That’s what I am in right now, pure and simple. That’s the only way I can seem to explain the way I feel about going to Afghanistan. At a time when more than 50% of the guys in my battalion would gladly skip this deployment I am actually fighting to go. When asked why, I have been going with my generic fallback answer of money and college money but I don’t feel that those are the reasons anymore. I volunteered for this deployment 1 month after I got back from Iraq and the main reason being at that time was because I knew I would have to go whether I wanted to or not. Having been in the Army for some time I knew that it would behoove me to volunteer and go to a unit of my choice before I was voluntold and sent to a unit I would not like.
For my Iraq deployment money and college money were definitely a couple motivating factors but not so much this time around. I have been thinking a lot about this lately because so many of my friends both military and civilian think I am absolutely crazy for wanting to go. And I can see where they are coming from, I have no illusions about this deployment. It is going to suck and it is going to suck a lot. For one thing the weather over there is going to be extreme, extreme cold and extreme hot, two things I am not fond of. Also the living conditions are going to be way different than Iraq was. This time around there will be no climate controlled CHU with a defined living space and hard wired internet. Nope this time around it will be tents with wood floors.
So why am I so determined to go? Well it came to me while I was serving with my unit at Camp Grayling this last September. Plain and simple, because all my friends that I went to Iraq with are going. That right now is my driving force, my tunnel vision. It really hit home while I was working at the squad live fire range which every company from my battalion had to go through. All my friends that I made while serving in Iraq are sprinkled throughout the battalion in different companies. So as each company finished at the range I found myself having to say goodbye to my friends as they go onto more training in Mississippi before they leave for Afghanistan. And here I was stuck at home as they are leaving, it was not a good feeling. Saying goodbye to my friend Jim was the hardest of all, especially after he confided in me on how nervous he was about this deployment. It really hit me harder than I thought it would.
And last but not least it has always been my belief that if you are serving in the military, either active or reserves, you should be able to deploy. What is the point of being in the military if you are not able to go to war which is the main reason for having an Army in the first place. I see some soldiers here in the Michigan guard that have been in for 10 years or more yet they have never deployed and quite honestly it annoys the hell out of me. I dont ever want to be that guy.
So not to follow too many clichés. I want to go so that I can serve with my buddies to the left and right of me. Personally I do not hold much interest in the inner workings of Afghanistan, that’s not to mean that I do not care. But it is what it is, much like in Iraq, the future of Afghanistan is going to be made by the people of Afghanistan and not by whatever policy the United States may have in mind.
I do have to admit also that part of it is because the battalion medical officer made it pretty clear that he did not think I would be able to recover from my injury enough to be able to deploy. If there is one thing that motivates me to do something it is being told that I cant. For good or bad .
Bottom line, I want to go to Afghanistan because all my buddies are going and I do not want to sit at home while they are over there. That is why I am fighting to and determined to go.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
A short story-Fear
Below is a short story which I wrote for,and was first published in,the Huron River Review's volume 10. The Huron River review is a book of short stories,peotry and pictures contributed by current and former students of Washtenaw Community College.I wrote this story in the summer of 2010 when I first returned from Iraq and I was having a difficult time sleeping.Enjoy!
Fear
A train whistle , that damn train whistle, that far away lonely train whistle that prevented my sleep for so long. That train whistle that cut through the still night air all those nights. I can hear it, floating across the night air, singing its forlorn song for all the world to hear. That one note slowly repeating itself over and over in that long slow drawl. Like an unwanted alarm clock that you have no power to turn off, bleating in the night, interrupting all the stillness outside my bedroom window. Is that what has woken me this night?
Is it the wind chimes? The sing song of the wind chimes that you actually missed not so long ago. Gently tinkling in the mid summer breeze. The wind chimes that used to serenade me to sleep, that gave me that homey feeling. That sound that used to comfort me. That feeling that everything was alright in the world. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the quiet then? The total and complete silence, that quiet that kept me awake those many nights. That quiet that permeates the night, that lays a dark blanket over my thoughts, keeps me from sleeping. The quiet that can be so loud sometimes, it keeps me awake for what seems like weeks, the quiet that almost drove me mad. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the soft bump at my door, the nervous shuffling of feet on the wood floor. The slightest whimper issued from the throat, labored panting of distress. Is that what has woken me this night?
Then the sound again, that soft rumble in the distance. That sound that awakens the fear in me. The soft rumble that is slowly followed by the deep ripping sound as if the sky is tearing apart. It is a familiar sound, or is it? In that rift between sleep and reality it is hard to discern. Are those explosions in the distance?
The panic hits full force now, the hammering of my heart in my chest as if it is trying to burst through. The cool tingly release of pure adrenaline into the blood stream. My hands start to shake and my mind starts to race.
I jump out of bed in a total and complete frenzy. Where am I? What is going on? Where is my rifle, my helmet, my body armor? Searching the room with glazed, half-asleep eyes. The reality still escapes me. Only one thing on my mind. I have to get to safety, to the bunkers. Those cool, crypt-like shelters that are supposed to keep you safe. Those sandbag fortresses filled with other wide eyed soldiers praying silently under muted breath. The fear is like an electrical charge crackling in the air. So palpable you can actually feel the hair on your arms rise.
In that space between dreams and reality where everything is fuzzy and unclear I can hear him now. Impatient, waiting for me to open the door. As I reach out to open the door and let him in, I am still not sure if all this is real. Is it a dream, a nightmare?
He comes in hesitantly at first not really sure if this is the safest spot to be, but knowing it is safer than where he has come from. I’ve had the same feeling before. He hears the distant noise also and it affects him the same way. That deep rumble that has no origin, that comes out of nowhere.
He feels that same tightness in his chest. I can see it in his eyes, those deep brown eyes that usually hold nothing but innocence and happiness. That deep-rooted fear that starts in the gut and slowly works its way to the rest of the body. Radiating from my center, all my muscles constricting, my body shaking with anticipation. How is it possible that all my muscles can constrict at once? My mouth goes dry and I find it hard to swallow. That fear that seems to coat my mouth and tongue, thickening, overpowering. The weird coppery taste in my mouth, the buzzing in my ears. My eyes seem to grow and everything becomes clearer, crisper. I am the master of time. Yet, I feel as if I am moving through syrup. The kind that is thick and soupy, the kind that slows you down. I get that queasy feeling in my stomach. That loose feeling deep in my belly that makes me feel like vomiting.
He enters the room, it is always the same, those sideways glances, furtively seeking the safest spot. Is it under the desk? Is it under the bed? Is it inside the closet? But it always ends up the same, the safest most secure spot is on the bed next to me. I slowly drift back into the real world, I am not over there. My rifle is not next to the bed, I no longer have a need for a helmet or body armor. There is no need to run to the concrete shelters. There are no explosions, just the soft distant rumblings of a mid-summer thunderstorm.
As my heart rate slows and the immediate panic fades, I climb back into bed. Knowing that I will not be going to sleep any time soon, secure in the knowledge that I am finally home, safe. My buddy looks at me with soft pleading eyes and I pat the spot next to me on the bed. He jumps up eagerly. I gently stroke his head and he rewards me with a wet tongue across the face. Just me and my dog lying in bed listening to the rain.
This story is dedicated to my dog Smokey 2001-2011.
Fear
A train whistle , that damn train whistle, that far away lonely train whistle that prevented my sleep for so long. That train whistle that cut through the still night air all those nights. I can hear it, floating across the night air, singing its forlorn song for all the world to hear. That one note slowly repeating itself over and over in that long slow drawl. Like an unwanted alarm clock that you have no power to turn off, bleating in the night, interrupting all the stillness outside my bedroom window. Is that what has woken me this night?
Is it the wind chimes? The sing song of the wind chimes that you actually missed not so long ago. Gently tinkling in the mid summer breeze. The wind chimes that used to serenade me to sleep, that gave me that homey feeling. That sound that used to comfort me. That feeling that everything was alright in the world. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the quiet then? The total and complete silence, that quiet that kept me awake those many nights. That quiet that permeates the night, that lays a dark blanket over my thoughts, keeps me from sleeping. The quiet that can be so loud sometimes, it keeps me awake for what seems like weeks, the quiet that almost drove me mad. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the soft bump at my door, the nervous shuffling of feet on the wood floor. The slightest whimper issued from the throat, labored panting of distress. Is that what has woken me this night?
Then the sound again, that soft rumble in the distance. That sound that awakens the fear in me. The soft rumble that is slowly followed by the deep ripping sound as if the sky is tearing apart. It is a familiar sound, or is it? In that rift between sleep and reality it is hard to discern. Are those explosions in the distance?
The panic hits full force now, the hammering of my heart in my chest as if it is trying to burst through. The cool tingly release of pure adrenaline into the blood stream. My hands start to shake and my mind starts to race.
I jump out of bed in a total and complete frenzy. Where am I? What is going on? Where is my rifle, my helmet, my body armor? Searching the room with glazed, half-asleep eyes. The reality still escapes me. Only one thing on my mind. I have to get to safety, to the bunkers. Those cool, crypt-like shelters that are supposed to keep you safe. Those sandbag fortresses filled with other wide eyed soldiers praying silently under muted breath. The fear is like an electrical charge crackling in the air. So palpable you can actually feel the hair on your arms rise.
In that space between dreams and reality where everything is fuzzy and unclear I can hear him now. Impatient, waiting for me to open the door. As I reach out to open the door and let him in, I am still not sure if all this is real. Is it a dream, a nightmare?
He comes in hesitantly at first not really sure if this is the safest spot to be, but knowing it is safer than where he has come from. I’ve had the same feeling before. He hears the distant noise also and it affects him the same way. That deep rumble that has no origin, that comes out of nowhere.
He feels that same tightness in his chest. I can see it in his eyes, those deep brown eyes that usually hold nothing but innocence and happiness. That deep-rooted fear that starts in the gut and slowly works its way to the rest of the body. Radiating from my center, all my muscles constricting, my body shaking with anticipation. How is it possible that all my muscles can constrict at once? My mouth goes dry and I find it hard to swallow. That fear that seems to coat my mouth and tongue, thickening, overpowering. The weird coppery taste in my mouth, the buzzing in my ears. My eyes seem to grow and everything becomes clearer, crisper. I am the master of time. Yet, I feel as if I am moving through syrup. The kind that is thick and soupy, the kind that slows you down. I get that queasy feeling in my stomach. That loose feeling deep in my belly that makes me feel like vomiting.
He enters the room, it is always the same, those sideways glances, furtively seeking the safest spot. Is it under the desk? Is it under the bed? Is it inside the closet? But it always ends up the same, the safest most secure spot is on the bed next to me. I slowly drift back into the real world, I am not over there. My rifle is not next to the bed, I no longer have a need for a helmet or body armor. There is no need to run to the concrete shelters. There are no explosions, just the soft distant rumblings of a mid-summer thunderstorm.
As my heart rate slows and the immediate panic fades, I climb back into bed. Knowing that I will not be going to sleep any time soon, secure in the knowledge that I am finally home, safe. My buddy looks at me with soft pleading eyes and I pat the spot next to me on the bed. He jumps up eagerly. I gently stroke his head and he rewards me with a wet tongue across the face. Just me and my dog lying in bed listening to the rain.
This story is dedicated to my dog Smokey 2001-2011.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
On being "Home"
Being home has been a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I was under the false assumption, that having been to war before, that coming home would be easier. But I have actually found that this time around was actually harder. The last few weeks in Iraq I couldn't wait to get home, but once I got here I felt extremely out of place. Basically it felt like I had been in a time warp where nothing at home had changed. Yet I had been to this foreign land and done all these crazy things over the last year (I have been home for 10 months and I still feel out of place). I found that the things that I thought I missed the most while I was overseas were not that exciting to me anymore. For instance, just hanging out in a bar and drinking, I found to be incredibly boring when I got back. I had all these aspirations to do all these things with all my friends that I had missed over the year. But after a few months of hanging out, all I wanted to do was have some quiet me time. Part of the reason for this is that over there you can never be alone. No matter where you go you are stuck on the FOB where there is always someone around.
One thing that made it harder for me being home was going on vacation to Korea so soon after coming home from Iraq. I should have waited at least four months before I went there. Traveling from one side of the globe to the other and back again really did nothing for my sleep schedule. The few weeks I was home from Iraq before I went to Korea I was unable to sleep. On a side note, when I got to Korea I had no problem sleeping. A lot of it had to do with the time zones, your body gets used to a certain sleep cycle when you maintain it for several months. So when I got home, I found it incredibly hard to adjust to the new time zone. I actually had to go the doctor and get sleeping pills because for several months I was unable to sleep for more than four hours at a time. Changing time zones had a lot to do with it but I also think that there was a lot of stress involved. My unit did not see very much combat while we were in Iraq, but nonetheless it was still a very stressful deployment. Being on constant alert for 10 months really wears you down.
Another mistake I made was not going back to work, I'm sure that when I go back to work I will want to kick myself in the ass for saying this. But I really do think that it was not a good idea. Going from being constantly busy, to a dead stop, did not work well for me. Going to school has alleviated a lot of the boredom. I constantly have to remind myself that the reason I went back into the military was so that I could go back to school. I am now in my second semester at Washtenaw community college and I am still enjoying it for the most part. But I find myself still not sure of what I want to go to school for. I am taking a introduction to journalism class this semester which has convinced me that that is not something I want to do. I am still considering becoming a high school English teacher, but I have not committed 100%. One thing for sure, I am done with construction, I have absolutely no interest in it anymore. Although after my next deployment I may have to do some of that type of work when I return just to keep myself busy.
Besides the basic stress of returning home after a year-long deployment in Iraq I have been plagued with several bad incidents concerning friends and family. It just seemed that it was one thing after another and I just couldn't catch a break. With these events and the grayness of winter I found myself in a deep depression. I would actually find at times that I missed being in Iraq as silly as that sounds. And I find myself actually looking forward to my upcoming deployment to Afghanistan. I know that sounds crazy but when I am here at home I feel like a lump on a log. I know that it will be dangerous over there but I find myself incredibly bored here. When you are overseas on deployment you actually feel as if you are a part of something bigger than yourself. I find myself on a fence when it comes to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I no longer feel that we have any business over there and that no matter what we do, nothing over there in either of those countries is going to change. Yet, if we are going to be at war, I find myself wanting to be over there at least doing something as opposed to being home and doing nothing. I think that serving in the military has made me somewhat of a adrenaline junkie. In the movie "The Hurt Locker" in the ending credits they make the statement "war is a drug" which I find to be a fairly true statement. The best way I can describe it is a quote from a soldier in the movie "Restrepo": reporter, how are you going to reintegrate back into civilian life, soldier "I honestly have no idea".
One thing that made it harder for me being home was going on vacation to Korea so soon after coming home from Iraq. I should have waited at least four months before I went there. Traveling from one side of the globe to the other and back again really did nothing for my sleep schedule. The few weeks I was home from Iraq before I went to Korea I was unable to sleep. On a side note, when I got to Korea I had no problem sleeping. A lot of it had to do with the time zones, your body gets used to a certain sleep cycle when you maintain it for several months. So when I got home, I found it incredibly hard to adjust to the new time zone. I actually had to go the doctor and get sleeping pills because for several months I was unable to sleep for more than four hours at a time. Changing time zones had a lot to do with it but I also think that there was a lot of stress involved. My unit did not see very much combat while we were in Iraq, but nonetheless it was still a very stressful deployment. Being on constant alert for 10 months really wears you down.
Another mistake I made was not going back to work, I'm sure that when I go back to work I will want to kick myself in the ass for saying this. But I really do think that it was not a good idea. Going from being constantly busy, to a dead stop, did not work well for me. Going to school has alleviated a lot of the boredom. I constantly have to remind myself that the reason I went back into the military was so that I could go back to school. I am now in my second semester at Washtenaw community college and I am still enjoying it for the most part. But I find myself still not sure of what I want to go to school for. I am taking a introduction to journalism class this semester which has convinced me that that is not something I want to do. I am still considering becoming a high school English teacher, but I have not committed 100%. One thing for sure, I am done with construction, I have absolutely no interest in it anymore. Although after my next deployment I may have to do some of that type of work when I return just to keep myself busy.
Besides the basic stress of returning home after a year-long deployment in Iraq I have been plagued with several bad incidents concerning friends and family. It just seemed that it was one thing after another and I just couldn't catch a break. With these events and the grayness of winter I found myself in a deep depression. I would actually find at times that I missed being in Iraq as silly as that sounds. And I find myself actually looking forward to my upcoming deployment to Afghanistan. I know that sounds crazy but when I am here at home I feel like a lump on a log. I know that it will be dangerous over there but I find myself incredibly bored here. When you are overseas on deployment you actually feel as if you are a part of something bigger than yourself. I find myself on a fence when it comes to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I no longer feel that we have any business over there and that no matter what we do, nothing over there in either of those countries is going to change. Yet, if we are going to be at war, I find myself wanting to be over there at least doing something as opposed to being home and doing nothing. I think that serving in the military has made me somewhat of a adrenaline junkie. In the movie "The Hurt Locker" in the ending credits they make the statement "war is a drug" which I find to be a fairly true statement. The best way I can describe it is a quote from a soldier in the movie "Restrepo": reporter, how are you going to reintegrate back into civilian life, soldier "I honestly have no idea".
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Back to it
As the people following my blog can see I made another post today. I took a long hiatus Since Iraq basically concentrating on getting back into the swing of things here at home, vacation and getting into my school routine. I have plenty more to write about from my adventures in Iraq and of course I will be starting the process of pre-deployment / deployment all over again in the coming months. Yes it is true, I volunteered for a tour in Afghanistan and I will be heading that way middle of next year or so. Just wanted to let people know that the blog is no where near to being over.
Stranger in a strange land
Well I have to say that Korea is nothing that I had expected it to be. It is not a bad place to visit but I find myself getting bored quickly. In hindsight I would say that three weeks here is too much, you could probably see all the cool sights and absorb the culture in about ten days or so. The culture here is very secular meaning that there is not a whole lot of outside influence. They do of course have some foreign brand names here but for the most part everything is Korean. One thing that I found to be different from a lot of countries is that hardly anyone here speaks English. Not that I am saying that foreign countries should adopt English but I have found in my various travels over the globe that even in most foreign countries there would be a portion that could speak at least a little English. Not here, though it makes for some interesting communication usually involving various hand gestures and pointing at objects. Basically trying to communicate here is a giant game of charades or pictionary.
One of the reasons I say that three weeks is too long is because pretty much every city in Korea is exactly the same. Without much outside influence they seem to be happy all looking the same. They all have the same style of clothing, the same haircuts (men and women) and when you are walking down the street the same stores. They may have a shopping district or market area that covers 5 square city blocks but on every block you will see the same types of stores. I think you could really get the feel of Korea by visiting Seoul, the DMZ (the de-militarized zone between North and South Korea) and Jeju Island.
For the most part the Korean people are very friendly and courteous but there are defiantly some here that want nothing to do with foreigners. Here in Korea a foreigner is referred to as a way-gook (now I know where the American soldiers from the Korean and Vietnam wars got their Monikers for the enemy soldiers which was gook) and every once in a while you will get called that, usually by an older man or woman. The younger generation seems to be a lot more accepting of foreigners than the older generations seem to be. One thing that I have had a hard time adjusting to here is the staring, every where you go people stare at you. Korea is not really a big tourist attraction, probably because no one knows anything about it. You can go days here without seeing another foreigner, in the bigger cities like Seoul and Daeygo they are more prolific but even then they are few and far between. So when you are walking around town you are defiantly the oddity and people will just blatantly stare at you which after a while can become quite annoying. Of course if you want to see a bunch of Americans you can always go to the Itchewon section of Seoul where you can witness the complete stupidity of our glorious American soldiers that are stationed here, idiotic morons that make Americans look like total retards (I just cant even put into words how annoyed I was when I went to the American GI section of Seoul, don’t get me wrong I have had my “I am in the Army away from home moments” but this was just ridiculous).
The foreign exchange here is not too bad. The Korean dollar is called a Won and at this point in time 1,000 Won equals about .80 U.S. cents. They also have coins which are the 500 won coin and the 100 won coin (I have been trying to get rid of all my coins but it seems to be impossible, my pack is now full of them and the exchange people at the airport are probably going to have me killed) When looking at the prices of things I just round up and think of it as 1,000 won to one dollar. Things are fairly cheap here you can get a full Korean meal for around 5000 or 6000 Won and a bottle of Soju for around 1500 Won. Those prices are for the basic Korean cuisine you can also of course go to a fancy restraunt and pay 300,000 Won for a meal, no thanks.
Soju is liquor that is made from potatoes or rice and tastes like watered down vodka. When it is mixed with any type of fruit juice it is extremely dangerous. Soju used to be made entirely from rice but when the Korean War started the government told the people that they had to stop making it out of rice which they all needed for food so then they started making it out of potatoes. The cheaper versions of Soju are still made from potatoes but you can also get Soju that is made from rice for a little bit more money. The potato soju is about 40 proof and the rice soju is 80 proof. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are drinking soju, don’t be fooled by the lower proof, it sneaks up on you. There are some other unknown ingredients in there and in some of the cheaper versions there is definably a chemical type after taste. There is also a type of beer here called Malaki that is made of rice. I say beer because it kind of tastes like beer and is carbonated but that is where the comparison ends. It is a while milky color and not as carbonated as beer but has a higher alcohol content then our version of beer.
They have what I would term a drinking culture here in Korea. Public drunkenness is not frowned upon and you will frequently see young and old alike staggering down the streets in various stages of drunkenness. A lot of the drinking establishments here also do not have a specific closing time, they seem to close when the last customer leaves (or whenever they get tired of serving you). You can leave a bar at 4AM walk to the GS25 store (there is one on damn near every corner) and go buy as much booze as you like and sit on a park bench or on a street curb if you feel like it and drink till the sun comes up. But besides the occasional drunkard bobbling down the street there is very little crime in Korea. One cause for this is that there are video cameras everywhere. When I first got here I was in Iraq mode and would scan all the rooftops and look at all the buildings around me and the first thing I noticed was all the cameras. Even on the 30 story buildings of downtown Seoul they had cameras. They also have cameras on almost all of the traffic signal poles; they even have specially equipped police cars with cameras on the roof of the car that can be moved around by the cops inside.
Korean food is pretty basic meaning they do not have a lot of different dishes. There is of course the basic Bee Bim Bob dish which in America is pretty much the same, here in Korea there are a few more options but basically it is the same, a big bowl of rice with a bunch of stuff on top and the red sauce. They also have what they call Galbi which is Korean BBQ; it is not really BBQ like with sauce and what not. Basically you sit on a floor around a table and in the center of the table is a place for a tub of hot coals. They place the coals in, cover it with a metal plate then give you a plate of whatever meat you have ordered and you cook it yourself. There are a bunch of smaller side dishes mostly consisting of fresh vegetables with Kimchi sauce that come also. They do have Chinese, Japanese and other foreign food restraunts here but the difference between those types of restraunts here and the ones back home is that all that foreign food here is still cooked by Koreans so in most cases it is not that good.
One great thing about Korea is they are very energy conscious. You can literally take a bus from Seoul to Buson for about 35,000 won which equals about 28 American Dollars, now keep in mind that Korea is a small country ( about the size of Minnesota ) but even so that is a pretty good deal. All the cars here are of the economical variety and a lot of people ride little scooters or bicycles. A lot of the lights inside buildings are motion detection lights that turn off after a minute or so. They also do way more recycling than America; they have collection points spread out all over. Also instead of just one trash can there will be four in a row for each different type of trash.
As far as the whole North / South thing goes there does not seem to be much interest in re-integration. Most of the partially English speaking Koreans I have met don’t want to re-integrate with North Korea because it would be such a huge economic burden for the south. Also a lot of the families that have been split up by the Korean War have died off. I have been thanked numerous times, by people that find out I am in the Army, for Americas help during the Korean War which is an actual feel good moment. When I came here there was a lot of posturizing between the North and South over the sinking of the South Korean Naval warship. The American news agencies were making it sound as if war in Korea was just around the corner. Not one person mentioned it the whole time I have been here. Let that be a lesson for you about the Fear Factor American news machine.
One thing here in Korea that I think is absolutely brilliant are the Korean showers. Basically in your bathroom instead of having a separate shower stall your bathroom IS the shower stall. So not only can you take a shower but you can clean your bathroom at the same time. When you are done you just squeegee the floor and you are good to go. A couple things to keep in mind though. Make sure to put the toilet paper up and also be sure to put your change of clothes or towel in a semi dry spot. Other than that, simply genius. Another great aspect is you can pee in the shower (at least us boys, might not work as well for the girls) and no I do not mean on the floor. Usually the toilet is situated right across from the shower head, how excellent is that.
One of the reasons I say that three weeks is too long is because pretty much every city in Korea is exactly the same. Without much outside influence they seem to be happy all looking the same. They all have the same style of clothing, the same haircuts (men and women) and when you are walking down the street the same stores. They may have a shopping district or market area that covers 5 square city blocks but on every block you will see the same types of stores. I think you could really get the feel of Korea by visiting Seoul, the DMZ (the de-militarized zone between North and South Korea) and Jeju Island.
For the most part the Korean people are very friendly and courteous but there are defiantly some here that want nothing to do with foreigners. Here in Korea a foreigner is referred to as a way-gook (now I know where the American soldiers from the Korean and Vietnam wars got their Monikers for the enemy soldiers which was gook) and every once in a while you will get called that, usually by an older man or woman. The younger generation seems to be a lot more accepting of foreigners than the older generations seem to be. One thing that I have had a hard time adjusting to here is the staring, every where you go people stare at you. Korea is not really a big tourist attraction, probably because no one knows anything about it. You can go days here without seeing another foreigner, in the bigger cities like Seoul and Daeygo they are more prolific but even then they are few and far between. So when you are walking around town you are defiantly the oddity and people will just blatantly stare at you which after a while can become quite annoying. Of course if you want to see a bunch of Americans you can always go to the Itchewon section of Seoul where you can witness the complete stupidity of our glorious American soldiers that are stationed here, idiotic morons that make Americans look like total retards (I just cant even put into words how annoyed I was when I went to the American GI section of Seoul, don’t get me wrong I have had my “I am in the Army away from home moments” but this was just ridiculous).
The foreign exchange here is not too bad. The Korean dollar is called a Won and at this point in time 1,000 Won equals about .80 U.S. cents. They also have coins which are the 500 won coin and the 100 won coin (I have been trying to get rid of all my coins but it seems to be impossible, my pack is now full of them and the exchange people at the airport are probably going to have me killed) When looking at the prices of things I just round up and think of it as 1,000 won to one dollar. Things are fairly cheap here you can get a full Korean meal for around 5000 or 6000 Won and a bottle of Soju for around 1500 Won. Those prices are for the basic Korean cuisine you can also of course go to a fancy restraunt and pay 300,000 Won for a meal, no thanks.
Soju is liquor that is made from potatoes or rice and tastes like watered down vodka. When it is mixed with any type of fruit juice it is extremely dangerous. Soju used to be made entirely from rice but when the Korean War started the government told the people that they had to stop making it out of rice which they all needed for food so then they started making it out of potatoes. The cheaper versions of Soju are still made from potatoes but you can also get Soju that is made from rice for a little bit more money. The potato soju is about 40 proof and the rice soju is 80 proof. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are drinking soju, don’t be fooled by the lower proof, it sneaks up on you. There are some other unknown ingredients in there and in some of the cheaper versions there is definably a chemical type after taste. There is also a type of beer here called Malaki that is made of rice. I say beer because it kind of tastes like beer and is carbonated but that is where the comparison ends. It is a while milky color and not as carbonated as beer but has a higher alcohol content then our version of beer.
They have what I would term a drinking culture here in Korea. Public drunkenness is not frowned upon and you will frequently see young and old alike staggering down the streets in various stages of drunkenness. A lot of the drinking establishments here also do not have a specific closing time, they seem to close when the last customer leaves (or whenever they get tired of serving you). You can leave a bar at 4AM walk to the GS25 store (there is one on damn near every corner) and go buy as much booze as you like and sit on a park bench or on a street curb if you feel like it and drink till the sun comes up. But besides the occasional drunkard bobbling down the street there is very little crime in Korea. One cause for this is that there are video cameras everywhere. When I first got here I was in Iraq mode and would scan all the rooftops and look at all the buildings around me and the first thing I noticed was all the cameras. Even on the 30 story buildings of downtown Seoul they had cameras. They also have cameras on almost all of the traffic signal poles; they even have specially equipped police cars with cameras on the roof of the car that can be moved around by the cops inside.
Korean food is pretty basic meaning they do not have a lot of different dishes. There is of course the basic Bee Bim Bob dish which in America is pretty much the same, here in Korea there are a few more options but basically it is the same, a big bowl of rice with a bunch of stuff on top and the red sauce. They also have what they call Galbi which is Korean BBQ; it is not really BBQ like with sauce and what not. Basically you sit on a floor around a table and in the center of the table is a place for a tub of hot coals. They place the coals in, cover it with a metal plate then give you a plate of whatever meat you have ordered and you cook it yourself. There are a bunch of smaller side dishes mostly consisting of fresh vegetables with Kimchi sauce that come also. They do have Chinese, Japanese and other foreign food restraunts here but the difference between those types of restraunts here and the ones back home is that all that foreign food here is still cooked by Koreans so in most cases it is not that good.
One great thing about Korea is they are very energy conscious. You can literally take a bus from Seoul to Buson for about 35,000 won which equals about 28 American Dollars, now keep in mind that Korea is a small country ( about the size of Minnesota ) but even so that is a pretty good deal. All the cars here are of the economical variety and a lot of people ride little scooters or bicycles. A lot of the lights inside buildings are motion detection lights that turn off after a minute or so. They also do way more recycling than America; they have collection points spread out all over. Also instead of just one trash can there will be four in a row for each different type of trash.
As far as the whole North / South thing goes there does not seem to be much interest in re-integration. Most of the partially English speaking Koreans I have met don’t want to re-integrate with North Korea because it would be such a huge economic burden for the south. Also a lot of the families that have been split up by the Korean War have died off. I have been thanked numerous times, by people that find out I am in the Army, for Americas help during the Korean War which is an actual feel good moment. When I came here there was a lot of posturizing between the North and South over the sinking of the South Korean Naval warship. The American news agencies were making it sound as if war in Korea was just around the corner. Not one person mentioned it the whole time I have been here. Let that be a lesson for you about the Fear Factor American news machine.
One thing here in Korea that I think is absolutely brilliant are the Korean showers. Basically in your bathroom instead of having a separate shower stall your bathroom IS the shower stall. So not only can you take a shower but you can clean your bathroom at the same time. When you are done you just squeegee the floor and you are good to go. A couple things to keep in mind though. Make sure to put the toilet paper up and also be sure to put your change of clothes or towel in a semi dry spot. Other than that, simply genius. Another great aspect is you can pee in the shower (at least us boys, might not work as well for the girls) and no I do not mean on the floor. Usually the toilet is situated right across from the shower head, how excellent is that.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Travelings of a moron
Well my Korean vacation really got started on the wrong foot I would say. Mostly due to my own ineptness. Every time I looked at my ticket, I was looking at when my flight left L.A. for Seoul and the date of that flight was on Friday 18 June. Well I was not paying attention and the real deal was that I was leaving Detroit on Thursday but I was thinking for some reason that I was leaving on Friday. Well imagine my joy while sitting at my desk in my boxers looking at my ticket reservation and realizing that my flight out of Detroit was actually leaving 2 and a half hours from that very moment in time. I am eternally grateful that I am somewhat OCD about packing so I had already packed most of my stuff. So then began the mad dash of packing my computer and a few other things and rushing to the airport. My friend Bjorn was home at the time and I enlisted him to give me a ride to the airport (we almost died on the way) and he actually got me there in time (felonious driving). I then pulled the military card, got myself into the fast moving security line, and began my O.J. Simpson run through the airport to my gate. Got to the gate only to find out that the damn plane was an hour late, oh well. When I ran out of the house in a blind panic I only had the very most basic flight information with me and very little of the information that Jody had sent to me about the guest house we would be staying in in Seoul, not good. I would be punished for this later.
We finally load up the plane and I start my slow process to Korea. The service was horrible on this flight, I asked for a blanket three times and it finally got to me 2 hours into the flight. By that time, I was already into the late stages of hypothermia because for some reason it was cold as hell on the plane. Then when they finally gave me the blanket the flight attendant asked me “are you happy now?” I wanted to stab her in the neck with a dull pickle fork. (*Side note : why did Delta buy Northwest? I thought Northwest was the bigger better airline. My flight to L.A. with Delta sucked and if I can avoid it, I will not be using them for travel again anytime in the near future). I think I was also in a foul mood because I was not ready for this trip, you know, thinking that I was supposed to have been leaving the following day and all. To make my trip even more enjoyable there was a man and women on the plane that were not able to control their children whatsoever. I pretty much take it into account that no matter when I fly there is going to be a screaming child on the flight. I have resigned myself to this fact. However, usually the screaming offender is shushed and not encouraged to scream at the top of their bloody lungs for hours on end. For one thing, they had a boy of about seven whom I am convinced had TB as he coughed for the whole flight. I felt bad for the little guy but I wanted to pour hot oil on the fathers head as he sat there and did not try and cover his child’s mouth for the whole coughing fit duration. Then there was the 4-year-old girl who literally screamed at the top of her lungs for 15 minutes at a time with brief 5-minute oxygen breaks in between while the mother just sat there with a goofy smile on her face (there just never seems to be enough bullets). Finally we arrive in L.A. and of course we are an hour late which is cutting into my in between flights smoke break I was planning on taking. Once on the ground they tell me that not only do I have to go to the international terminal but also I have to go there “right now”. Back to running through the damn airport, out the front doors and a quarter mile to the international terminal, son of a…!
Let me just say that the folks at Korean air were very helpful and courteous and I really enjoyed flying with them so basically the exact opposite of Delta. What I did not enjoy was that they told me that they were going to be loading the plane an hour early and that I really needed to start heading towards the gate because the line to get through security was taking about an hour to get through.( *Side note #2, it really annoys me that when you are late for your flight through no fault of your own they do not have a “I am late for my flight through no fault of my own” fast lane to get through security.) And Guess what, no &*%$##$&* smoke break and no using the military ID to get through the fast lane here. By this time I am getting a little cranky because it is midnight my time and I had gotten up early that morning and done a bunch of running around town, why, because I thought I was leaving on Friday, idiot.
I finally got to the gate and quickly realized that I was going to be one of three westerners on a flight of 300. The flight was not bad, I did manage to get some sleep, and I had Korean airline food, which was entertaining. It was a long flight, thirteen hours, but I do have to say having just done that same flight more or less coming back from Iraq that this one was much more enjoyable as a civilian. I arrived in Korea at five a.m. Saturday morning; this too is a huge mistake on my part because I had told Jody that I would be arriving Friday morning at five a.m. I told her that because I am a moron and forgot to add the day to account for flying halfway around the damn world. Now the fun really begins because A: at this time I actually think that it is Friday morning and B: when I left the house I only had time to write down the most basic information that Jody had given me in regards to where we were going to be staying in Seoul. I should probably explain that the airport is actually in a city called Incheon which is an island and about 1 hour away from Seoul. They have a bus line that you can take but after 18 hours of flying and airport time I was not in the mood for a bus ride so I had already decided on the flight over that I would pony up the hundred dollars for the cab ride. As soon as I cleared customs I got the piece of paper on which I had scribbled as much information onto as possible and thought that I was good to go, nope wrong answer do not pass Go do not collect two hundred dollars. One bit of info that Jody had given me was her phone number , good deal right, not if your damn $%^**&*(%&$&$%##!!!!!!!! Expensive ass super cool touch screen internet wireless thing a ma jigger phone doesn’t work in Korea. So cant call Jody, no big deal right, we still have the name of the guest house we are staying at right, wrong wrong wrong wrong. I had the name of the guesthouse but not which guest house because it is a G****** chain, aaarrrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I mention that while I am realizing all of this I have 3 chicken hawk taxi pimps trying to get me into their taxicabs. It was a little much after all my traveling but one good thing about them was that some of them spoke a little bit of English. So besides not being able to call Jody and not having the true address of where I am going I still have one trick up my sleeve, my computer. So I tell the guy that speaks the most English that I need to find someplace with internet and he directs me to a free internet café. Now we are good to go right, NO we are not good to go, laptop battery is dead. Holy mother of all that is unfair in the universe…………! Long story even longer I go to the little store in the airport and buy a plug adapter for the laptop, plug it in and the taxi guy uses his phone camera to take a picture of the info off my laptop screen. So finally things are going my way, get in the cab, smoke damn near a pack on the way to Seoul and arrive at the guesthouse. It is during this ride that I am informed that no it is not Friday morning but instead it is Saturday morning and Jody has been waiting all night for me to arrive. The last thing the taxi driver says to me is “ you are a bad traveler” to which I have no reply because by this time I feel like a total retard.
Welcome to korea!
We finally load up the plane and I start my slow process to Korea. The service was horrible on this flight, I asked for a blanket three times and it finally got to me 2 hours into the flight. By that time, I was already into the late stages of hypothermia because for some reason it was cold as hell on the plane. Then when they finally gave me the blanket the flight attendant asked me “are you happy now?” I wanted to stab her in the neck with a dull pickle fork. (*Side note : why did Delta buy Northwest? I thought Northwest was the bigger better airline. My flight to L.A. with Delta sucked and if I can avoid it, I will not be using them for travel again anytime in the near future). I think I was also in a foul mood because I was not ready for this trip, you know, thinking that I was supposed to have been leaving the following day and all. To make my trip even more enjoyable there was a man and women on the plane that were not able to control their children whatsoever. I pretty much take it into account that no matter when I fly there is going to be a screaming child on the flight. I have resigned myself to this fact. However, usually the screaming offender is shushed and not encouraged to scream at the top of their bloody lungs for hours on end. For one thing, they had a boy of about seven whom I am convinced had TB as he coughed for the whole flight. I felt bad for the little guy but I wanted to pour hot oil on the fathers head as he sat there and did not try and cover his child’s mouth for the whole coughing fit duration. Then there was the 4-year-old girl who literally screamed at the top of her lungs for 15 minutes at a time with brief 5-minute oxygen breaks in between while the mother just sat there with a goofy smile on her face (there just never seems to be enough bullets). Finally we arrive in L.A. and of course we are an hour late which is cutting into my in between flights smoke break I was planning on taking. Once on the ground they tell me that not only do I have to go to the international terminal but also I have to go there “right now”. Back to running through the damn airport, out the front doors and a quarter mile to the international terminal, son of a…!
Let me just say that the folks at Korean air were very helpful and courteous and I really enjoyed flying with them so basically the exact opposite of Delta. What I did not enjoy was that they told me that they were going to be loading the plane an hour early and that I really needed to start heading towards the gate because the line to get through security was taking about an hour to get through.( *Side note #2, it really annoys me that when you are late for your flight through no fault of your own they do not have a “I am late for my flight through no fault of my own” fast lane to get through security.) And Guess what, no &*%$##$&* smoke break and no using the military ID to get through the fast lane here. By this time I am getting a little cranky because it is midnight my time and I had gotten up early that morning and done a bunch of running around town, why, because I thought I was leaving on Friday, idiot.
I finally got to the gate and quickly realized that I was going to be one of three westerners on a flight of 300. The flight was not bad, I did manage to get some sleep, and I had Korean airline food, which was entertaining. It was a long flight, thirteen hours, but I do have to say having just done that same flight more or less coming back from Iraq that this one was much more enjoyable as a civilian. I arrived in Korea at five a.m. Saturday morning; this too is a huge mistake on my part because I had told Jody that I would be arriving Friday morning at five a.m. I told her that because I am a moron and forgot to add the day to account for flying halfway around the damn world. Now the fun really begins because A: at this time I actually think that it is Friday morning and B: when I left the house I only had time to write down the most basic information that Jody had given me in regards to where we were going to be staying in Seoul. I should probably explain that the airport is actually in a city called Incheon which is an island and about 1 hour away from Seoul. They have a bus line that you can take but after 18 hours of flying and airport time I was not in the mood for a bus ride so I had already decided on the flight over that I would pony up the hundred dollars for the cab ride. As soon as I cleared customs I got the piece of paper on which I had scribbled as much information onto as possible and thought that I was good to go, nope wrong answer do not pass Go do not collect two hundred dollars. One bit of info that Jody had given me was her phone number , good deal right, not if your damn $%^**&*(%&$&$%##!!!!!!!! Expensive ass super cool touch screen internet wireless thing a ma jigger phone doesn’t work in Korea. So cant call Jody, no big deal right, we still have the name of the guest house we are staying at right, wrong wrong wrong wrong. I had the name of the guesthouse but not which guest house because it is a G****** chain, aaarrrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I mention that while I am realizing all of this I have 3 chicken hawk taxi pimps trying to get me into their taxicabs. It was a little much after all my traveling but one good thing about them was that some of them spoke a little bit of English. So besides not being able to call Jody and not having the true address of where I am going I still have one trick up my sleeve, my computer. So I tell the guy that speaks the most English that I need to find someplace with internet and he directs me to a free internet café. Now we are good to go right, NO we are not good to go, laptop battery is dead. Holy mother of all that is unfair in the universe…………! Long story even longer I go to the little store in the airport and buy a plug adapter for the laptop, plug it in and the taxi guy uses his phone camera to take a picture of the info off my laptop screen. So finally things are going my way, get in the cab, smoke damn near a pack on the way to Seoul and arrive at the guesthouse. It is during this ride that I am informed that no it is not Friday morning but instead it is Saturday morning and Jody has been waiting all night for me to arrive. The last thing the taxi driver says to me is “ you are a bad traveler” to which I have no reply because by this time I feel like a total retard.
Welcome to korea!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Mosul
Sitting on a concrete stairway looking out at night at the twinkling lights of Mosul really makes you think. The stairs I am sitting on used to belong to the Iraqi Army and the barracks that I sleep in were also used by them. All the buildings in my area are peppered with shrapnel holes. Some of the metal pole roof supports have holes blown through them. One of the barracks we first stayed in had a very obvious roof patch done recently most likely to repair bomb damage. As a matter of fact almost everything in this country is scarred by signs of war. Whether it is the shrapnel marks in these buildings or the water filled bomb craters sprinkled throughout the area. It is just strange sometimes to think that we occupy all these areas in Iraq. Most of the US bases here are old Iraqi Army bases and airfields. I guess the surreal feeling for me is being so close to it. Here is this large city that I can see from my temporary barracks where people still launch mortars at us. And to know that there are people in that city that would kill me without hesitation is just a strange feeling.
Of course now and days the chances of being killed here are pretty slim as we are not allowed to travel into any of the cities anymore. In a way that is a good thing for the soldiers that are stationed here. But it also creates a certain type of hell. Imagine going to a foreign country and not being allowed to leave your hotel, ever. That would really kind of suck. Personally I am grateful that I was able to go on as many missions as I did. Sure I was nervous and sometimes freaked out but on the other hand I was also able to have many experiences that most others will not. Drinking Chai tea with the local sheik and all the village elders or handing out Ann Arbor skate park shirts to the local kids, heck I even got to ride a donkey with all my gear on. I camped out on top of a mountain and manned a checkpoint in the middle of the desert. I have seen almost all of northern Iraq perched atop a huge steel behemoth. I’ve thrown candy to kids and helped villages get new water wells and electricity. You can’t pay for those types of experiences. A lot of soldiers currently serving over here in Iraq will never leave the base they are assigned to, imagine a whole year stuck on a FOB just waiting for time to pass by. I have only been here for about 11 days and I am already going stir crazy. I would absolutely lose my mind if I had to stay on a FOB for a whole year. And this is not to say “hey lets go out and kill people” although have no doubt there some still in this country that would deserve it. I guess what I am saying is that we have been here too long, if you have 140,000 troops in a country just sitting around on base doing nothing that might be a sign that it is time to go. I mean seriously, and they wonder why the suicide rate is so high these days.
I also reflect on the effect time has on opinions. When I first got here I felt that we were actually helping people and in some ways we have. But on the other hand I think we should have just removed Saddam and been done with it. Unfortunately my idealistic views have disappeared and I feel that whether we are here for 10 more days or 10 more years the result is going to be the same. I am not under the impression that Democracy is going over real well here. I am of the opinion that no matter what we do these folks are going to have a civil war. Who knows maybe it will work out but after a year here and seeing how these people live I just can’t see it. Not to be a negative Nelly, I do hope it all works out in the end.
I still feel that my coming here was a good thing. It certainly has changed my perspective on many things both here and at home.
Of course now and days the chances of being killed here are pretty slim as we are not allowed to travel into any of the cities anymore. In a way that is a good thing for the soldiers that are stationed here. But it also creates a certain type of hell. Imagine going to a foreign country and not being allowed to leave your hotel, ever. That would really kind of suck. Personally I am grateful that I was able to go on as many missions as I did. Sure I was nervous and sometimes freaked out but on the other hand I was also able to have many experiences that most others will not. Drinking Chai tea with the local sheik and all the village elders or handing out Ann Arbor skate park shirts to the local kids, heck I even got to ride a donkey with all my gear on. I camped out on top of a mountain and manned a checkpoint in the middle of the desert. I have seen almost all of northern Iraq perched atop a huge steel behemoth. I’ve thrown candy to kids and helped villages get new water wells and electricity. You can’t pay for those types of experiences. A lot of soldiers currently serving over here in Iraq will never leave the base they are assigned to, imagine a whole year stuck on a FOB just waiting for time to pass by. I have only been here for about 11 days and I am already going stir crazy. I would absolutely lose my mind if I had to stay on a FOB for a whole year. And this is not to say “hey lets go out and kill people” although have no doubt there some still in this country that would deserve it. I guess what I am saying is that we have been here too long, if you have 140,000 troops in a country just sitting around on base doing nothing that might be a sign that it is time to go. I mean seriously, and they wonder why the suicide rate is so high these days.
I also reflect on the effect time has on opinions. When I first got here I felt that we were actually helping people and in some ways we have. But on the other hand I think we should have just removed Saddam and been done with it. Unfortunately my idealistic views have disappeared and I feel that whether we are here for 10 more days or 10 more years the result is going to be the same. I am not under the impression that Democracy is going over real well here. I am of the opinion that no matter what we do these folks are going to have a civil war. Who knows maybe it will work out but after a year here and seeing how these people live I just can’t see it. Not to be a negative Nelly, I do hope it all works out in the end.
I still feel that my coming here was a good thing. It certainly has changed my perspective on many things both here and at home.
Army organazation
I thought I would do a quick explanation on how the Army is organized as I know most folks are confused by it. Currently I am serving in a company. Usually a company consists of 4-5 platoons. So to lay it all out here is how it goes:
A squad = 6-8 Soldiers
A Platoon = 4-5 Squads
A company = 4-5 Platoons
A battalion = 4-6 Companies
A brigade = 3 Battalions
A Division = 3-5 Brigades
Squad members consist of Privates and specialists E-1 through E-4
A squad is lead by an E-5 or E-6 Sergeant
A platoon is lead by an E-7 Sergeant and a 1st or 2nd Lieutenant
A company is lead by a Captain and an E-9 First Sergeant
A battalion is lead by a Lieutenant Colonel and an E-9 Command Sergeant Major
A division is lead by a General & many other officers
Usually when you are in a company you are part of a battalion which has 4-6 companies. The companies are listed by the phonetic alphabet. So in a battalion with 5 companies you would have a Headquarters company then Alpha company, Bravo Company, Charlie Company, Delta Company. To give an example in Michigan we have an infantry battalion called the 125th Infantry Battalion. There are 125th units spread throughout Michigan. There is 125th Headquarters company in Flint, Alpha company out of Detroit, Bravo company in Saginaw, Charlie company in Wyoming and Delta company in Big Rapids. A brigade that consists of 3 Battalions is recognized by numbers. I will use the first unit I served in as an example. On my first enlistment I served with 1/505th Parachute Infantry Battalion. So basically because there are three battalions in a Brigade we had the 1/505th, 2/505th and the 3/505th. So when someone says they are in 2nd squad, 3rd platoon, Charlie company of the 1/505th, 82nd Airborne Division you know what unit they are in.
The company I serve in is considered a special unit because of the type of work we do and because we are pretty self sufficient because we have our own Headquarters and communications platoons integral to our company. Usually those sections are a separate company. The plus side to this is that we are fairly self sufficient, the downside is that we do not have much star power as the highest ranked officer we have is a captain. Usually this is not a problem when we are at home in Michigan. The problem becomes apparent when we deploy as we get assigned to work for someone in theatre. It is usually not a big deal unless you get assigned to work for someone that is horrible to work for which was the situation we found ourselves in here in Iraq when our parent unit changed.
When you come overseas to a war zone you get assigned to a bigger organization. When we first got here we worked for the 6/9 Cavalry. They were pretty cool to work for; they assigned us our battle space (the area in Iraq that we would be responsible to patrol) told us what they wanted us to accomplish then left us alone to do our job. They left for home in December and were replaced by the 3-73 Cavalry, I cannot put into words at this time how much this parent unit has sucked. Stories of these $@###!!!&&^%%% will surely be sprinkled into future blog entry’s.
A squad = 6-8 Soldiers
A Platoon = 4-5 Squads
A company = 4-5 Platoons
A battalion = 4-6 Companies
A brigade = 3 Battalions
A Division = 3-5 Brigades
Squad members consist of Privates and specialists E-1 through E-4
A squad is lead by an E-5 or E-6 Sergeant
A platoon is lead by an E-7 Sergeant and a 1st or 2nd Lieutenant
A company is lead by a Captain and an E-9 First Sergeant
A battalion is lead by a Lieutenant Colonel and an E-9 Command Sergeant Major
A division is lead by a General & many other officers
Usually when you are in a company you are part of a battalion which has 4-6 companies. The companies are listed by the phonetic alphabet. So in a battalion with 5 companies you would have a Headquarters company then Alpha company, Bravo Company, Charlie Company, Delta Company. To give an example in Michigan we have an infantry battalion called the 125th Infantry Battalion. There are 125th units spread throughout Michigan. There is 125th Headquarters company in Flint, Alpha company out of Detroit, Bravo company in Saginaw, Charlie company in Wyoming and Delta company in Big Rapids. A brigade that consists of 3 Battalions is recognized by numbers. I will use the first unit I served in as an example. On my first enlistment I served with 1/505th Parachute Infantry Battalion. So basically because there are three battalions in a Brigade we had the 1/505th, 2/505th and the 3/505th. So when someone says they are in 2nd squad, 3rd platoon, Charlie company of the 1/505th, 82nd Airborne Division you know what unit they are in.
The company I serve in is considered a special unit because of the type of work we do and because we are pretty self sufficient because we have our own Headquarters and communications platoons integral to our company. Usually those sections are a separate company. The plus side to this is that we are fairly self sufficient, the downside is that we do not have much star power as the highest ranked officer we have is a captain. Usually this is not a problem when we are at home in Michigan. The problem becomes apparent when we deploy as we get assigned to work for someone in theatre. It is usually not a big deal unless you get assigned to work for someone that is horrible to work for which was the situation we found ourselves in here in Iraq when our parent unit changed.
When you come overseas to a war zone you get assigned to a bigger organization. When we first got here we worked for the 6/9 Cavalry. They were pretty cool to work for; they assigned us our battle space (the area in Iraq that we would be responsible to patrol) told us what they wanted us to accomplish then left us alone to do our job. They left for home in December and were replaced by the 3-73 Cavalry, I cannot put into words at this time how much this parent unit has sucked. Stories of these $@###!!!&&^%%% will surely be sprinkled into future blog entry’s.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Staying in shape
I used to think I was in shape, I mean round is a shape isn’t it? It is just now towards the end of this deployment that I realize how out of shape I really used to be. The other day I looked at a picture of myself when we were at NTC (National Training Center) in California last March and I could not believe how big I looked. By big I mean round.
I used to get out of breath just wearing my body armor, and by that I mean just wearing it, not even moving. And carrying my .50 cal across the parking lot to my truck would seriously wear me out (it does after all weigh about 80 pounds with both pieces, but still). Now and days I can damn near run with the thing while wearing my body armor and carrying all my other gear as well and I still feel great. It is also nice to be able to go running and actually enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong I am still horrible at running but I used to run like a crippled water buffalo with asthma. Cutting down on smoking has helped a lot with all this. I had actually quit for about 3 weeks but then I fell off the wagon ( I plan on quitting again soon, no really after this pack) hmmmm (or maybe the next one). Smoking and keeping my weight down have been the biggest battles so far. It is actually hard to lose weight here. This is in part because they serve you way too much food at the chow hall and I can’t seem to break the habit of eating every damn thing that they put on my plate. I also go to the gym as often as possible and actually find myself getting annoyed when I can’t go. If you had told me that I would feel this way 2 years ago I would have flicked my cigarette butt at you, poured my drink over your head and then gone back to eating my pizza.
I think my greatest fear right now is that I will get home and fall into all my old patterns and get big again. I plan on getting a membership at the Y when I get home but it will defiantly be a test of willpower to go everyday versus sitting on the couch watching TV and eating pizza. There will of course be some of that as I just plain need a break for a bit. But I think that with my return coinciding with spring / summer it should be pretty easy to get out and about and not spend too much time on the couch. And of course I expect Trevor to hound me about skateboarding which does not seem doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after this experience.
Well that’s all I have to say about that. I would like to urge all my friends that smoke to cut back, even a little, and try and do some cardio every once in a while. It really sucks for the first 4 weeks but man after that it really starts to feel great. I mostly wrote this Blog for myself though so don’t feel as if I am preaching to anyone please. When I find myself sitting on the couch watching too much TV and eating too much pizza I can read this to remind myself to get my fat ass off the couch and go for a run.
I used to get out of breath just wearing my body armor, and by that I mean just wearing it, not even moving. And carrying my .50 cal across the parking lot to my truck would seriously wear me out (it does after all weigh about 80 pounds with both pieces, but still). Now and days I can damn near run with the thing while wearing my body armor and carrying all my other gear as well and I still feel great. It is also nice to be able to go running and actually enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong I am still horrible at running but I used to run like a crippled water buffalo with asthma. Cutting down on smoking has helped a lot with all this. I had actually quit for about 3 weeks but then I fell off the wagon ( I plan on quitting again soon, no really after this pack) hmmmm (or maybe the next one). Smoking and keeping my weight down have been the biggest battles so far. It is actually hard to lose weight here. This is in part because they serve you way too much food at the chow hall and I can’t seem to break the habit of eating every damn thing that they put on my plate. I also go to the gym as often as possible and actually find myself getting annoyed when I can’t go. If you had told me that I would feel this way 2 years ago I would have flicked my cigarette butt at you, poured my drink over your head and then gone back to eating my pizza.
I think my greatest fear right now is that I will get home and fall into all my old patterns and get big again. I plan on getting a membership at the Y when I get home but it will defiantly be a test of willpower to go everyday versus sitting on the couch watching TV and eating pizza. There will of course be some of that as I just plain need a break for a bit. But I think that with my return coinciding with spring / summer it should be pretty easy to get out and about and not spend too much time on the couch. And of course I expect Trevor to hound me about skateboarding which does not seem doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after this experience.
Well that’s all I have to say about that. I would like to urge all my friends that smoke to cut back, even a little, and try and do some cardio every once in a while. It really sucks for the first 4 weeks but man after that it really starts to feel great. I mostly wrote this Blog for myself though so don’t feel as if I am preaching to anyone please. When I find myself sitting on the couch watching too much TV and eating too much pizza I can read this to remind myself to get my fat ass off the couch and go for a run.
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