who quickly figures out that this is not his responsibility to collect them, so he deletes them. About 10 minutes later, Guy B is screaming for these lists because he "has" to turn them in quickly, so we go back and do it all again. More red tape. This is where my eyeballs roll back into my head and the body hair grows again, like we talked about...
"I need a list of where everyone's 6th grade finger paintings are kept!" Sorry, I gotta go!
The other heel is redundant lists. Good Lord do we make lists! List of clothing sizes, who is going on vacation and where, when they will be back, do they have a car, which sock do they put on first and what is their favorite color. Once we scramble to do these lists, disrupting the routine of over a hundred guys to complete them, we get them turned in to Guy A, who quickly figures out that this is not his responsibility to collect them, so he deletes them. About 10 minutes later, Guy B is screaming for these lists because he "has" to turn them in quickly, so we go back and do it all again. More red tape. This is where my eyeballs roll back into my head and the body hair grows again, like we talked about...
"I need a list of where everyone's 6th grade finger paintings are kept!" Sorry, I gotta go!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Andersonville
It has been nearly a month since we said goodbye to our families and departed for some much needed training. When I left, it was hovering around 60 degrees or so and sunny, which is uncharacteristic for our region during the winter. After arriving at our destination, the weather turned on us. It has snowed, hailed, rained and has been sunny. Basically, Mother Nature is upset with us for something we have done and is throwing her worst our way. I think she called Murphy and had him throw a few punches at us as well. Tent heaters are broken, showers are cold, washers and driers don't work, mud everywhere...what those two don't realize is, this is exactly how we like it! Today, for example, it was slightly sunny when I woke up, but has now turned to snow. Oh, yeah and it is about 25 degrees outside. Perfect weather to suck in...
What is really hilarious and will make you scratch your heads in wonder is that for 4 or 5 days, the cool kids have been trying to decide what hat to wear. It is below freezing and we can't come to a decision about the most obvious choice. Baseball style hat, which offers no protection from the elements, or skiing type hat, which does. 700 Soldiers, in simulated combat conditions at night, having to look the same. Is this logical? Can you believe that we are trying to decide which is right? Some say that we are stupid for arguing when the choice is so clear, others say we are stupid for not going with "what we have always worn." You would think that educated leaders would have no problem deciding the best way, but we do! This is the part of Soldiering that absolutely drives me into a mad frenzy. My friend Dirk has labeled me "Big Angry" because when situations like this rear their heads, I go into a state where my eyeballs roll back into my head and my body hair grows a few inches in seconds and I explode; much like road rage. Just ask any of the Warrior Kings who have been on the receiving end. Not good. I didn't even need coffee during this whole thing because I was so mad, I leeched caffeine and just licked it off my arm for resupply. But is has finally been settled, much to the chagrin of many an old horse Soldier. My head is now warm.
Living together in what we now call "Andersonville" has its ups and downs. No disrespect to the original inhabitants of that terrible place in southern Georgia during the Civil War , but we have it worse. For instance, we have to eat in the mess hall (duhn, duhn, da!). Our mess hall was built by a group of locals who all have one leg shorter than the other, as it lists to the side. The downhill side. I'm not talking about a little listing, I am talking about ski run slopage. Here are some of the troubles we face. You can never, ever fill up your cup all the way as it will spill when you set it on the table. For those of you who don't like your food to touch each other, you will have troubles here. Never, ever drop your doughnut as it will spin wildly out of control and crash into the village below causing catastrophic injuries. Doughnuts have been known to reach 60 mph and maim people. The showers are absolute science labs. You must have on lab coats and PPE before showering. 12 showers for 675 to 700 people...nice! To get to the showers you have to take the A-train and the number 3 bus, then transfer to the Blue Line METRO. Once you reach the Eazy stop, you have to walk about 4 miles (bring water since there isn't any along this route). God forbid you forget your PPE! Just a few days ago, Joe Rogan was here filming our showers as an event on the most recent Fear Factor. Four of the couples on the show failed to complete this task and were eliminated...that is how cold it is. My "hootch" is leaking and cold. Sleeping under this tarp is like throwing a garbage bag over a spike strip. Or, as my friend Mell says, "like Chewbacca living with the Ewoks...it don't make no damn sense!"
We get to go home in a little while. Home, what most of us have called the Middle East on and off for the past 5 years. Reality is that we just go home long enough to kiss the wife, noogie the kids and re-pack our gear. I will never, ever call "Andersonville" home.
What is really hilarious and will make you scratch your heads in wonder is that for 4 or 5 days, the cool kids have been trying to decide what hat to wear. It is below freezing and we can't come to a decision about the most obvious choice. Baseball style hat, which offers no protection from the elements, or skiing type hat, which does. 700 Soldiers, in simulated combat conditions at night, having to look the same. Is this logical? Can you believe that we are trying to decide which is right? Some say that we are stupid for arguing when the choice is so clear, others say we are stupid for not going with "what we have always worn." You would think that educated leaders would have no problem deciding the best way, but we do! This is the part of Soldiering that absolutely drives me into a mad frenzy. My friend Dirk has labeled me "Big Angry" because when situations like this rear their heads, I go into a state where my eyeballs roll back into my head and my body hair grows a few inches in seconds and I explode; much like road rage. Just ask any of the Warrior Kings who have been on the receiving end. Not good. I didn't even need coffee during this whole thing because I was so mad, I leeched caffeine and just licked it off my arm for resupply. But is has finally been settled, much to the chagrin of many an old horse Soldier. My head is now warm.
Living together in what we now call "Andersonville" has its ups and downs. No disrespect to the original inhabitants of that terrible place in southern Georgia during the Civil War , but we have it worse. For instance, we have to eat in the mess hall (duhn, duhn, da!). Our mess hall was built by a group of locals who all have one leg shorter than the other, as it lists to the side. The downhill side. I'm not talking about a little listing, I am talking about ski run slopage. Here are some of the troubles we face. You can never, ever fill up your cup all the way as it will spill when you set it on the table. For those of you who don't like your food to touch each other, you will have troubles here. Never, ever drop your doughnut as it will spin wildly out of control and crash into the village below causing catastrophic injuries. Doughnuts have been known to reach 60 mph and maim people. The showers are absolute science labs. You must have on lab coats and PPE before showering. 12 showers for 675 to 700 people...nice! To get to the showers you have to take the A-train and the number 3 bus, then transfer to the Blue Line METRO. Once you reach the Eazy stop, you have to walk about 4 miles (bring water since there isn't any along this route). God forbid you forget your PPE! Just a few days ago, Joe Rogan was here filming our showers as an event on the most recent Fear Factor. Four of the couples on the show failed to complete this task and were eliminated...that is how cold it is. My "hootch" is leaking and cold. Sleeping under this tarp is like throwing a garbage bag over a spike strip. Or, as my friend Mell says, "like Chewbacca living with the Ewoks...it don't make no damn sense!"
We get to go home in a little while. Home, what most of us have called the Middle East on and off for the past 5 years. Reality is that we just go home long enough to kiss the wife, noogie the kids and re-pack our gear. I will never, ever call "Andersonville" home.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
The Team
I think it is important to introduce you to my Team members that I work with everyday. Some are hard-charging, cold-hearted Warriors and others are somewhat "fluffier." All of them are great guys and I have absolutely no qualms about going to combat with them. They all have little ticks that make them unique and I am sure after this, you will want to have a beer and hang out with them. Let me show you an example...
One night, while in a restaurant in Rome, Italy, we were having a nice dinner with some of these guys, a few armed national Police officers, my former boss' sister and her friend and a couple of college girls that were invited by a former Team member. After a few rounds of pasta and wine (I think the count was 22 people and 16 bottles of wine), we of course got loud. The Police got more embarrassed as we got louder and louder. Finally, the evening ended and I grabbed my boss, who was tanked, grabbed my logisitical guy, tanked as well and headed off into Campo di Fiori to another bar. One of the young ladies mentioned to another that we were absolutely crazy and she couldn't understand "what was wrong with us and why we acted so terribly." The second young lady looked her in the eye (my boss' sister) and said "Do you know who the guys are that climb through the mountains and kill the enemy?" The first young lady said, "yeah, why?" "That's them!" the sister said.
The first Team member I should introduce is SMac. He used to be the man in charge of the Team, but has since been summoned to the palace to think stuff up. A true professional and absolute concrete leader of armed men. He took this Team to new heights and I owe so much to him for his bossiness. He and I went through alot together (mostly 12-packs of Heffe Wiezens) and is a true friend. He is soon off to bigger and better things and I wish him all the luck in the world.
The Blind Mice consist of 20-somethings who are like newborns. They still think they are college students and have such a terrific advantage being in fantastic locations, such as ours. They are open, honest, egostistical, fit and drunkards who can party all night (but still sleep alone) and come and kick ass everyday. I feel like "dad" to most of them and sleep sound knowing they have my back.
The Warrior Kings are the roughest, nastiest bunch of ass kickers on earth. Born to do what they do, they are the best at it and excel every day. They are the sculptors of young men and at the same time they are wise and offer counsel, wisdom, punishment and reward all in a days work. There are three and they go at each other like lions after a lame gazelle. It makes them better at what they do. Vo-Vo is a motorcycle racer who spends enormous amounts of cash on bike parts. He has an awesome side-kick that keeps him in line when he sleeps at home. "The head" is a young man who has seen a lot. He is brash, full of piss and vinegar, dedicated and hard on the lambs. Plus, he has the biggest head on earth! Frederica is country as they come. Born and raised in Hell, he works on the leftovers from the Energizer Bunny. His claim to fame is onions. Lots and lots of onions...his farts are worse than dead rhino guts baked in the sun. The best of the three? I wouldn't even chance pitting them against each other in a poll. All of them should be paraded around for what they do everyday.
The newest member of the Team now has the CON. He comes from the land of the eight roller and has extensive experience. He is smart, funny, fits right in to the Team and you will hear more about him as we progress.
The remainder of the Team range from dullards to superstars. Warriors to ass-clowns. But, I guarantee you have never seen a group of individuals with this type of desire or a stronger work ethic. They live every day to defend freedom. It is their calling and their responsibility. Sleep well, for the members of this Team are ready and you are safe.
One night, while in a restaurant in Rome, Italy, we were having a nice dinner with some of these guys, a few armed national Police officers, my former boss' sister and her friend and a couple of college girls that were invited by a former Team member. After a few rounds of pasta and wine (I think the count was 22 people and 16 bottles of wine), we of course got loud. The Police got more embarrassed as we got louder and louder. Finally, the evening ended and I grabbed my boss, who was tanked, grabbed my logisitical guy, tanked as well and headed off into Campo di Fiori to another bar. One of the young ladies mentioned to another that we were absolutely crazy and she couldn't understand "what was wrong with us and why we acted so terribly." The second young lady looked her in the eye (my boss' sister) and said "Do you know who the guys are that climb through the mountains and kill the enemy?" The first young lady said, "yeah, why?" "That's them!" the sister said.
The first Team member I should introduce is SMac. He used to be the man in charge of the Team, but has since been summoned to the palace to think stuff up. A true professional and absolute concrete leader of armed men. He took this Team to new heights and I owe so much to him for his bossiness. He and I went through alot together (mostly 12-packs of Heffe Wiezens) and is a true friend. He is soon off to bigger and better things and I wish him all the luck in the world.
The Blind Mice consist of 20-somethings who are like newborns. They still think they are college students and have such a terrific advantage being in fantastic locations, such as ours. They are open, honest, egostistical, fit and drunkards who can party all night (but still sleep alone) and come and kick ass everyday. I feel like "dad" to most of them and sleep sound knowing they have my back.
The Warrior Kings are the roughest, nastiest bunch of ass kickers on earth. Born to do what they do, they are the best at it and excel every day. They are the sculptors of young men and at the same time they are wise and offer counsel, wisdom, punishment and reward all in a days work. There are three and they go at each other like lions after a lame gazelle. It makes them better at what they do. Vo-Vo is a motorcycle racer who spends enormous amounts of cash on bike parts. He has an awesome side-kick that keeps him in line when he sleeps at home. "The head" is a young man who has seen a lot. He is brash, full of piss and vinegar, dedicated and hard on the lambs. Plus, he has the biggest head on earth! Frederica is country as they come. Born and raised in Hell, he works on the leftovers from the Energizer Bunny. His claim to fame is onions. Lots and lots of onions...his farts are worse than dead rhino guts baked in the sun. The best of the three? I wouldn't even chance pitting them against each other in a poll. All of them should be paraded around for what they do everyday.
The newest member of the Team now has the CON. He comes from the land of the eight roller and has extensive experience. He is smart, funny, fits right in to the Team and you will hear more about him as we progress.
The remainder of the Team range from dullards to superstars. Warriors to ass-clowns. But, I guarantee you have never seen a group of individuals with this type of desire or a stronger work ethic. They live every day to defend freedom. It is their calling and their responsibility. Sleep well, for the members of this Team are ready and you are safe.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
One Soldiers Opinion
So I was a little anxious to get started and after my introduction I thought "why not write again?" As I said in Mission, I am a Soldier serving in faraway places...that could mean anywhere, so don't assume anything. I have been a Soldier for a long time and have witnessed my profession change numerous times. I am in the active Army and some of my comments and acronyms may be new to some, so I will try and explain as best I can. One of the numerous reasons I am doing this is to encourage others to reply to my posts with educated responses directed at learning your profession and sharing with others. I have extensive knowledge of the Army and want very badly to see it change for the better both during and after the GWOT (Global War on Terror) is over.
Let's start with the GWOT and the numerous challenges facing us currently and in the near future. First, the GWOT will eventually end and professional Soldiers who are "deployment Leaders" will force this Army into serious disrepair. We must be exceptional at leading in each environment or those "deployment Leaders" will become liabilities in the future. Secondly, our mindset is still in the 1990's. We do year-long rotation's over and over again, yet during training, we try and reinvent the wheel on everything we do. We start our training at a snail's pace and by the end of the training cycle, we are back to the level from where we redeployed. We must advance. We have smart, adaptive junior leaders who absolutely excel in the combat environment, but are leashed by some senior leaders who still believe in the "discipline means we all look the same" mentality. This must end. Discipline is subjective and probably always has been, but the school house mentality has reared its head during the GWOT. Discipline, to me, doesn't mean that the Soldiers look the same; it means that when told to shoot, they put all their training into action and kill the bad guy who is trying to kill them. Third, give us the required equipment to do our jobs. Soldiers buy equipment from online vendors because they either don't have it or can get better stuff from civilian stores. Afghanistan is at the foot of the most rugged mountain chain in the world...the Himalayas. Our equipment is made by the lowest bidder and is made for desert warfare. News Flash!!! We aren't fighting in the desert very much there anymore. We have more Soldiers in the north and east, in the Hindu Kush mountains on foot, than in the desert south. Iraq is different...patrolling in vehicles isn't humping the mountains, so the current Army gear works there in most instances...not all. But, "big Army" is "one-for-all-and-all-for-one" and Soldiers in Afghanistan are getting the same equipment as those in Iraq. Hmmm....
In the past year, our Secretary of Defense (SECDEF) Rumsfeld has resigned, as has the Secretary of the Army Harvey and the Central Command (CENTCOM) Commander (and arguably the finest General officer in many, many years) GEN Abizaid has submitted his retirement paperwork without much fanfare (some say over his disgust of Iraq). What does this say to the Soldiers about the status of our Army? To me it says "Get out before the utter failure of our decisions weighs us down." Is that the big Army message? If so, what about the little people? Am I offered a chance to "pop smoke" before it snowballs downhill and runs me over? Of course not.
I don't want you to think I am being negative about the Army overall. I love the Army and what I do everyday. I get a chance to see young men, who enlist during a time of war, fully knowing they are to be put in harms way, fighting the enemies of the US in full-up gunfights. Unbelievable courage and honor spew from these Warriors. After some horrible exeriences, they head back to the FOB (forward operating base) and talk shit to each other and laugh like school kids. Many are wounded and horribly disfigured but still support their buddy's in the field. Young men, who have more on their plates than I did as a young Soldier, volunteer for the toughest of training and beg for more. These are incredible young men who deserve everything we have to offer and we do our best to deliver it to them everyday.
When all is said and done, and I am retired and fat, I want to look into the mirror each morning with the midset that I gave everything I had to the Army. I want to feel honor, not just remember it, but taste it everyday. I want one Soldier to remember what I taught him and when he is where I am, tell his young Soldiers that his old boss taught how to be a Soldier. If that happens, I will know success.
Let's start with the GWOT and the numerous challenges facing us currently and in the near future. First, the GWOT will eventually end and professional Soldiers who are "deployment Leaders" will force this Army into serious disrepair. We must be exceptional at leading in each environment or those "deployment Leaders" will become liabilities in the future. Secondly, our mindset is still in the 1990's. We do year-long rotation's over and over again, yet during training, we try and reinvent the wheel on everything we do. We start our training at a snail's pace and by the end of the training cycle, we are back to the level from where we redeployed. We must advance. We have smart, adaptive junior leaders who absolutely excel in the combat environment, but are leashed by some senior leaders who still believe in the "discipline means we all look the same" mentality. This must end. Discipline is subjective and probably always has been, but the school house mentality has reared its head during the GWOT. Discipline, to me, doesn't mean that the Soldiers look the same; it means that when told to shoot, they put all their training into action and kill the bad guy who is trying to kill them. Third, give us the required equipment to do our jobs. Soldiers buy equipment from online vendors because they either don't have it or can get better stuff from civilian stores. Afghanistan is at the foot of the most rugged mountain chain in the world...the Himalayas. Our equipment is made by the lowest bidder and is made for desert warfare. News Flash!!! We aren't fighting in the desert very much there anymore. We have more Soldiers in the north and east, in the Hindu Kush mountains on foot, than in the desert south. Iraq is different...patrolling in vehicles isn't humping the mountains, so the current Army gear works there in most instances...not all. But, "big Army" is "one-for-all-and-all-for-one" and Soldiers in Afghanistan are getting the same equipment as those in Iraq. Hmmm....
In the past year, our Secretary of Defense (SECDEF) Rumsfeld has resigned, as has the Secretary of the Army Harvey and the Central Command (CENTCOM) Commander (and arguably the finest General officer in many, many years) GEN Abizaid has submitted his retirement paperwork without much fanfare (some say over his disgust of Iraq). What does this say to the Soldiers about the status of our Army? To me it says "Get out before the utter failure of our decisions weighs us down." Is that the big Army message? If so, what about the little people? Am I offered a chance to "pop smoke" before it snowballs downhill and runs me over? Of course not.
I don't want you to think I am being negative about the Army overall. I love the Army and what I do everyday. I get a chance to see young men, who enlist during a time of war, fully knowing they are to be put in harms way, fighting the enemies of the US in full-up gunfights. Unbelievable courage and honor spew from these Warriors. After some horrible exeriences, they head back to the FOB (forward operating base) and talk shit to each other and laugh like school kids. Many are wounded and horribly disfigured but still support their buddy's in the field. Young men, who have more on their plates than I did as a young Soldier, volunteer for the toughest of training and beg for more. These are incredible young men who deserve everything we have to offer and we do our best to deliver it to them everyday.
When all is said and done, and I am retired and fat, I want to look into the mirror each morning with the midset that I gave everything I had to the Army. I want to feel honor, not just remember it, but taste it everyday. I want one Soldier to remember what I taught him and when he is where I am, tell his young Soldiers that his old boss taught how to be a Soldier. If that happens, I will know success.
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