1327hrs, 20 Sept 2011:
I've finished the requisite paperwork, packed all of my belongings, signed out with the AMEDD Center & School, enjoyed a final breakfast with some close friends and a final lunch with mom & dad, and am now seated at a computer in the USO at SATX Airport. In roughly 2 hours, I will be airborne headed towards...home. That place where you, "hang your hat," where, "your heart is," where, "you long to be." Nothing could be more true in my case. Home...I love the sound of that. To my beautiful ladies who have soldiered through 70 days of making it without me, I'm coming home to you. See you soon, my angels...I love you dearly and can't wait to hold you in my arms when I arrive!
To mom and dad, my life-long support system: you've never failed to completely support my family and me in any endeavor, through thin or flush. I, we, all love and appreciate you dearly. You have made my time here completely more tolerable and enjoyable. Can't wait to see you at birthday/Halloween time. Thank you, God bless, and I love you.
To the extended family and friends at home, I am eternally grateful for you helping out with the lovely ladies I had to leave behind. I know you did more than I ever heard about, so thank you. In the future, there will certainly be longer periods of time when I will be away. I trust you and rely on you to watch over my family in my absence. Thank you for all you've done and will do...I am eternally grateful.
And, one final time, to my dear new colleagues and friends from BOLC 11-115, especially those from my beloved 6th Platoon/"6-Pack + 1," you are all more dear to me than you will ever know. When so many of you prior service folks told us newbies that you have never gotten so close to a group of fellow soldiers in such as short amount of time, I am convinced that what we shared these past few months was truly unique and special. Ups and downs aside, you all made me feel welcome, successful, proud, and comfortable through every aspect of our training. And in our down time, I can't recall a time in recent memory when I had so much fun! Whether it was a Friday movie, a Tuesday "Wii Glee" episode, a game of hearts or spades at Bullis, or a random Toga party, it was all exceptionally fun and filled with memories. You will all remain in my heart eternally, and I'll see you down-range.
To a few specific people:
Sussman: I will forever be able to "RTFU" because of you; thank you, it means a lot! Peace.
Tomlinson: God be with you in your upcoming journey; I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Peace.
Perkins: Take care of that beautiful little girl; you are a genuinely good man and I am better for having lived with you these many weeks. Peace.
And to my beloved "6 Pack + 1":
Turner: I know how hard it has been and is about to be so soon in your Army career, but if anyone can whether the storm with grace and success, it is you. Be safe down-range; I'll miss you. Peace.
Welch: Keep that magnificent sense of humor and innocence. You are an exceptional person and will make a superb nurse. I miss you already; have fun in Germany ("Ya, mon!"). Peace.
Shep: Holy S#!t! You sir, are the craziest sonnamagun I have ever met, but I love you for your humor, sincerity, guidance, and friendship. These past days have been empty without you. Take care of that beautiful boy when he arrives, and remember that "Matthew Lawrence" is a great name for him! Peace.
Smith: Innocence, chivalry, humor and flatulence: the four great qualities of my dear friend Matticus! Any time I run over an Afghan, I will think of you, my friend. Peace.
Valdivieso: My sweet friend, you have been my guiding hand throughout our time together. Our friendship will remain special to me for years to come. Nothing more can be said that hasn't been said already. Peace.
Simpkins: The founder of the feast, the leader of the clan, the teacher, the instigator, "the man." I am grateful for your friendship and leadership. You will remain the inspiration of my Army efforts for years to come. Be safe down-range; I pray our paths cross again soon. Noah is a lucky boy to have you in his life. Peace.
So, for one final time to 6th Platoon/"6 Pack + 1," I say I love you, I miss you, "I got you (a la Quinn)," and a big ol' Tee Hee HEE!!
Girlies...I'm coming home with open arms. See you soon.
With eternal love, gratitude, and a touch of sadness, I sign off one last time from San Antonio. Take care, God bless, and as always...
Peace.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Choppers and casualties...
At the end of my last post, I made a promise to you to write again "tomorrow" to fill in the rest of the information about our final week in the field. Well, tomorrow turned in to the next day, then the next, etc., so my apologies again for the delay. But hey...here I am now. Let’s get started.
The final week at Camp Bullis was, in fact, my favorite of the three. It lasted only three days, but each day was unique and thrilling. Our task was to put into practice all we had thus learned regarding the first 3 levels of combat casualty care. On Monday, my group was tasked to provide Role 3 care; in essence, to man a combat support hospital. The CSH consists of a village-sized tent system that houses everything from operating rooms and trauma centers to mess halls and barracks. My responsibility this day was to act as RTO (radio officer...never heard what the "T" stands for!). I coordinated the flow of the incoming ambulances and CasEvac trucks...cool stuff. The only problem was that my call sign was "Band Aid 1," not butch enough for my taste!
Tuesday was, far and away, my favorite day! I actually got to do something that, A) I never thought I would be required to do, and B) I never thought I would have the opportunity to do. Tuesday was our turn to man a Role 1 facility, the most forward and austere of organized casualty care. The main purpose of Role 1 is to assess, stabilize, and MedEvac casualties to the appropriate ascending level of care. While this was, in and of itself, exciting enough, we were treated to additional training by having an actual Dustoff Blackhawk on-hand...we just happened to luck out and be the group that got to work with/on it! After setting up our Role 1 location (in a grove of trees in a remote part of Bullis), and treating our "casualties" wounds, the Dustoff made its approach and landed in our LZ. It was my honor to lead one of the litter teams across the open ground and load our stretcher-borne patient onto the idling chopper. Yes it was a simulated situation, but when you have rotor blades blasting past your head, exhaust smell in your nose, an aircrew giving you directions, and an actual human being on your litter, it was as close to real as possible. Truly visceral and totally thrilling, it was the fulfillment of a dream born of watching waaay too many episodes of M*A*S*H! (And on the convoy back, my truck crew experienced what I consider to be the funniest episode of the FTX, but it’s not fit to print here in the blog. If you want to know, speak to me privately! Let’s just say it involves M-16s, smoke grenades, and some of our superiors hiding in the woods!)
The final day was a true challenge. I came into it looking forward to our tasks, but was sorely disappointed one the ball was rolling. Today was Role 2 day; if I am deployed with my unit, the 848th Forward Surgical Team, this is where we will be put to work. When assigning tasks for the day, I promptly volunteered to work with the mock-FST to get some hands-on experience. I was granted to opportunity to do so, and gratefully began the tasks at hand. About 10 minutes into the 3-hour exercise, however, the lead instructor decided to throw a massive monkey wrench into the works and reassign each person to a new position. For me: I went from lowly a FST 70B to the XO (executive officer) of the entire facility. HOLY CRAP! I should be flattered at the massive promotion (still waiting to see the pay increase, though), but the XO, in essence, is in direct control of every operational aspect of the facility. I found myself ass-deep in patient tracking efforts, MedEvac requests, mass cal treatments (apparently the facility got hit by some mysterious artillery fire...never heard it coming, myself!), and resupply needs just to name a few. In three hours, we treated over 60 patients...not too shabby if I may say so myself! The most difficult ones were our psych patients: if not watched by hospital personnel at all times, they were instructed to run amok around the hospital, try to steal our weapons, and cause mayhem whenever possible. One of them tried to attack our command post and erase our patient tracking board, but our security force got him under control...thank goodness!
Later that evening, we gladly boarded the buses and returned to Ft. Sam for the final time. We decompressed for the night, turned in our field equipment on Thursday morning, then in the afternoon rehearsed for our graduation the following week. Friday morning I had the pleasure of flying home to Cincy for a much-needed Labor Day visit home! I loved spending some time with my ladies back home, but the time passed much too quickly. I flew back to Ft. Sam on Monday, participated in our Phase III graduation on Tuesday, and began my job-specific track training on Wednesday. I'll report on those activities next time we speak.
I'm thrilled to report that my class is down to only 5 days left on post. I'll be returning home on the evening of 20 Sept., and I look forward to seeing everyone when I get back. I'll keep working through the remaining challenges, and will have a couple more posts for you before I head out of here. For now, be good to yourselves and each other, check in on the ladies, and I wish all of you...
Peace.
The final week at Camp Bullis was, in fact, my favorite of the three. It lasted only three days, but each day was unique and thrilling. Our task was to put into practice all we had thus learned regarding the first 3 levels of combat casualty care. On Monday, my group was tasked to provide Role 3 care; in essence, to man a combat support hospital. The CSH consists of a village-sized tent system that houses everything from operating rooms and trauma centers to mess halls and barracks. My responsibility this day was to act as RTO (radio officer...never heard what the "T" stands for!). I coordinated the flow of the incoming ambulances and CasEvac trucks...cool stuff. The only problem was that my call sign was "Band Aid 1," not butch enough for my taste!
Tuesday was, far and away, my favorite day! I actually got to do something that, A) I never thought I would be required to do, and B) I never thought I would have the opportunity to do. Tuesday was our turn to man a Role 1 facility, the most forward and austere of organized casualty care. The main purpose of Role 1 is to assess, stabilize, and MedEvac casualties to the appropriate ascending level of care. While this was, in and of itself, exciting enough, we were treated to additional training by having an actual Dustoff Blackhawk on-hand...we just happened to luck out and be the group that got to work with/on it! After setting up our Role 1 location (in a grove of trees in a remote part of Bullis), and treating our "casualties" wounds, the Dustoff made its approach and landed in our LZ. It was my honor to lead one of the litter teams across the open ground and load our stretcher-borne patient onto the idling chopper. Yes it was a simulated situation, but when you have rotor blades blasting past your head, exhaust smell in your nose, an aircrew giving you directions, and an actual human being on your litter, it was as close to real as possible. Truly visceral and totally thrilling, it was the fulfillment of a dream born of watching waaay too many episodes of M*A*S*H! (And on the convoy back, my truck crew experienced what I consider to be the funniest episode of the FTX, but it’s not fit to print here in the blog. If you want to know, speak to me privately! Let’s just say it involves M-16s, smoke grenades, and some of our superiors hiding in the woods!)
The final day was a true challenge. I came into it looking forward to our tasks, but was sorely disappointed one the ball was rolling. Today was Role 2 day; if I am deployed with my unit, the 848th Forward Surgical Team, this is where we will be put to work. When assigning tasks for the day, I promptly volunteered to work with the mock-FST to get some hands-on experience. I was granted to opportunity to do so, and gratefully began the tasks at hand. About 10 minutes into the 3-hour exercise, however, the lead instructor decided to throw a massive monkey wrench into the works and reassign each person to a new position. For me: I went from lowly a FST 70B to the XO (executive officer) of the entire facility. HOLY CRAP! I should be flattered at the massive promotion (still waiting to see the pay increase, though), but the XO, in essence, is in direct control of every operational aspect of the facility. I found myself ass-deep in patient tracking efforts, MedEvac requests, mass cal treatments (apparently the facility got hit by some mysterious artillery fire...never heard it coming, myself!), and resupply needs just to name a few. In three hours, we treated over 60 patients...not too shabby if I may say so myself! The most difficult ones were our psych patients: if not watched by hospital personnel at all times, they were instructed to run amok around the hospital, try to steal our weapons, and cause mayhem whenever possible. One of them tried to attack our command post and erase our patient tracking board, but our security force got him under control...thank goodness!
Later that evening, we gladly boarded the buses and returned to Ft. Sam for the final time. We decompressed for the night, turned in our field equipment on Thursday morning, then in the afternoon rehearsed for our graduation the following week. Friday morning I had the pleasure of flying home to Cincy for a much-needed Labor Day visit home! I loved spending some time with my ladies back home, but the time passed much too quickly. I flew back to Ft. Sam on Monday, participated in our Phase III graduation on Tuesday, and began my job-specific track training on Wednesday. I'll report on those activities next time we speak.
I'm thrilled to report that my class is down to only 5 days left on post. I'll be returning home on the evening of 20 Sept., and I look forward to seeing everyone when I get back. I'll keep working through the remaining challenges, and will have a couple more posts for you before I head out of here. For now, be good to yourselves and each other, check in on the ladies, and I wish all of you...
Peace.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
A sweeping summary...
Due to one set of circumstances or another, it has been nearly two weeks since my previous post. We have been extremely busy with our FTX tasks and, as of today, outprocessing and Phase 3 graduation, so forgive my tardiness! I'll do my best to summarize the past weeks as vividly and succinctly as possible.
Week 2 of our FTX promised to be, for me at least, the busiest and most stressful week. You see, as part of our training we had to participate in a simulated combat convoy...and I was given the job of convoy commander. So, while also completing the other tasks required of us this week (land navigation, warrior leader tasks, 9mm pistol qualification, etc.), I spent countless hours picking the brains of my dear friends and comrades as to what to expect on the convoy, how to organize our available personnel, and what nuggets of wisdom were necessary to a successful convoy operation. When the day of the convoy rolled around, we were informed that our team would roll out of the FOB at 1230hrs. In the morning, we would participate in HEAT and VCCT training. HEAT is, without embellishment, a mock-up of a HMMWV (that's a Hummer in regular-speak) placed on a large rotisserie. Four students strap into the seats, and are rolled over 4-6 times (depending upon how demonic the instructor is feeling at that particular time). The body ends up either upside down or on its side, and it is now your responsibility to escape from the "wreckage" as quickly and safely as possible. For me, being 75" tall and about as limber as an oak tree, this was a challenge. I somehow managed to get out of my seat belt and flip myself upright, but unfortunately got my helmet stuck between my seat and the radio stack!! With a few good pushes from my battle buddies, I dislodged myself and opened the door to emerge shortly thereafter. The moral of the story is this: for a man that no longer likes to go on upside-down roller coasters, this was not the best way to start such a stressful day...a mammoth headache ensued for the remainder of the week!
VCCT is the Virtual Combat Convoy Trainer, and it is exactly as it sounds: a computer-based convoy simulator complete with vehicles, weapons, and computerized enemies. Most of this training went very well, except for when I told my turret gunner to fire on four vehicles that came driving straight for our truck. He "lit up" all four, but we were promptly informed by the controller that these were harmless civilian vehicles and we could now expect fierce resistance for the remainder of the exercise. Oops...my bad. Lesson learned. However, I must give big props to our truck driver, whom we call "Matticus": when confronted by an insurgent on our 12 o'clock and no more ammo in the turret, Matticus took matters into his own hands and simply ran over our attacker (this action was confirmed to us when the truck simulator made a satisfying "bump-bump" as we drove over him!! Priceless!).
After our ride back to the FOB and a very hasty lunch, our team armed up and mounted the vehicles for our live-fire convoy. We experienced IEDs, mortar fire, ambushes, casualties, disabled vehicles, broken communications, and MEDEVAC and LZ tasks...all "simulated," of course. But the tangible and tactile nature of the exercise made it quite real to me in the commander's seat. I learned a big lesson in managing personnel, trusting your teammates, and following your gut instinct. While we did not emerge from the exercise unscathed (we had one disabled truck and 7 casualties), we were greatly complimented by the instructors on our communication and teamwork...the essence of the lesson to be learned. And, to my great satisfaction, I was considered to be an, "excellent convoy commander," by our lead instructor. What a terrifying, edifying, and electrifying experience...it will not be soon forgotten!
This particular edition of the Bugle has gone on long enough. I will take my leave for now, as there are a few homework assignments that need my attention. I will be back with you tomorrow to wrap up the story of FTX with a Week 3 edition. For now, I ask for your continued vigilance over my lovely ladies back at home. I truly miss them, and am counting the remaining 14 days before my return home. I love them dearly, as I do all of you. Take care, God bless, and, as always...
Peace.
Week 2 of our FTX promised to be, for me at least, the busiest and most stressful week. You see, as part of our training we had to participate in a simulated combat convoy...and I was given the job of convoy commander. So, while also completing the other tasks required of us this week (land navigation, warrior leader tasks, 9mm pistol qualification, etc.), I spent countless hours picking the brains of my dear friends and comrades as to what to expect on the convoy, how to organize our available personnel, and what nuggets of wisdom were necessary to a successful convoy operation. When the day of the convoy rolled around, we were informed that our team would roll out of the FOB at 1230hrs. In the morning, we would participate in HEAT and VCCT training. HEAT is, without embellishment, a mock-up of a HMMWV (that's a Hummer in regular-speak) placed on a large rotisserie. Four students strap into the seats, and are rolled over 4-6 times (depending upon how demonic the instructor is feeling at that particular time). The body ends up either upside down or on its side, and it is now your responsibility to escape from the "wreckage" as quickly and safely as possible. For me, being 75" tall and about as limber as an oak tree, this was a challenge. I somehow managed to get out of my seat belt and flip myself upright, but unfortunately got my helmet stuck between my seat and the radio stack!! With a few good pushes from my battle buddies, I dislodged myself and opened the door to emerge shortly thereafter. The moral of the story is this: for a man that no longer likes to go on upside-down roller coasters, this was not the best way to start such a stressful day...a mammoth headache ensued for the remainder of the week!
VCCT is the Virtual Combat Convoy Trainer, and it is exactly as it sounds: a computer-based convoy simulator complete with vehicles, weapons, and computerized enemies. Most of this training went very well, except for when I told my turret gunner to fire on four vehicles that came driving straight for our truck. He "lit up" all four, but we were promptly informed by the controller that these were harmless civilian vehicles and we could now expect fierce resistance for the remainder of the exercise. Oops...my bad. Lesson learned. However, I must give big props to our truck driver, whom we call "Matticus": when confronted by an insurgent on our 12 o'clock and no more ammo in the turret, Matticus took matters into his own hands and simply ran over our attacker (this action was confirmed to us when the truck simulator made a satisfying "bump-bump" as we drove over him!! Priceless!).
After our ride back to the FOB and a very hasty lunch, our team armed up and mounted the vehicles for our live-fire convoy. We experienced IEDs, mortar fire, ambushes, casualties, disabled vehicles, broken communications, and MEDEVAC and LZ tasks...all "simulated," of course. But the tangible and tactile nature of the exercise made it quite real to me in the commander's seat. I learned a big lesson in managing personnel, trusting your teammates, and following your gut instinct. While we did not emerge from the exercise unscathed (we had one disabled truck and 7 casualties), we were greatly complimented by the instructors on our communication and teamwork...the essence of the lesson to be learned. And, to my great satisfaction, I was considered to be an, "excellent convoy commander," by our lead instructor. What a terrifying, edifying, and electrifying experience...it will not be soon forgotten!
This particular edition of the Bugle has gone on long enough. I will take my leave for now, as there are a few homework assignments that need my attention. I will be back with you tomorrow to wrap up the story of FTX with a Week 3 edition. For now, I ask for your continued vigilance over my lovely ladies back at home. I truly miss them, and am counting the remaining 14 days before my return home. I love them dearly, as I do all of you. Take care, God bless, and, as always...
Peace.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Guns in the Potty...
If I recollect correctly, there is a certain type of middle-aged man that pays a company an exceptional amount of money for a one-week "vacation" during which he is immersed in quasi-realistic military scenarios, complete with live ammunition, vast desert landscapes, indigenous wildlife, exotic insect encounters, and spartan accommodations. What a fool...he needn't pay anybody a single cent. In fact, if he would only join the US Army, he could actually get PAID to participate in such experiences! This is exactly what my dear colleagues and I were able to experience this past week...this and so much more!
I have no intention of complaining about any of the above-mentioned activities or conditions, especially considering each one was designed to teach us some facet of Army doctrine. Each one was developed because of past experiences or current conditions faced by our comrades. Many, many soldiers, airmen, Marines, and sailors are dealing with the real-life repercussions of these lessons learned. So please do not think this post is a rant on the "sacrifices" we have to make during our field training. Rather, this is just a tongue-in-cheek retrospective of a rather adventurous week.
On Monday evening at 5:30pm, the entire company (including 110 additional short-course reservists, for a total of 501 personnel) boarded "air conditioned" buses (ha!) and rode out to the site of our field training exercises (FTXs), Camp Bullis. For the duration of our three week-long FTXs, we would be housed on the FOB (Forward Operating Base). We were very fortunate to be housed in "hooches" with air conditioning (with the caveat that it could not be turned on until the training day was over at 5:00pm). MREs were usually the order of the day for our lunches, with a hot breakfast and dinner shipped in from the dining facility 5 miles away. Admittedly, I was more excited about the MREs than te hot meals for two reasons: one, they tasted better, and two, they all were made by the Wornick Co. in Cincinnati. I made sure everyone on the FOB knew that these were not true representations of Cincinnati cuisine, but I'm not sure they really cared at that point!
The main activities for the week consisted of learning several of the skills which will be tested in the FTX beginning tomorrow morning. These included land navigation, medevac requests, movement training, and weapons familiarization and qualification. I am happy to report that I was able to successfully zero my M-16 and qualifiy as a Marksman with a score of 23 out of 40 targets hit (this doesn't sound terribly impressive, but I assure you it was not as easy as it sounds! We can discuss at another time...)
A word on the M-16: you never, ever, ever go anywhere without it! On the grounds of a major safety violation, your M-16 goes with you everywhere: to the rifle range, to the chow line, to class, to bed, even to the latrine (which, in the case of the FOB consists of 40 Port-o-Potties for 501 people for 1 week...smells great in the Texas sun!!). When we finally locked up our weapons for the weekend and returned to Ft. Sam, I had a moment of panic when I used the toilet in my room and didn't have my M-16 next to me! Even worse, I forgot to flush the can...at least for a moment! Taking an armed dump in a honeypot for a week really messes up your sense of personal decency!!
The week went pretty well, and except for an almost exclusive sense of isolation (due to very poor cell phone reception), was pretty enjoyable. I consumed, on average, 1.5 to 2 gallons of water and Gatorade per day, and usually only peed twice. I was able to text the ladies for a few minutes in the evening, and even got in a few workouts in the extemporary gym on the FOB. I haven't weighed myself yet, but I'm certain there was some serious weight loss that took place last week...more on the when I'm able to post again next weekend.
Well my dear friends, I bid you all adieu for now. I have to repack my duffle and ruck sack for our 0500 departure back to the FOB tomorrow morning. I look forward to posting again next weekend. In the meantime, keep my girlies in your thoughts, plans, and prayers, and know that I'm doing the same for all of you. Take care, God Bless, and as always...
Peace.
I have no intention of complaining about any of the above-mentioned activities or conditions, especially considering each one was designed to teach us some facet of Army doctrine. Each one was developed because of past experiences or current conditions faced by our comrades. Many, many soldiers, airmen, Marines, and sailors are dealing with the real-life repercussions of these lessons learned. So please do not think this post is a rant on the "sacrifices" we have to make during our field training. Rather, this is just a tongue-in-cheek retrospective of a rather adventurous week.
On Monday evening at 5:30pm, the entire company (including 110 additional short-course reservists, for a total of 501 personnel) boarded "air conditioned" buses (ha!) and rode out to the site of our field training exercises (FTXs), Camp Bullis. For the duration of our three week-long FTXs, we would be housed on the FOB (Forward Operating Base). We were very fortunate to be housed in "hooches" with air conditioning (with the caveat that it could not be turned on until the training day was over at 5:00pm). MREs were usually the order of the day for our lunches, with a hot breakfast and dinner shipped in from the dining facility 5 miles away. Admittedly, I was more excited about the MREs than te hot meals for two reasons: one, they tasted better, and two, they all were made by the Wornick Co. in Cincinnati. I made sure everyone on the FOB knew that these were not true representations of Cincinnati cuisine, but I'm not sure they really cared at that point!
The main activities for the week consisted of learning several of the skills which will be tested in the FTX beginning tomorrow morning. These included land navigation, medevac requests, movement training, and weapons familiarization and qualification. I am happy to report that I was able to successfully zero my M-16 and qualifiy as a Marksman with a score of 23 out of 40 targets hit (this doesn't sound terribly impressive, but I assure you it was not as easy as it sounds! We can discuss at another time...)
A word on the M-16: you never, ever, ever go anywhere without it! On the grounds of a major safety violation, your M-16 goes with you everywhere: to the rifle range, to the chow line, to class, to bed, even to the latrine (which, in the case of the FOB consists of 40 Port-o-Potties for 501 people for 1 week...smells great in the Texas sun!!). When we finally locked up our weapons for the weekend and returned to Ft. Sam, I had a moment of panic when I used the toilet in my room and didn't have my M-16 next to me! Even worse, I forgot to flush the can...at least for a moment! Taking an armed dump in a honeypot for a week really messes up your sense of personal decency!!
The week went pretty well, and except for an almost exclusive sense of isolation (due to very poor cell phone reception), was pretty enjoyable. I consumed, on average, 1.5 to 2 gallons of water and Gatorade per day, and usually only peed twice. I was able to text the ladies for a few minutes in the evening, and even got in a few workouts in the extemporary gym on the FOB. I haven't weighed myself yet, but I'm certain there was some serious weight loss that took place last week...more on the when I'm able to post again next weekend.
Well my dear friends, I bid you all adieu for now. I have to repack my duffle and ruck sack for our 0500 departure back to the FOB tomorrow morning. I look forward to posting again next weekend. In the meantime, keep my girlies in your thoughts, plans, and prayers, and know that I'm doing the same for all of you. Take care, God Bless, and as always...
Peace.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The highs and the Lows...
Man, oh man, oh man...what a spectacular several days it's been!
As many of you know, my beloved Kate, Meredith, and Lauren braved the wilds of the TSA and several airports to make the arduous journey down to San Antonio to visit me! What an absolute joy to have them in my world for a few precious days. More than even I realized at the time, I needed a shot of family to pick me back up for the second half of this course. The simple pleasure of having them within arm's length has been a blessing, and I am truly grateful for having had this time with them. But, as the days pass, it comes time for me to send them back home to Cincinnati. It was a tearful goodbye this evening (even though we were all enjoying our favorite dinner of Rudy's BBQ), knowing that it would be another extended period of time before we would be together again. But, this isn't anything out of the ordinary for the Army; no choice but to suck it up and get down to business.
One note on the Army Wife: she is an exceptional woman. She takes up the slack of the father when he's gone, does double duty as a single parent, maintains a household with as much grace and continuity as possible, and still finds time to make her husband feel like he is doing the right thing...and that he is truly loved, no exceptions. I am grateful for my Army Wife (...and my Army Girls, who make me feel just as on-top-of-the-world!), and I wish her and my whole family safe travels back home. I'll see you all again very soon; know that you're always in my heart.
I wish happiness to all who have taken the time to read this. I'll be off-the-grid until next Friday, as we will begin the field exercise portion of our course tomorrow evening. Be good, look in on the ladies, take good care of yourselves, and, as always...
Peace.
As many of you know, my beloved Kate, Meredith, and Lauren braved the wilds of the TSA and several airports to make the arduous journey down to San Antonio to visit me! What an absolute joy to have them in my world for a few precious days. More than even I realized at the time, I needed a shot of family to pick me back up for the second half of this course. The simple pleasure of having them within arm's length has been a blessing, and I am truly grateful for having had this time with them. But, as the days pass, it comes time for me to send them back home to Cincinnati. It was a tearful goodbye this evening (even though we were all enjoying our favorite dinner of Rudy's BBQ), knowing that it would be another extended period of time before we would be together again. But, this isn't anything out of the ordinary for the Army; no choice but to suck it up and get down to business.
One note on the Army Wife: she is an exceptional woman. She takes up the slack of the father when he's gone, does double duty as a single parent, maintains a household with as much grace and continuity as possible, and still finds time to make her husband feel like he is doing the right thing...and that he is truly loved, no exceptions. I am grateful for my Army Wife (...and my Army Girls, who make me feel just as on-top-of-the-world!), and I wish her and my whole family safe travels back home. I'll see you all again very soon; know that you're always in my heart.
I wish happiness to all who have taken the time to read this. I'll be off-the-grid until next Friday, as we will begin the field exercise portion of our course tomorrow evening. Be good, look in on the ladies, take good care of yourselves, and, as always...
Peace.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Defecation occurs...
My oh my, what a week it' s been!
Sinatra said it best in, "That's Life,": You're riding high in April, shot down in May.
The week started off on a pretty high note. My muscle strain was relatively pain-free, classes were running smoothly, and I earned a 94% on my midterm exam (not bad for a musician taking a test on medical issues, if I do say so myself!). The friendships we've been forming down here get stronger with each passing day, primarily fueled by our collective griping and complaining and utter confusion regarding some of the ins and outs of Army life...more on that shortly. Of particular note this past week was that the countdown to my girlies' visit to San Antonio reached single-digit status! This has been a great motivator for me to keep on track, stay ahead of the learning curve, and do my job as well as possible. I simply can't wait to greet them when they arrive on Wednesday.
But, oh how things do change rapidly. Friday dawned (very early at 0345) bright and beautiful; even the expected temperature of 110 degrees wasn't dampening my spirits. I should have known something was up when the usually fluid schedule began to jump off-track. We took another exam (this one covered our CBRNE training) Friday morning; not only was it open-note, it was also open-computer. Too easy, to be sure. Unfortunately, this bogged down some peoples' test-taking pace to a crawl. This started a chain reaction of lateness that essentially dorked-up the remainder of the day. We thought there would get some reprieve when, after our 1:00pm class, we were officially dismissed for the weekend! We headed back to the hotel, some people making it as far as their shower, when our cell phones started to go ballistic with messages. We were to return to the auditorium for two more 1-hour class sessions! ARGH!
The real issue, however, came a few hours later. As I was having dinner with some colleagues, I noticed a missed call from Kate. When I finally made contact with her, she calmly informed me that she was on the way to the hospital with my Aunt Kay; she fell from our front porch and sprained, potentially broke, her ankle. Four weeks in an air cast and on crutches...all while playing single mom while daddy plays soldier-boy. Dear, sweet heaven, can't anything ever come easily? She will be going to the doctor's office Monday morning for a more in-depth exam, and hopefully the recovery will move along more quickly than my CBRNE test. Please keep the family in your throughts and prayers, and please drop by the house (if you are willing and able) to spend some time with the ladies. Meredith is already getting pretty bored, since mommy can't drive the family anywhere! Play dates are always encouraged!
To all of my dear friends and family, I thank you for all you've done for us. I wish you all happiness, safety, and, most importantly...
Peace.
Sinatra said it best in, "That's Life,": You're riding high in April, shot down in May.
The week started off on a pretty high note. My muscle strain was relatively pain-free, classes were running smoothly, and I earned a 94% on my midterm exam (not bad for a musician taking a test on medical issues, if I do say so myself!). The friendships we've been forming down here get stronger with each passing day, primarily fueled by our collective griping and complaining and utter confusion regarding some of the ins and outs of Army life...more on that shortly. Of particular note this past week was that the countdown to my girlies' visit to San Antonio reached single-digit status! This has been a great motivator for me to keep on track, stay ahead of the learning curve, and do my job as well as possible. I simply can't wait to greet them when they arrive on Wednesday.
But, oh how things do change rapidly. Friday dawned (very early at 0345) bright and beautiful; even the expected temperature of 110 degrees wasn't dampening my spirits. I should have known something was up when the usually fluid schedule began to jump off-track. We took another exam (this one covered our CBRNE training) Friday morning; not only was it open-note, it was also open-computer. Too easy, to be sure. Unfortunately, this bogged down some peoples' test-taking pace to a crawl. This started a chain reaction of lateness that essentially dorked-up the remainder of the day. We thought there would get some reprieve when, after our 1:00pm class, we were officially dismissed for the weekend! We headed back to the hotel, some people making it as far as their shower, when our cell phones started to go ballistic with messages. We were to return to the auditorium for two more 1-hour class sessions! ARGH!
The real issue, however, came a few hours later. As I was having dinner with some colleagues, I noticed a missed call from Kate. When I finally made contact with her, she calmly informed me that she was on the way to the hospital with my Aunt Kay; she fell from our front porch and sprained, potentially broke, her ankle. Four weeks in an air cast and on crutches...all while playing single mom while daddy plays soldier-boy. Dear, sweet heaven, can't anything ever come easily? She will be going to the doctor's office Monday morning for a more in-depth exam, and hopefully the recovery will move along more quickly than my CBRNE test. Please keep the family in your throughts and prayers, and please drop by the house (if you are willing and able) to spend some time with the ladies. Meredith is already getting pretty bored, since mommy can't drive the family anywhere! Play dates are always encouraged!
To all of my dear friends and family, I thank you for all you've done for us. I wish you all happiness, safety, and, most importantly...
Peace.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
So, we actually do get PAID for this!
Hola everyone (that's how you say "hi," in Sapnglish).
It is an oddly and uniquely quiet day here at Ft. Sam. Over the next two days, the entire company must go through the SRP (Soldier Readiness Program). This is the Army's equivalent of a periodic health exam. The best part for all of us: only half the company is assigned to each day, so the other half gets the day off! Woo Hoo! Nothing like an unexpected free day. My only complaint: free days on a Tuesday are a quasi-letdown. You are already one day removed from the weekend, so you couldn't stay up late on Sunday night. And you haven't made it to the meat of the week, because there are 3 work days until next weeend. Regardless, it's great to have a day to yourself. I still woke up at 0345 this morning to do voluntary PT...the only problem was that our instructor wasn't there! Another let-down, but a minor one at that. So I took advantage of the early start, worked out a bit (nothing as intense as other mornings), took a shower, changed clothes...and promptly fell back asleep for three more hours! Have I mentioned that I love having Tuesdays off? No? Well, I do!
The next best thing to happen to me was that my first chunk of pay finally came through yesterday. So, on behalf of every officer and soldier on this post, I thank you, the American taxpayer, for suppling me/us with employment and income! Although, ironically, Uncle Sam took a big chunk out of my own paycheck, too, so I guess I'm paying myself as well...that's just bass-ackwards. But I guess someone has to feed the Congress during their exhausting debt debates...they're hard-working Government employees too, you know. It feels great to be earning a good paycheck again; most of my off-duty time during the week is spent trying to find a permanent full-time place in the Army to make sure the opportunity to serve and work and earn continues. Thanks for the chance to be here and serve you; it's an honor to do so.
As always, my thoughts and prayers are with you all, especially my beautiful ladies on the homefront. One week from tomorrow...can't hardly wait to hold you in my arms! I wish everyone happy days, quiet nights, and, as always...
Peace.
It is an oddly and uniquely quiet day here at Ft. Sam. Over the next two days, the entire company must go through the SRP (Soldier Readiness Program). This is the Army's equivalent of a periodic health exam. The best part for all of us: only half the company is assigned to each day, so the other half gets the day off! Woo Hoo! Nothing like an unexpected free day. My only complaint: free days on a Tuesday are a quasi-letdown. You are already one day removed from the weekend, so you couldn't stay up late on Sunday night. And you haven't made it to the meat of the week, because there are 3 work days until next weeend. Regardless, it's great to have a day to yourself. I still woke up at 0345 this morning to do voluntary PT...the only problem was that our instructor wasn't there! Another let-down, but a minor one at that. So I took advantage of the early start, worked out a bit (nothing as intense as other mornings), took a shower, changed clothes...and promptly fell back asleep for three more hours! Have I mentioned that I love having Tuesdays off? No? Well, I do!
The next best thing to happen to me was that my first chunk of pay finally came through yesterday. So, on behalf of every officer and soldier on this post, I thank you, the American taxpayer, for suppling me/us with employment and income! Although, ironically, Uncle Sam took a big chunk out of my own paycheck, too, so I guess I'm paying myself as well...that's just bass-ackwards. But I guess someone has to feed the Congress during their exhausting debt debates...they're hard-working Government employees too, you know. It feels great to be earning a good paycheck again; most of my off-duty time during the week is spent trying to find a permanent full-time place in the Army to make sure the opportunity to serve and work and earn continues. Thanks for the chance to be here and serve you; it's an honor to do so.
As always, my thoughts and prayers are with you all, especially my beautiful ladies on the homefront. One week from tomorrow...can't hardly wait to hold you in my arms! I wish everyone happy days, quiet nights, and, as always...
Peace.
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