Archive for the ‘Army’ Category

This might be painful to read. Just a warning.

One of the things that tends to get glossed over in various discussions of the current war is the severe emotional toll that gets inflicted on our troops during a conflict. You occasionally hear something in the news, but for the most part people just don’t notice. And for many soldiers even admitting that these problems exits is taboo. Real soldiers don’t get worn down emotionally. Only weak soldiers do.

I have considered this carefully, and decided that I am going to share my experience on this subject. Long time readers may recall that I served in Bosnia and Kosovo. Bosnia wasn’t really all that bad. By the time I showed up the multi-national force had been in place for several years. I worked in an office, and for the most of the serious fighting had ended by the time I arrived.

But Kosovo was another matter.

Now before I go into this I want to stress a few things. I am not trying to claim that my experience in Kosovo was as bad as what soldiers in other conflicts had to deal with. This isn’t about being in some sort of pissing contest with other veterans. Soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq experienced far worse than me. I don’t even like imagining what soldiers in Viet Nam went through. And many soldiers got through those conflicts emotionally unscathed. This is actually what trips some people up. They compare themselves to other soldiers in other conflicts and go, “Well it wasn’t as bad as they had it. I don’t have the right to feel all messed up.” But it’s not about how bad other people had it. Its about what you went through, and how it made you feel.

In Kosovo I was in a non-combat, tactical unit. This meant we traveled around “outside the wire” all day, but we weren’t specifically tasked with patrolling or engaging hostile units. We got to speak to the locals, find out their needs, advise them on US Army activities, and try to help encourage a better relationship between them and US Forces. Oh, also we were supposed to undo roughly 300 years of ethnic strife.

I wasn’t involved with very much combat. There was some while I was there, but for the most part, I was pretty lucky and avoided the worst of it.

But the sheer amount of suffering that the locals had gone through started to grind on me after a while. That and the fact that even after all that suffering, nobody was willing to quit. It was like the entire country was one giant asylum filled with the violently insane. People treated grudges from four generation ago the way you or I would treat something that happened yesterday.

And when you’re in the Army, it’s not cool to talk about how stuff like that is starting to seriously bug you. And so I kept it to myself.

Eventually I shipped back to the states. And then I had trouble sleeping. And I started snapping at the people I worked around. Eventually I decided that I needed to take up some sort of hobby in an attempt to get back into a decent head space. Since I used to build models when I was in high school, I decided to give that a try. And as I have always been a huge history nerd, I got a scale model of a Mesopotamian step pyramid. Over the course of a week, I put that sucker together until after a particularly bad day, I took it out to the parking lot and set in on fire. One of my NCOs noticed me doing this and gave me a “Are you nuts?” look, but he left it alone. As written in the manual at http://howmed.net/viagra-sildenafil-canadian/, Viagra helps to treat erectile dysfunction or impotence.

Well I felt kind of stupid after that, so I bought another one, and tried to finish it again. I got closer to finishing it, but again, a bad day set me into a rage and I took it outside and put it to the torch.

The same NCO witnessed this act as well and he decided that something was wrong. And The next day I found myself ordered to go to the health clinic to see about getting some help.

And that’s when the doctor told me the news:

“Son, if you don’t stop smoking ziggurats it’s gonna kill you.”

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For those of you who are just reading for the first time check out this post from last week.

So I have been leaving comments in Amy Proctor’s site about this, and my feelings on the subject. I pointed out that nearly every argument that she made could be applied towards banning a religion from the post, provided that someone else objected to it.

She responded with:
“Right, Skippy, banning the sexualization of women for profit on posts and banning religion are one in the same. I don’t know why i didn’t see it sooner.”

Actually, it is the same thing.

It is the exact same thing.

It is allowing one group to look at another and say, “You can’t do that because I don’t like it”. It is saying “You shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions that I don’t agree with.”

And if religion gets a free ride, what then happens when someone makes a religion around porn? There is already one based around the Jedi Knights. So its more probable that you would think. I’m sure the argument would become “No, only real religions get protected status”. Call me on it if I’m wrong, Amy.

But the Army, for better or for worse, can and does limit religious expression on post. Rastafarian’s don’t smoke pot, Wiccans could barely practice and not have their sacred items confiscated, and I’m positive that no one will be sacrificing a POW to Tláloc to ensure a good rainy season and bountiful harvest anytime soon. Heck, I’m pretty sure that the Westboro Baptist Church wouldn’t be welcome on most bases.

Now, people have tried arguing with her on facts. The damage that she claims porn will cause has not materialized in societies where porn is accepted. Nor have these kinds of harm shown up in societies that have newly accepted porn.

But facts would not sway her.

And people tried logic. They pointed out that ink and paper can’t hurt someone. That magazines sealed in plastic don’t actually effect her simply by existing. The whole “they are harmful on post but safe if stored five minutes away” borders on superstition. That, or the belief that they are somehow radioactive. (Completely inappropriate side note: What superpowers would you get from a radioactive adult magazine? Defend your choices.)

Logic would not budge her.

And so I am left with my last, and perhaps strongest tool.

Farce.

A Modest Proposal…..For Military Bases

As Amy has pointed out, people who claim to support the military and our troops must also support the families of our soldiers. There are a growing number of soldiers who also have families. And our soldiers must be secure in the knowledge that their wives, and more importantly, their children, will receive adequate care and protection at all times. A soldier who is insecure about his family’s well-being is a soldier that cannot focus on his job. And when soldiers cannot focus on their jobs it can lead to unnecessary waste, accidents, and even death.

And so, I am forced to draw your attention to a growing danger facing our military families.

Catholicism.

“But Skippy”, you might say, “Catholicism is a religion. How can you accuse a religion of being dangerous to the military family?”

And so I will demonstrate the harm.

First of all, Catholics teach symbolic cannibalism. It’s right there during Mass, where everyone can see it. Now, if a consenting adult wishes to partake in such activities during their free time, that is their right. But it should certainly be limited to off-post, because non-Catholics shouldn’t have to have their children exposed to the idea that it is okay to eat people.

Secondly, Catholics drink wine as part of their religious services. Again, adults should be allowed to whatever they like, but there are children on Army bases now. And children shouldn’t be encouraged to drink. Because alcohol has been positively linked to alcoholism.

The current leader of the Catholic Church is a former Hitler Youth. An organization that teaches that Nazis are the infallible representatives of God’s will is on our Army bases? Goodness I should hope not.

And many people worry, justifiably I might add, that certain practices on base might harm our children. But who has time to worry about ink and glossy paper when there are children who have been irreparably harmed by Catholicism? By having turgid priest injected directly into their buttholes. Which the Church condoned by covering up. And then assigning the priests to go work with other children. I don’t think that child rapists, or their apologists, belong in the same places as our soldier’s families.

And this is just the modern, current era issues. Let’s not forget the Crusades, institutionalized torture, the Inquisition, witch trials, the selling of indulgences, religious suppression, the consumption of fish on Friday, and genocide. It’s like a laundry list of unacceptable behavior.

Now I’m not saying that soldiers shouldn’t be allowed to practice their faith as they see fit. After all, they are adults and their free time is theirs to do with as they please. I’m just pointing out that common sense dictates that the behavior of the Catholic Church is incompatible with military families.

And really, is it such a big deal to make all of the Catholics go off-post to spend their free time in the manner that they so choose? I would think that the well-being of the children should definitely come first, before the selfish desires of the Catholic Faithful.

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Military Honor and Decency Act

Long term readers may remember this post.

And so once again we have a group of people that think they know more than the rest of us should.

If you have any respect for our soldiers, or value freedom in any way, you should contact your Representative and tell them that you don’t support this.

I first saw this on my regular Internet news sites and at first I thought, “Eh, I’ve written about this before.” But then one of my readers, Patrick, sent me this site. As I read Mrs. Proctor’s arguments and her defense of them, I found myself getting angry. And then I realized that an unfortunate reality is that silence equals consent.

I do not consent to having our soldiers privileges sacrificed on the altar of political expediency.

I do not consent to freedom of speech being limited to only things that are bland and fail to offend the tender sensibilities of the sexually repressed.

I do not consent to politicians, who as a group are typically some of the most horrifically amoral people on the planet, deciding that they get to dictate proper morality for the rest of us. Generic Levitra cost at http://howmed.net/order-levitra-vardenafil/ and how to use Vardenafil.

I do not consent to allowing people to get away with pretending that their moral decisions are more valid than mine.

I do not consent to lazy parents abdicating their responsibility and instead demand that society at large eliminate anything they don’t like, to prevent them from ever having to have an awkward conversation.

I do not consent to a magazine being banned from sale because someone doesn’t like it.

I do not consent to our brave soldiers being bullied in this manner.

Now to answer some of the obvious responses to my statement.

“Pornography is harmful to women”
-How so? I have run a careful experiment exposing my wife to pornography. She has yet to catch fire, develop cancer, or run off to become a prostitute. Okay, maybe if a pallet of dirty magazines was to fall on you it would hurt. But I think you’d be just as crushed if they were bibles.

“Pornography leads to rape”
-I’m sure that this is following the logic that some person once read porn, and then went on to rape someone. There are also rapists who have read the bible, sang pop songs, and driven automobiles. I think I am safe in saying that most men in the U.S. have looked at porn at some point in their life. And most of us have managed not to rape anybody so far.

“Think about how porn affects the women on military bases”
– With the possible exception of that Air Force SGT that posed for Playboy last year, I would have to say, “Not affected in the slightest”. Unless they are buying and reading it, in which case I might go with “they are titillated.”

“They can always go somewhere else to get it”
-Not always. Some might be stuck on post for some reason. Or they may be deployed to a country where it is not readily available in the economy. Maybe they don’t have a car. Perhaps they are on a ship.

“It’s degrading to women”
-How so? The women who are getting told, “You are so beautiful that we will pay you thousands of dollars for the privilege of looking at you” don’t seem degraded to me. Are other women degraded simply by the magazines being nearby? Because men are looking at the pictures? Because men are thinking impure thoughts after looking at those magazines? So in this logic chain no one but the model, the PX, the magazine, and the man who bought it are involved. I’ve heard some people say that the magazines make men look at women who are around them with lust, but let me tell you, men don’t need magazines for that, we are quite capable of perving out without them.

“Think of the children”
-You know what I think? I think that a kid with one or more parents overseas with a serious threat of bodily harm has more important concerns than a magazine sealed in plastic. And even if it wasn’t sealed in plastic: “Oh noes! Teh naked boobies! I am scarred for life!” Seriously, it’s one thing to not want your kid exposed to something. It’s another to think that everyone else needs work around your hang-ups. Also, Playboy magazine wasn’t involved in a nasty series of child rape cover-ups in recent years. Things more important than magazines could be banned from post if people are allowed to start trampling on rights over “protect the children”.

“But they don’t need it”
-You absolutely right. They don’t need it. But the fact that the PX keeps selling it tells us that they want it. If porn was eliminated soldiers could still do their job. There are lot’s of things that soldiers don’t need to do their jobs. Video games, alcohol, cigarettes, movies, the Internet. We could ban all of those things from post and soldiers could still function. Just because someone doesn’t need something doesn’t give you the right to take it away. Soldiers also don’t need to have families on post. And judging from the behavior of some military wives, I think an argument could be made for keeping them off-post only. One just as strong as banning Penthouse and Playboy.

I think people should be free to practice, or abstain from the practice, of any religion they so choose. And if your faith tells you that you should avoid dirty magazines, well then that is a great reason to not purchase or look at dirty magazines. But it is a horrible reason to try to make other people stop having them. Your right to practice your faith ends at your neighbor’s right to practice his.

So in closing, the human body is nothing to be ashamed of, sexuality is a valid form of expression, and “Family Values” is just a dirty way of saying censorship.

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Well it took me forever, but I have finally started adding to the Friends of Skippy List once again.

(Submitted By SSG Lorraine A. Morrison)

• Do not order boot MP’s to take a larceny report from MSG Ramen at the commissary. They will wander around for hours before they realize that MSG Ramen is a soup

• Do not send buck privates to the motor pool for one gallon of frequency grease.

(Submitted By Brian Hunter)

• Not allowed to label flu season tissues as biological warfare agents.

• Must not label the Texas Chili MRE as chemical warfare.

• Even if it could be used as such.

• Not allowed to start a music act called Run-DMZ.

(Submitted By Chris Jacka)

• Bright colored g-strings are not an acceptable form of underwear for a layout before a FTX.

• It is also not advised to then take said garments on said FTX and come out of the tent while snowed in wearing only a watch cap, boots and silver g-string and run around the mortar.

• Lastly, NEVER, EVER, greet the new E-3 fresh from the Ranger Battalion while wearing a gold g-string and combat boots and gently ask him if he needs anything.

(Submitted By Jessica Hoeting)

• I’m not a ninja, and they CAN see me

(Submitted By CPL Ian Yee -Who was a very busy lad)

• Hedonism is not an army authorized religion. Therefore I’m not allowed to build a church, cult, or donation box for the Church of Hedonism. Nor can I be the chaplain of said church.

• “Surprise Sex” or “Ambush Sex” is not a valid substitute for the phrase “sexual assault”.

• “Don’t ask, Don’t tell” is the army’s policy for gays, not an appropriate response when asked by your chain of command why you showed up to formation in your underwear.

• You may not refer to members of your chain of command as the “weakest link”.

• You also may not hold a vote to decide which member of your chain of command you can “boot off the island”.

• CLP is used to lubricate weapons. Not for personal use.

• The Air Force is a service, not how hard you blow up your inflatable “significant other”.

• Your dog does not count as immediate family, therefore you cannot use that as a reason to go home on emergency leave.

• Do not bang the bottom of a Mk 19 round and attempt to play football with it.

• Especially in front of your chain of command.

• Especially when you’re throwing it to your chain of command.

• “Hooyah Master Chief” is not an appropriate way to respond to any army officer.

• Work is not a valid allergy to put on your medical records. Neither is BS, officers, NCO’s, or latrine duty.

• Just because you say you’re allergic to latrines does not give you permission to piss anywhere you want. The Sergeant Major’s flower bed thanks you.

• Do not try to speed in your humvee and use the excuse “I needed to go 88 mph to achieve 1.21 jiggawatts Sir!”

• You may not combine any part of the uniform at any time. Therefore shower shoes, pt shorts, IBA, and beret is not an acceptable duty uniform. No matter how sexy you say you look.

• MySpace is a place for friends, not for posting guard rosters or passing out information to your soldiers.

• It is not appropriate to say the word “asshole” after saying the rank of sergeant major.

• The OPFOR patch is not an authorized combat patch.

• I will not hand out tickets for driving the speed limit.

• I will not replace the COL PARKING ONLY sign with a SPC PARKING ONLY sign.

• Just because you put a handicapped sticker on your humvee doesn’t mean you can take the C.O.’s spot.

• Do not replace all the contents of the first aid kits with water and Motrin.

• CamelBaks are for water, not beer.

• Not everyone in the Navy is called Seamen.

• Also, the proper spelling of Seamen is not semen.

• There is no such thing as Specialist grade article 15’s, so stop handing them out.

• You cannot trade guard shifts with the voices in your head.

• You cannot request Amsterdam, Cancun, or the Playboy Mansion as your preferred duty station.

• Checking out a female is not called “Reconnaissance of friendly lines”.

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Ever since I have started writing this blog, I have have started getting an increase in traffic. And the increase in traffic has in turn lead to an increase in questions being emailed to me. I don’t mind, I like the attention and I certainly have no problem sharing any experiences I have in both the military and the game industry. But I do wind up getting similar questions a lot. So to combat that problem, and to help provide a resource for people who might want more information on those subjects, I have created two new pages.

So you want to be a soldier?

and

So you want to make video games?

From now on, all questions I receive about either subject are going up there, unless the submitter specifically asks me not to.

Also, I’m leaving comments on because as unlikely as it sounds, I don’t necessarily know everything, and sometimes someone else may have other helpful ideas.

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Here is another user submitted story by one of the rarest creatures on the planet. A fun officer.

Here is one of those, “You just can’t make this shit up” stories.

No shit, there I was; Camp Shelby Mississippi, pre-mob training for an OIF
deployment. One of my medics, SPC Nancy, was playing “victim” during a STX
lane, and ended up with her arm caught in the closing ramp of an M113 APC.
Needless to say her arm was black and blue, and up in a sling.

Since this was pre-mob training, our unit was on “lock-down”, meaning no one
went anywhere, but to the gym, PX, or post theater. The night after SPC
Nancy’s accident, was a “Wal-Mart Night”. “Wal-Mart Nights” meant that the guys
could put on their shiny shoes, and the girls would tease their hair, because
“Oh Baby, we’re going to Wal-mart tonight!” It meant that the Joes could wear
civilian clothes, and take a bus ride to the local Wal-mart.

Because of SPC Nancy’s injury, she was just not up to going to Wal-Mart. Being
the kind, caring, and compassionate CO that I am, I took $20 and handed it to
PV2 Powell and told him to get that young lady a hot water bottle to put on
her arm when he went to Wal-Mart. Now PV2 Powell, who, by the way, is not the
smartest of privates, took the $20 and his best buddy PFC Lewis, also, not
the smartest of privates, and went to Wal-mart on a mission.

After searching for a hot water bottle for over 10 minutes to no avail, PV2
Powell went to the cosmetics counter and asked the lady for help finding a
hot water bottle. The lady saw the look of confusion, and purpose on PV2
Powell’s face, and asked him if the product was for a woman.

“Why Yes, Yes it is for a woman!” said PV2 Powell.
“Oh, okay honey, come with me.” Said the woman.

She pointed them down the aisle, and when PV2 Powell read the carton “Hot Water bottle/ D – O – U…. What’s a Douche?” he asked PFC Lewis, to which PFC Lewis replied “I think that’s French for ‘hot water bottle'”. (No Shit! It actually is.) “I’ll take it!” said a very proud PV2 Powell.

Upon return to the company area PV2 Powell presented the gift to SPC Nancy
and told her “Here, the CO thinks that you should use this.”

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One of the less fun aspects of being in the military is the way you will be utilized on a day-to-day basis, while in garrison. For instance, you may have just finished training on a new high-tech computer system. Or learned how to speak an exotic and obscure language. You might even be qualified on some sort of armored killing machine capable of destroying and terrifying the enemies of our nation.

But at the end of the day, a normal day, you are a grounds-keeping specialist.

I, myself spent six months doing my initial entry training, Basic, Illustrator training at Fort Mead, followed by jump school. I was a lean, mean, Photoshopping machine, who was also able to jump out of airplanes for no suitably explored reason. And I had been assigned to PSYOP at Fort Bragg where I would use my newly acquired skills to help craft propaganda to confuse and demoralize our enemies. And on my first day at my brand new unit, they told me I was being assigned to “Post Beautification Detail”. This turned out to be Army-speak for “Here’s a weed-whacker. Have a nice month doing lawn care.”

And so I spent the next 30 days taking my frustrations out on the various North Carolina weeds. During this time, one particular incident does stick out for me. At one point, me and my elite post beautification team were handling the grass near the Special Operations Command building and we came across some device on the ground. It looked like a little tiny radar installation and was presumably some sort of high-speed communication device. It looked like someone had being using it and just wandered away. I noticed that it had some sort of yellow and black warning sticker on it, maybe the size of a pack of cigarettes. I wondered what it said, and got close enough to read it.

“Danger. Non-aligning isotopes. Do not approach closer than 10 feet while in operation.”

“Hmmmm,” I though to myself, standing maybe two feet away from this device, “I think I will run away screaming like a little girl now.”

To this day I still have no idea what that device was.

A fun tradition at Ft Bragg was that once a year they would have Post Clean-Up event. This meant that for a week, everybody got to help with the lawn care. And by everybody I, of course, mean the enlisted along with a few unlucky officers who had evidently pissed off someone important.

One particular year my unit got assigned to clean up the Mata-Mile.

For those of you that are not familiar with Ft Bragg, the Mata-Mile is one of those general purpose areas which gets used by different groups for different activities. For most soldiers on the post, it was a path through the woods, suitable for running or ruck-marches.

For every person living in the nearby town it was a path through the woods suitable for dumping things like old washing-machines, tires, dead hookers, and boxes of unlabeled urinalysis samples.

And for high ranking officers, it was a path through the woods, which needed to be cleaned on a yearly basis. To hear it told to us, the cleanliness of this path had a direct and urgent effect on our nation’s ability to defend itself, even if no one could ever explain why.

So one week we are out there, raking the dirt path. Not raking things out of the dirt path. Just dragging a rake through the dirt. Not my idea, just following orders. So my unit is out there, industriously raking the dirt when a Captain came out with a new assignment. He wants us to go into the woods around the trail, and collect all of the pine needles and pine cones. And then to make them into piles under the trees. To make the area look more natural.

I will repeat this, and highlight a few points that might not be obvious.

This Captain, who is a grown man, who has graduated from college, and presumably came from some sort of officer training program. A man who has been in the military for at least five years or so. And he orders us to go make piles of pine cones and pine needles under all of the trees. To make the woods more “natural looking”.

After issuing this order he wandered away. Presumably to dispense his wisdom to other needy soldiers. One of my NCOs scratched his head and went, “Natural? Do piles of pine-cones ever happen naturally?”

And I decided to be helpful.

“I thinks so Sgt. Squirrels do that sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yep. It’s how they bury their dead. You know, when they’re not burning them in little tiny long-ships.”

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One morning while I was still in the Army we got to do sports day PT. So instead of running or doing push-ups we got to play sports. Usually sports consisted of either football, or some other game that always started as a recognizable athletic competition, and would devolve into some sort of rugby/Ultimate Fighting hybrid. One thing was for sure, we felt pretty strongly that all sports were improved with the addition of tackling. And we tended to take a very liberal definition of what constituted a tackle. Good, if occasionally painful, times. To this day, I think that if Ultimate Frisbee was actually played the way we did it you would have a serious contender for a new Monday night sport.

Well on this particular morning we were playing soccer with our usual rambunctious glee. When suddenly, a few feet away from me, two soldiers collided. I will refer to these two soldiers as Boots and Nosy.

Boots had started out as an infantry NCO and had reclassed into PSYOP. SO he was a fairly big and imposing guy. Nosy was a particularly tiny female solder. And the bridge of her nose went into Boots’ forehead. Hard.

We all heard a loud crack and Boots staggered around comically for a few seconds and then collapsed. A few people laughed and he was told to get up and quit screwing around. And he kept laying there. It slowly dawned on us that he was not goofing off, he was hurt. A tiny female soldier half his size had just head-butted him into unconsciousness. We didn’t think of it this way at the time, but upon further reflection at a later date, this was determined to be freaking hilarious.

The game was halted and some of us began to give Boots first aid, while some other ran for a pay phone to summon an ambulance. I noticed that Nosy was standing over to the side, bleeding profusely from her face, with something poking out of her nose. She had a compound fracture. Nobody else was paying any attention to her and she didn’t even seem to realize that she was hurt.

I looked around for something to try to stop the blood and realized that the only cloth readily available were the PT uniforms we were wearing. I quickly reasoned that if I tried to take off her shirt to use as a pressure bandage, people might take that the wrong way. So I grabbed mine, looked for a spot without too much sweat on it, and tried to stop the bleeding. I didn’t even take it off first, I just kinda pulled it away from my torso. Eventually, someone showed up with an actual first aid kit and I got my shirt back. Once the paramedics showed up they looked over both our injured friends and determined that they would both be okay, but would probably need some stitches. The rest of PT was canceled and we were dismissed.

I was walking back into my barracks, and I was in a really good mood. You know that rush you sometimes get when you think something really bad has just happened, but it turned out okay? That’s how I felt. Just as I arrived on my floor, my roommate who was in another company, was leaving our room. Here’s how he described to me what he saw:

“I open the door, and here you are, coming down the hallway. You have a big, happy expression on your face, you’ve got a cigarette dangling out of your mouth, and you are whistling cheerfully. And your shirt and arms were covered with blood. I thought to myself ‘Oh crap. Schwarz has snapped and killed everyone at PT.’ ”

Which is probably why he ran back into the room and locked the door.

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A few weeks ago I posted a few stories that showed some examples of bad Army leadership. One of the readers, Fry, suggested that I post some examples of good leadership.

At one point during my military career we had several days of maintenance-type activities that had to be done in the vicinity of the motor pool. During the summer in North Carolina. Basically we got to spend several days in a row doing heavy work in a giant parking lot. It was hot and unpleasant. So another Specialist and I came up with a great idea. We’d stop at the PX on the way to the motorpool and buy a cooler and fill it with ice and drinks. We’d just ask people to pay what our costs were so that we didn’t go broke providing drinks for our company. We made the purchases and brought them to the motorpool, cheerful and anticipating praise from our chain of command for our thoughtfulness. Since this story is on my site, you can probably guess that this is not how things turned out.

Several NCOs approached me and my friend over this. Did they thank us for thinking of our comrades? No.

Did they comment on how we went out of our way and spent our own resources to take care our buddies? Nope.

They screamed at us. For about ten minutes. It seems that me and my friend, by bringing cold drinks for everybody, had succeeded in making our NCOs look bad. Because we had done more to take care of the soldiers in our company than they had. And they felt that we had done it deliberately.

About half an hour after this happened one of the NCOs came back. She wasn’t mad any more and, in fact, she looked ashamed.

She told us that if we made our NCOs look bad by helping out our buddies then that was a poor reflection on them, not us. She apologized for taking part in the NCO lynch mob and asked us how much we had paid for everything. She then handed me that amount of cash and just gave the drinks away to her soldiers.

Step 1: Be this person. If you screw up and one of your soldiers pays for it, have the decency to admit it, and if necessary, go back and make amends.

Another time I was asked to go to 4th PSYOP Group headquarters. Apparently there was some kind of meeting going on to determine what the new product development workstation was going to have. This was a laptop that would be used by an illustrator to create propaganda. And since I was an illustrator, someone thought my input might be helpful. When I get to the meeting I discover that I am the only enlisted person in the building. So there I am, in a room full of officers, who are very opinionated, and more or less totally ignorant about what the soldiers who were going to use the equipment actually did. So being in possession of more survival instinct than most of my readers would ever give me credit for, I sat very still and tried not to attract any notice. Eventually I failed.

“What are you doing here, Specialist?”, asked a Major with the almost exact tone of voice that you or I would say, “Ewww…I got some of that on my shoe.”

“My team SGT told me to come here, sir.”

“What unit are you from, and why did they send an E-4?”

“Because I’m an illustrator sir.”

And with that, a Colonel sitting on the opposite end of the room took notice. “You’re a 25 mike? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” And he then proceeded to direct all suggestions for the equipment through me because I was “The only one here whose ever gonna actually use this stuff”.

Step 2: Be this person. Sometimes your soldiers will have specialized or specific knowledge that you lack. It’s not beneath you to listen to them when that’s the case. It’s generally a good idea to be on the lookout for lower ranks that know things; they can help you make informed decisions.

And lastly, there is this story that I call “The Best Sergent Major Story Ever.” I did not serve under this particular NCO but I had this story relayed to me by a soldier who did. Doctors says at https://www.caladrius.com/order-cialis-cheap-20/ Cialis is the best remedy for the treatment of impotence. The chain-of-command had recently held several inspections on the barracks. And many soldiers had been dinged for various infractions. Dust on top of the blinds, shoes not neatly lined up under the bunk, clutter on the furniture. The sort of thing that soldiers get gigged on during an inspection. When it was done, many of the lower enlisted who lived in the barracks were getting reamed out for not having their living areas up to Army standards. During a formation afterwards the SGM gave a speech stressing the importance of always keeping your living area up to inspection standards. He then asked for a show of hands of those who had a cell phone. Confused, the soldiers that did, mostly officers, raised their hands.

“Please bring you cellular phones up here, and leave them with me for the remainder of this formation. Now, everyone who lives on post, you are dismissed, have a great weekend. Everyone who lives off post, please stay here. I will be carpooling out to your homes with you to inspect them. I’m sure that all of you are keeping your homes to the sames standards that you hold you soldiers to. And if any of you call home to have your wife, girlfriend, or pets start cleaning up I will have your ass. I can fit five at a time in my car; who wants to go first?”

Step 3: Sometimes it’s just awesome to fuck with people.

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My first MOS in the Army was 25M, or Multi-Media Illustrator. For those readers who are not Army, that was my Military Occupational Specialty. M-O-S is how soldiers say J-O-B. Now for some strange reason, the Army felt that the only possible use for Illustrators was in Airborne units. So all 25Ms had to go to jump school after their MOS training. So just imagine my surprise to find out that I was the only one who was going to jump out of planes. It would appear that my recruiter had lied to me.

Step one: Don’t be this guy.
Don’t lie to your soldiers to get things that you want from them. Your soldiers remember what you do, and they can talk to each other. You don’t want your troops to feel like you’d sell them out.

Nonetheless, I went off to jump school. I did promise to do so when I enlisted, and the extra money looked nice, so I kept up my end. The especially fun part was that I went during the summer. Which is when the cadets also attend jump school. This is significantly less fun than it sounds. Some of these cadets were from military academies, like West Point. They were generally pretty squared away and at least knew how to act like they were in the military. But many were ROTC cadets. Which meant that they were college students wearing a uniform. I have nothing against college students per se. But if your well-being depends on them not acting like college students, well, you might start to have some issues. The problems ranged from the comical, “Hey look…one third of the formation went the wrong way”, to the significantly less comical “Everyone is restricted to the barracks because one third of the formation went the wrong way”.

Here is one incident that stuck in my mind. At one point a bunch of us were on an assignment stacking reserve parachutes onto a storage rack. We were passing them in bucket-brigade style. One of the cadets near me said “One of these just came open, get a SGT Airborne quick”. So another private and myself ran off to grab an authority figure to report the problem to. All three of us returned to discover that all of the reserves chutes are fine. The SGT Airborne was angry. “Why did you waste my time Private?”

“That cadet told me one of the reserves came open.”
“SGT Airborne I have no idea what that Private is talking about.”

Step two: Don’t be this guy either.
My buddy and me wound up doing roughly a bazillion push ups over this. To this day I have no idea whether this was an accident or just a dumb punk kid’s idea of a funny joke. But in any case, don’t let your soldiers take the fall for your mistake. And if you do, try to have the decency to not look surprised when you discover what they did to your toothbrush.

But the worst offender is a guy who I will refer to as Cadet Snowflake. When I arrived at Ft. Benning, my luggage didn’t. Two other soldiers and one cadet where in the same fix as me. At one point after a formation, those of us that were missing our luggage were taken to see the Sergeant Major. He asked us a few questions about our luggage and which barracks we in so that he could make sure that we got it when the airline delivered it later. He made sure all of us had access to toiletries and that no one was missing any critical items. He summed up the whole thing by assuring us, “Don’t worry boys, Sergeant Major will get you squared away!”

“You’d damn well better!”

Four faces, totally incredulous, slowly turned to look at Mr. Special Snowflake.

“What. Did. You. Say. Cadet?”, asked the very senior, and should be noted, incredibly huge and scary NCO.

“I said you’d better get this taken care of. I’m going to hold you personally responsible for this.”

At this point the other soldiers and me tried to very slowly scoot ourselves away from Cadet Snowflake. We knew what was coming was going to be bad and we certainly didn’t want to get any of it on ourselves.

“I think I may have misheard you cadet.”

“I made myself clear. You’d better do what I say. I’m going to be a Lieutenant soon and then I’ll outrank you.”

For those of you who have not been in the military, I will give you this analogy. Imagine walking up to Chuck Norris. Now imagine telling him he’d better treat you nice because someday you’re going to start learning martial arts. And as soon as you train up enough to hold multiple black belts you’re going to kick his ass.

Now, a cadet mouthing off to the Sergeant Major is about a hundred times dumber than that.

Step Three: Definitely do not be this guy.
In fact, try to not even know this guy.

The lower enlisted were released and we got to hear the opening of a Grade-A ass chewing as we hurried away from ground zero. I never found out what happened to Cadet snowflake, but I strongly doubt his military career lasted for much longer. I do know that he didn’t attend jump school with us.

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