Hello all you loyal readers - and farewell.
Not forever, but for at least a few days (8 to be precise). I'm heading off to summer camp for a little while, so you won't be able to hear from me until I get back next week some time. It should be fun. The counselors say there are lots of fun activities; like hiking, learning first-aid, arts & crafts, hiking, horseback riding, archery, and hiking. I'm going to miss you, but I'm sure I'll have a good time, and will have lots to tell you about when I get back.
Okay, so it's not camping, it's field training...but I will get to live in a tent (an un-airconditioned room built for five people that the Army sees fit to fill with around 15-20 guys that probably won't shower because, "heck, we're just going to get dirty tomorrow.") I weep for my nose.
And for the activities...oh man...
- Marching everywhere in formations (even though no war has been fought using troop formations since WW I), self aid and buddy care (which really means tying up whatever injured part someone has with a strip of cloth tied tightly with a metal rod until the field doc gets there, points out that the tourniquet has cut of his blood flow, and now rather than a bad case of bleeding, he's going to lose a limb - yes, they really teach you to go for the tourniquet first, rather than just bandage up wounds)
- Arts and crafts is the equivalent of making improvised weaponry out of rocks, boards, bottles, or whatever is available, should the M-16 your carrying jam, the side pistol run out of bullets, and the bad guys are still coming at you unarmed, rather than using the MANY AK-47 rifles available at any house in - INSERT COUNTRY HERE) and also putting together weapon systems that I should have no business touching in the first place (see the grenades and mines comments from the previous post)
- More marching
- Horseback riding means strapping into a Humvee - again un-airconditioned, so you're in a country at a time when the outside temperature is hot enough to fry freshly laid eggs, in a GIANT METAL BOX, wearing long sleeve shirts and long pants, with the added comfort of around 70-80 pounds of armor and other gear...I bet those other kids at real summer cams are soooooo jealous!
- Archery means weapons qualifications; both with the M-16 rifle, and the M-9 handgun. This, I must say, will probably be the best part of the whole thing, and the most necessary. Though I won't (hopefully) be carrying a rifle while deployed, I will be using the pistol if absolutely necessary.
- Oh yeah, and more marching!
So there's a little over a week of this stuff, and then we come back to our home away from home to learn more about how the Army thinks - scared yet? I am! By that, I mean once we've done the physical stuff, we'll begin week-long classes on how to operate Army equipment like radios and compasses. I really missed out on all that Boy Scout stuff when I was a kid, so it's nice to know that twenty-five years later, I'll get the chance to learn all about the stuff that an eight-year-old kid could probably teach me in a day.
I will write in a journal every day, so when I come back, I can re-write it here for all of you to enjoy.
I really don't mean to come off so sarcastic, but when things around you don't make sense, or take longer than desirable (necessary) to accomplish, you can either complain, or tough it out. I've chosen option B, but with a sprinkling of option A hidden using language to diffuse my aggression and turn it into humor for you all to read.
I'm glad some of you got a few laughs out of my previous blog entry. It sucked at the time, but laughing helps make the days easier, and has been clinically proven to reduce stress and prolong lives. I will try to keep my spirits up, and my entries entertaining - depending on the severity of the conditions here. So I'll just say now, it sucks here, but God willing, I'll make a little lemonade for someone.
- - - -
On a completely different note, thanks to all of you who have kept Vanessa in your prayers. It's hard to have her suffering so much, and me not being able to comfort her. She has posted about what's going on in her blog (link on the right bottom of my blog), and many of you have piped up, and offered your support and prayers. Thank you. Please continue, as I feel things will only get worse before they get better. God's will be done!
- - - -
ULI
06 May 2008
03 May 2008
IT HAS BEGUN...
Well howdy.
For the first time since I've been here, there is pain. It's not the bad kind, like getting a knife stuck in your hand, or feeling a rusty nail go through your shoe into your sole. But more of a dull, throbbing pain that comes with standing for hours in metal plates that make up 1/3 of your body weight... that, and the other dull pain from wearing a hat made of heavy plastic, concrete, and metal - all uncomfortably strapped to your body in ways that would make a dominatrix blush with envy.
Let's start with yesterday...field training Day 1 - Grenades (dun-dun-DUN!):
Yesterday we put on our battle gear for the first time. I won't lie, it was heavy, and hot. The kind of heavy and hot that might make a lesser person pass out from the strain. We then marched - all 56 of us - to a campsite about 10 miles from where we are staying. Then we were told that we'd be playing with grenades. Let me tell you with as much sarcasm as I can muster, that I really enjoyed the prospect of playing with hand-held explosives. I mean, there's so much that can go wrong, and in the heat of things, all it takes is a single distraction, and you go from being Mr/Mrs. somebody to small fractions of your former self. Getting back to the story though, we learned how to identify the different types of grenades, how to disable all the safety features (there are two, but the Army likes to use the word "all" for some reason), and then we got to practice throwing them...disarmed, of course. After that, we went through basic crawling maneuvers (another Army term for sliding on your belly like a snake) to get from point A to point B. Then we got to put all that learning into practice, and crawl, throw a grenade, crawl more, throw another grenade - only this time, they were armed "training" grenades, so if it exploded, only the person HOLDING the hand-bomb would receive any damage. Luckily, I made it through unscathed. I cannot say the same for some of my classmates (burns and bruises mostly...he's much better today).
After the grenade extravaganza, we went through moving through terrain in squad formation. If you don't know what that is, think about any military movie you've seen where a small group of Soldiers is walking slowly through tall grass, or lightly wooded areas, holding their machine guns at the ready, and occassionally stopping, making some hand gestures as if to say, "I think there might be somehting up there." Now, we all knew it was coming, but you never knew when, but eventually, there would be the sound of a bomb dropping (see: the sound of a bottle rocket being set off) and then an explosion. At that point, we were to yell, INCOMING, and hit the deck. Well...we got that part perfect...but when I hit the deck, a piece of my body armor caught me in the chest, and knocked the wind right out of me. So I fell, and stayed down. There was an Army Staff Sergeant in charge of our little squad, who kept yelling at me to take charge, to lead the troops out of fire, and to get them safe. Meanwhile, I'm trying to inhale, and failing - miserably. I eventually mad the "I can't frickin' breathe" motion with my hands, and he suddenly stopped his yelling. Then as if it were orchestrated by a master conductor, people came from everywhere. There were people asking me questions (I couldn't answer because to speak, you need air), people rolling me around onto my back - that helped a little, people removing my armor and clothing - that helped a lot, and people rushing to get medical supplies - just in case it wasn't a dummy round, and I'd been hit by some kind of shrapnel. When I was able to get a breath in, I told them I was okay. This did nothing, because at that point - maybe 20 seconds later - they had made up their minds, collectively, that I was dehydrated, and needed fluids - and thus began pouring water and juice down my throught. This. Did. Nothing. So there I layed, gasping for air with short breaths, and oh, now I'm DROWNING! I finally waved everyone off, and just stopped trying to breathe for a minute. My body recovered, I relaxed, and I took my first deep breath around two minutes after the original incident. I looked around and saw everyone happy that I was okay, but when I tried to stand, the Army guy stopped me, and told me to jusy stay down for a minute. I finally had the ability to speak, and told them that I had simply lost my wind for a minute (with their "help" two) and was fine. Then I joked around by grabbing one of the Airmen next to my on the leg and said, "Tell my wife...I ...Love her." At that point, everyone knew I was fine. So that was our first day of real training. Yes, there's a photo of me on the ground, just after I spoke. It's at the bottom of this post for all of you to enjoy.
- - - -
Day - 2 (MINES):
Today, we marched back to the same place. It hurt a little more, because of the muscle pain from wearing all the gear the day before. There's really no neat sotry to tell, because everything went as planned today. We learned how to set up a claymore mine (the kind that you string a long wire and hit a button to make it go BOOM, like in the old train bridge movies. Then we learned how to diffuse a mine. Now, I'm no expert, but if I ever have to set up a mine, something has gone terribly wrong, and we've already lost whatever war we were in. But if I ever have to diffuse a mine...well: Vanessa, I Love You, you were a wonder ful wife; Mom, Dad, I Love You, you were the best parents I could have hoped for; to my family and friends, thanks for making me into the person I am, er, was; and to all, I'll see you in the Afterlife. DIFFUSE A MINE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! Needless to say, we did it because we had to, and the mines were all simulations, so there was never any real danger.
There were also classes on identifying roadside bombs and calling them in using Army radio procedures, capturing, securing, and questioning detainees, and some other pointless - er, usefull - classes that don't require listing.
- - - -
So I've been here a week now, and they say it's all uphill from here. Luckily Sunday is just around the corner. Church on Sunday. Lord willing, I'll survive until then. It's really not that bad...for now.
I'm going to close now. I have to get to my room, and put some Ben-Gay on my shoulders.
.......OH, the picture, right. As promised......
You can laugh...I did after I could breathe again!!!
ULI
For the first time since I've been here, there is pain. It's not the bad kind, like getting a knife stuck in your hand, or feeling a rusty nail go through your shoe into your sole. But more of a dull, throbbing pain that comes with standing for hours in metal plates that make up 1/3 of your body weight... that, and the other dull pain from wearing a hat made of heavy plastic, concrete, and metal - all uncomfortably strapped to your body in ways that would make a dominatrix blush with envy.
Let's start with yesterday...field training Day 1 - Grenades (dun-dun-DUN!):
Yesterday we put on our battle gear for the first time. I won't lie, it was heavy, and hot. The kind of heavy and hot that might make a lesser person pass out from the strain. We then marched - all 56 of us - to a campsite about 10 miles from where we are staying. Then we were told that we'd be playing with grenades. Let me tell you with as much sarcasm as I can muster, that I really enjoyed the prospect of playing with hand-held explosives. I mean, there's so much that can go wrong, and in the heat of things, all it takes is a single distraction, and you go from being Mr/Mrs. somebody to small fractions of your former self. Getting back to the story though, we learned how to identify the different types of grenades, how to disable all the safety features (there are two, but the Army likes to use the word "all" for some reason), and then we got to practice throwing them...disarmed, of course. After that, we went through basic crawling maneuvers (another Army term for sliding on your belly like a snake) to get from point A to point B. Then we got to put all that learning into practice, and crawl, throw a grenade, crawl more, throw another grenade - only this time, they were armed "training" grenades, so if it exploded, only the person HOLDING the hand-bomb would receive any damage. Luckily, I made it through unscathed. I cannot say the same for some of my classmates (burns and bruises mostly...he's much better today).
After the grenade extravaganza, we went through moving through terrain in squad formation. If you don't know what that is, think about any military movie you've seen where a small group of Soldiers is walking slowly through tall grass, or lightly wooded areas, holding their machine guns at the ready, and occassionally stopping, making some hand gestures as if to say, "I think there might be somehting up there." Now, we all knew it was coming, but you never knew when, but eventually, there would be the sound of a bomb dropping (see: the sound of a bottle rocket being set off) and then an explosion. At that point, we were to yell, INCOMING, and hit the deck. Well...we got that part perfect...but when I hit the deck, a piece of my body armor caught me in the chest, and knocked the wind right out of me. So I fell, and stayed down. There was an Army Staff Sergeant in charge of our little squad, who kept yelling at me to take charge, to lead the troops out of fire, and to get them safe. Meanwhile, I'm trying to inhale, and failing - miserably. I eventually mad the "I can't frickin' breathe" motion with my hands, and he suddenly stopped his yelling. Then as if it were orchestrated by a master conductor, people came from everywhere. There were people asking me questions (I couldn't answer because to speak, you need air), people rolling me around onto my back - that helped a little, people removing my armor and clothing - that helped a lot, and people rushing to get medical supplies - just in case it wasn't a dummy round, and I'd been hit by some kind of shrapnel. When I was able to get a breath in, I told them I was okay. This did nothing, because at that point - maybe 20 seconds later - they had made up their minds, collectively, that I was dehydrated, and needed fluids - and thus began pouring water and juice down my throught. This. Did. Nothing. So there I layed, gasping for air with short breaths, and oh, now I'm DROWNING! I finally waved everyone off, and just stopped trying to breathe for a minute. My body recovered, I relaxed, and I took my first deep breath around two minutes after the original incident. I looked around and saw everyone happy that I was okay, but when I tried to stand, the Army guy stopped me, and told me to jusy stay down for a minute. I finally had the ability to speak, and told them that I had simply lost my wind for a minute (with their "help" two) and was fine. Then I joked around by grabbing one of the Airmen next to my on the leg and said, "Tell my wife...I ...Love her." At that point, everyone knew I was fine. So that was our first day of real training. Yes, there's a photo of me on the ground, just after I spoke. It's at the bottom of this post for all of you to enjoy.
- - - -
Day - 2 (MINES):
Today, we marched back to the same place. It hurt a little more, because of the muscle pain from wearing all the gear the day before. There's really no neat sotry to tell, because everything went as planned today. We learned how to set up a claymore mine (the kind that you string a long wire and hit a button to make it go BOOM, like in the old train bridge movies. Then we learned how to diffuse a mine. Now, I'm no expert, but if I ever have to set up a mine, something has gone terribly wrong, and we've already lost whatever war we were in. But if I ever have to diffuse a mine...well: Vanessa, I Love You, you were a wonder ful wife; Mom, Dad, I Love You, you were the best parents I could have hoped for; to my family and friends, thanks for making me into the person I am, er, was; and to all, I'll see you in the Afterlife. DIFFUSE A MINE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! Needless to say, we did it because we had to, and the mines were all simulations, so there was never any real danger.
There were also classes on identifying roadside bombs and calling them in using Army radio procedures, capturing, securing, and questioning detainees, and some other pointless - er, usefull - classes that don't require listing.
- - - -
So I've been here a week now, and they say it's all uphill from here. Luckily Sunday is just around the corner. Church on Sunday. Lord willing, I'll survive until then. It's really not that bad...for now.
I'm going to close now. I have to get to my room, and put some Ben-Gay on my shoulders.
.......OH, the picture, right. As promised......
You can laugh...I did after I could breathe again!!!
- - - -
ULI
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