When I listen to the TV or radio news commentary from back home I
hear political commentators accusing each other of Socialism. Many of
those commentators have no idea what Socialism really looks like.
But we do over here. It looks like us.
In a Socialist system, all the money is collective--there is one budget.
Just like us. There is an Army budget. If pay goes up, procurement
goes down. The opposite is also true. Reduction in Force (the Army's
version of layoffs) means more money for equipment.
Medical care is free, or the same price for all, but no one gets to
choose their doctor. Just like the Army.
In a Socialist system everyone gets the same pay if they have the same
rank, regardless of their productivity. Unions work this way. In the
Army an E4 with four years service who is a first-rate Blackhawk crew
chief, fit, and fully qualified makes exactly the same pay as an E4 with
four years service who is truck driver flunked the PT Test and still
can't fill out a maintenance inspection form.
In a really ideal Socialist society, no one owns private property. Your
housing depends on your rank. If you lose your rank you lose your
house. Since there are no privately owned vehicles, the only vehicles
are state-supplied and go with a position. So a unit commander gets an
SUV, a platoon sergeant takes the bus.
In a really radical Socialist system, everyone would dress alike and eat
together. If they had to carry weapons, they would only carry the
weapon designated for their job.
So here we are with assigned housing, assigned vehicles (or not), and
assigned weapons. We eat in the same three DFACs. We all dress alike,
both men and women. The commercials on our radio and TV do not sell
products, they attempt to modify our behavior for the betterment of the
state. We get the same pay for very unequal work. We all have the same
doctor.
In a radical socialist system we would not have freedom of worship as we
have here. In an interesting socialist aspect of life here, all
Churches use the same building. So the Catholics, Lutherans,
traditional and contemporary Protestant services, Gospel service, and
any other group that wants a worship service holds it in the same room.
This aspect of our socialist world emphasizes that all Christians really
worship the same Lord. I like that.
In America, in the active Army, even though we still dress alike at
work, we can wear our own choice of clothes after work. A Colonel can
choose to drive an 8-year-old Chevy and a Specialist with a
re-enlistment bonus can drive a new BMW M3 or a Suzuki GSXR. But not
here in Iraq.
We are defending freedom but for now, we are what Socialism looks like.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Evangelical Icon Fading
At Chapel today the Chaplain asked the audience "how many people know the name Joni Eareckson?" Three of us raised our hands. I suppose there were 80 or 90 soldiers and only three raised their hands. If you don't know the name here are the first two lines of her Wikipedia entry:
A diving accident in 1967 left Tada hospitalized and paralyzed (as a quadriplegic; unable to use her hands or legs.)[1] After two years of rehabilitation and in a wheelchair, Tada began working to help others in similar situations.
Tada wrote of her experiences in her international best-selling autobiography, Joni, which has been distributed in many languages, and which was made into a feature film of the same name.
when I became a believer in 1973, it seemed Joni was everywhere in Christian media and even secular media.
Two years ago, Joni returned to my life in a way. She and I had very similar injuries. She smashed the fifth vertebra in her neck, I smashed the seventh. In 1967 MEDEVAC was rare. More importantly, medical science was only beginning to bring the discovery of DNA into practical treatments. In 1967 Joni's first responders may not have put her on a backboard. She was not MEDEVACed from the scene. And her hospital did not have a neurosurgeon who just returned from Baghdad and was very skilled in replacing smashed vertebra with bones from cadavers. All of which I had.
Joni has touched millions of lives with her ministry as a paraplegic. I may have had a ministry as a paraplegic, but I consider it a very awesome blessing that I do not have her ministry.
The advances in medical science since Watson and Crick discovered the structure of DNA (They knew from Mendel and Darwin what they were looking for) are something I am VERY thankful for on this Thanksgiving Holiday Weekend. Younger Christians here often talk excitedly about how Christian rock stars cross over and get played on secular stations. The new icons of Evangelical Culture play metal and alternative and get picked up on secular stations. They make movies, or at least animated vegetables. More sadly, they put saddles on dinosaurs in an indoor theme park labeled a science museum.
It's strange to think of Joni as passing to the margins of Christian culture.
A diving accident in 1967 left Tada hospitalized and paralyzed (as a quadriplegic; unable to use her hands or legs.)[1] After two years of rehabilitation and in a wheelchair, Tada began working to help others in similar situations.
Tada wrote of her experiences in her international best-selling autobiography, Joni, which has been distributed in many languages, and which was made into a feature film of the same name.
when I became a believer in 1973, it seemed Joni was everywhere in Christian media and even secular media.
Two years ago, Joni returned to my life in a way. She and I had very similar injuries. She smashed the fifth vertebra in her neck, I smashed the seventh. In 1967 MEDEVAC was rare. More importantly, medical science was only beginning to bring the discovery of DNA into practical treatments. In 1967 Joni's first responders may not have put her on a backboard. She was not MEDEVACed from the scene. And her hospital did not have a neurosurgeon who just returned from Baghdad and was very skilled in replacing smashed vertebra with bones from cadavers. All of which I had.
Joni has touched millions of lives with her ministry as a paraplegic. I may have had a ministry as a paraplegic, but I consider it a very awesome blessing that I do not have her ministry.
The advances in medical science since Watson and Crick discovered the structure of DNA (They knew from Mendel and Darwin what they were looking for) are something I am VERY thankful for on this Thanksgiving Holiday Weekend. Younger Christians here often talk excitedly about how Christian rock stars cross over and get played on secular stations. The new icons of Evangelical Culture play metal and alternative and get picked up on secular stations. They make movies, or at least animated vegetables. More sadly, they put saddles on dinosaurs in an indoor theme park labeled a science museum.
It's strange to think of Joni as passing to the margins of Christian culture.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Life Here Seems to be on Hold, but Life Goes on Back Home
Last month the last of the six Gussman brothers died. My father, George, was the fourth of six sons born to two Jewish emigres from Odessa, Russia. My grandfather died in 1932 just over 20 years before I was born. I have very few memories of seeing my father's three older brothers: Abraham, Emmanuel and Ralph, but I occasionally saw the youngest of the six, my uncle Harold, and most often saw the fifth brother, Lewis. In our family, everyone referred to him as Uncle Louie. He was the most successful of the five brothers, following Grandpa into the produce business and building a highly regarded business of his own.
Louie always drove Cadillacs and often drove too fast. My father liked to tell the story of Louie being one of the first to get a new Cadillac after the auto plants started making cars again after World War 2. Louie wrecked the car not too long after. He wasn't badly injured, but no one seemed to car about him anyway. People at the scene and after said what a shame it was to wreck a new Cadillac.
Uncle Louie had one son, Bob, who I always thought of as an uncle rather than a cousin because he is about 15 years older than I am. I saw Bob more than any of my cousins. He had a very dry sense of humor, in contrast to the loud exclamations that characterized most of the people at Gussman gatherings. Bob, like his Dad, is still working long past the age others retire, and if he lives to 100 like his Dad, he will also probably work till he is 98.
The obituary below is from Produce News--a trade paper. It says a lot about Uncle Louie as a businessman and as a person that they would run his obituary.
Mutual Produce founder dies at 100
by Brian Gaylord
10/21/2009
BOSTON -- Lewis Gussman, founder of Mutual Produce Corp., here, died Sept. 30 at Newton-Wellesley Hospital in Newton, MA, following a brief illness. He was 100.
Mr. Gussman launched the wholesale company, formerly named Mutual Produce Inc., at the New England Produce Center in 1955. He sold the company in 2000 and continued to work for Mutual Produce Corp. until he was 98.
"He paid his bills on time, he ran a good business," Richard Travers Jr., co- owner of Mutual Produce Corp., said of Mr. Gussman. He added that some shippers have been doing business with Mutual Produce for 30 years.
Mr. Travers said that Mr. Gussman loved the produce business because "no two days are the same." He said that Mr. Gussman would "jump on the phone" to tell callers that he'd rubbed elbows with their grandparents.
Sadly for Mr. Gussman, he outlived his contemporaries in the produce industry. "He was the oldest guy around here for 15 years," Mr. Travers said. "He was an icon of the produce industry."
Mr. Travers recalled that Mr. Gussman "loved playing with fruit, creating displays that were outstanding."
Paul DiMare, president of Boston-based DiMare Inc., said that Mr. Gussman was a mentor of sorts to him. He described Mr. Gussman as "honorable" and "one of the best produce people."
"He was a double A house in [the] Blue Book," which meant that he paid his bills every week, Mr. DiMare said. "There aren't a whole lot of companies that do that."
Mr. DiMare said that "everybody respected [Mr. Gussman] in Boston" and that he had a "great list of top-notch shippers."
Mr. Gussman's five siblings -- all brothers -- also worked in fresh produce, though not at Mutual Produce. Mr. Gussman's father also worked in fresh produce.
Mr. Gussman is survived by a son, Bob Gussman, and his wife, Trudi, of Winchester, NH, and several grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Lewis Gussman was preceded in death by his wife, Ethel Rosenberg, in 2004.
Bob Gussman said that the family is considering holding a memorial gathering in the spring.
Louie always drove Cadillacs and often drove too fast. My father liked to tell the story of Louie being one of the first to get a new Cadillac after the auto plants started making cars again after World War 2. Louie wrecked the car not too long after. He wasn't badly injured, but no one seemed to car about him anyway. People at the scene and after said what a shame it was to wreck a new Cadillac.
Uncle Louie had one son, Bob, who I always thought of as an uncle rather than a cousin because he is about 15 years older than I am. I saw Bob more than any of my cousins. He had a very dry sense of humor, in contrast to the loud exclamations that characterized most of the people at Gussman gatherings. Bob, like his Dad, is still working long past the age others retire, and if he lives to 100 like his Dad, he will also probably work till he is 98.
The obituary below is from Produce News--a trade paper. It says a lot about Uncle Louie as a businessman and as a person that they would run his obituary.
Mutual Produce founder dies at 100
by Brian Gaylord
10/21/2009
BOSTON -- Lewis Gussman, founder of Mutual Produce Corp., here, died Sept. 30 at Newton-Wellesley Hospital in Newton, MA, following a brief illness. He was 100.
Mr. Gussman launched the wholesale company, formerly named Mutual Produce Inc., at the New England Produce Center in 1955. He sold the company in 2000 and continued to work for Mutual Produce Corp. until he was 98.
"He paid his bills on time, he ran a good business," Richard Travers Jr., co- owner of Mutual Produce Corp., said of Mr. Gussman. He added that some shippers have been doing business with Mutual Produce for 30 years.
Mr. Travers said that Mr. Gussman loved the produce business because "no two days are the same." He said that Mr. Gussman would "jump on the phone" to tell callers that he'd rubbed elbows with their grandparents.
Sadly for Mr. Gussman, he outlived his contemporaries in the produce industry. "He was the oldest guy around here for 15 years," Mr. Travers said. "He was an icon of the produce industry."
Mr. Travers recalled that Mr. Gussman "loved playing with fruit, creating displays that were outstanding."
Paul DiMare, president of Boston-based DiMare Inc., said that Mr. Gussman was a mentor of sorts to him. He described Mr. Gussman as "honorable" and "one of the best produce people."
"He was a double A house in [the] Blue Book," which meant that he paid his bills every week, Mr. DiMare said. "There aren't a whole lot of companies that do that."
Mr. DiMare said that "everybody respected [Mr. Gussman] in Boston" and that he had a "great list of top-notch shippers."
Mr. Gussman's five siblings -- all brothers -- also worked in fresh produce, though not at Mutual Produce. Mr. Gussman's father also worked in fresh produce.
Mr. Gussman is survived by a son, Bob Gussman, and his wife, Trudi, of Winchester, NH, and several grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Lewis Gussman was preceded in death by his wife, Ethel Rosenberg, in 2004.
Bob Gussman said that the family is considering holding a memorial gathering in the spring.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Ups and Downs
Last week I mentioned that I have been sending friend messages to my high school classmates on Facebook. After 38 years away from Stoneham, I am missing my childhood home in a way I never thought I would. I suppose getting homesick in Iraq is about as surprising as getting thirsty in a desert.
Today I got a brief message from one of my high school classmates thanking me for getting in touch and asking me to Google his son. His son was killed in action in Baghdad in 2006. I read the many messages from his friends and family on the memorial web site. Seems clear from the messages he was a good soldier and a good man also. He was 22.
Before I went through the pre-deployment processing and training for this trip, I made three visits to Brooke Army Medical Center, which everyone refers to as BAMC--pronounced BAM-See. BAMC is the treatment and rehabilitation center for those who lose limbs. I was in San Antonio for four days, had some free time and thought I ought to go and see what this war really costs.
I talked to parents at BAMC. But they are different than the parents of the dead. Even when their child is maimed, he or she is alive. The parents of the dead have only memories. I have other friends who have lost children. Two men in our unit lost children during this deployment. I went to one of the funerals when I was home on leave.
Part of what we are here for is to comfort each other when we face grief. On this day after Thanksgiving, I am very thankful for four healthy children. And I will put the grieving parents I know at the top of my prayer list.
Today I got a brief message from one of my high school classmates thanking me for getting in touch and asking me to Google his son. His son was killed in action in Baghdad in 2006. I read the many messages from his friends and family on the memorial web site. Seems clear from the messages he was a good soldier and a good man also. He was 22.
Before I went through the pre-deployment processing and training for this trip, I made three visits to Brooke Army Medical Center, which everyone refers to as BAMC--pronounced BAM-See. BAMC is the treatment and rehabilitation center for those who lose limbs. I was in San Antonio for four days, had some free time and thought I ought to go and see what this war really costs.
I talked to parents at BAMC. But they are different than the parents of the dead. Even when their child is maimed, he or she is alive. The parents of the dead have only memories. I have other friends who have lost children. Two men in our unit lost children during this deployment. I went to one of the funerals when I was home on leave.
Part of what we are here for is to comfort each other when we face grief. On this day after Thanksgiving, I am very thankful for four healthy children. And I will put the grieving parents I know at the top of my prayer list.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Virgil in the Chow Hall
Today I ate lunch with one of the cooks who attends the "Dead Poets Society" meetings here on Tallil. We were talking about how things have changed for us--he is in the group going home before Christmas. He is sad about going home early as are almost everyone I know who is leaving. They all wanted to be here into the next tax year so they would earn more tax-free money and begin next year with combat pay. I, on the other hand, would leave tomorrow with no regret about my tax status.
This led us to the trials of faithful Aeneas as recorded in Virgil's epic. All of us wish we could identify with Aeneas, his troops, and even his enemies. They face danger with no regret. When they die they are brave to the final moment. We don't get a lot of chances to face real danger and we hope we will do it well. But the gods in the epic--we know them. The generals and political leaders above them are the gods in our story. They are powerful, able to move thousands of soldiers at their will, but like the Roman gods, they all have a specific territory they are in charge of. When they step outside that territory another god will fight them, or appeal to Jupiter to settle the dispute.
So a big group of us train together, arrive together, serve together, then at the stroke of a pen, most of the group goes home a month early--including the Christmas holidays--and the rest of us stay here as planned. It all makes sense to someone in Baghdad with a big map, but to us it all looks arbitrary and territorial, like the gods in Virgil's Aeneid.
Before some of the extreme beliefs of the 18th century became the mainstream of the late 20th and early 21st century, most well-educated people read "The Consolation of Philosophy" by Boethius. This book, written in the 6th century AD, may be the best ever written on how Destiny or Providence can guide an individual life in a world dominated by chaos. Our world is contingent, chaotic we live by faith daily even when we don't want to, and yet some people follow a destiny laid out by God.
The Greeks and Romans imagined the world as dominated by a chaos, with the gods making the chaos worse in many cases, yet the greatest men were guided by the fates--predestined to greatness. Boethius shows how this works in a Christian believer's life. The main difference is that only those of high birth and merit had a destiny in the Greco-Roman world. In the Christian world, it is quite the reverse. Those who most fully focus on doing the Lord's will, and usually being notable failures in this life, find God's will most fully. Mother Teresa's intent to love and serve lepers in Calcutta eventually led to fame for her, but she began as lowly as possible and was exalted for it. Reading Virgil and Boethius reminds me that a program with great ambition for control and power in this life, even with a designer Christian label, is aiming at the Roman heaven of senators and generals. The Christian Heaven of the Man of Sorrows is in another direction.
This led us to the trials of faithful Aeneas as recorded in Virgil's epic. All of us wish we could identify with Aeneas, his troops, and even his enemies. They face danger with no regret. When they die they are brave to the final moment. We don't get a lot of chances to face real danger and we hope we will do it well. But the gods in the epic--we know them. The generals and political leaders above them are the gods in our story. They are powerful, able to move thousands of soldiers at their will, but like the Roman gods, they all have a specific territory they are in charge of. When they step outside that territory another god will fight them, or appeal to Jupiter to settle the dispute.
So a big group of us train together, arrive together, serve together, then at the stroke of a pen, most of the group goes home a month early--including the Christmas holidays--and the rest of us stay here as planned. It all makes sense to someone in Baghdad with a big map, but to us it all looks arbitrary and territorial, like the gods in Virgil's Aeneid.
Before some of the extreme beliefs of the 18th century became the mainstream of the late 20th and early 21st century, most well-educated people read "The Consolation of Philosophy" by Boethius. This book, written in the 6th century AD, may be the best ever written on how Destiny or Providence can guide an individual life in a world dominated by chaos. Our world is contingent, chaotic we live by faith daily even when we don't want to, and yet some people follow a destiny laid out by God.
The Greeks and Romans imagined the world as dominated by a chaos, with the gods making the chaos worse in many cases, yet the greatest men were guided by the fates--predestined to greatness. Boethius shows how this works in a Christian believer's life. The main difference is that only those of high birth and merit had a destiny in the Greco-Roman world. In the Christian world, it is quite the reverse. Those who most fully focus on doing the Lord's will, and usually being notable failures in this life, find God's will most fully. Mother Teresa's intent to love and serve lepers in Calcutta eventually led to fame for her, but she began as lowly as possible and was exalted for it. Reading Virgil and Boethius reminds me that a program with great ambition for control and power in this life, even with a designer Christian label, is aiming at the Roman heaven of senators and generals. The Christian Heaven of the Man of Sorrows is in another direction.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Amish Have It Backwards
No, I don't mean the buggies. The Amish are reputed to avoid getting pictures taken of them because they fear losing their soul. I think they are talking about the wrong end of the camera. Thirty years ago in Germany, I got paid to take news photos for the Army just like now. I had a lot of success. One of my pictures landed on the cover of Stars and Stripes. Hundreds got published.
Then I quit taking pictures. In fact, I don't actually own a camera. I have a camera in my cell phone and that has been enough. Everyone around me seems to have cameras so I let them take pictures. Over the last week I started to remember one of the reasons why I stopped. The camera hurts the soul of the photographer. It doesn't steal your soul--that might be better. But the more pictures I take and the better they are, the more I am "the guy with the camera."
Now when people have events they want me to take the picture. And they want me to take the picture they way they want it--which means the picture is going to suck anyway. It will suck in my $3000 camera (Army Property) instead of sucking in their $100 camera.
Why will it suck. Because inevitably, they envision a photo beginning with the BACKGROUND. Their goal is a tourist photo which includes themselves and all of the Ziggurat of Ur, or a square mile of desert, or an entire Chinook Helicopter. Which means the people disappear. YUCK.
I take photos: eyes first, then face, then enough of the rest of the body to convey attitude. I want to see someone through their work.
So the real problem is that I am becoming more judgmental than I already am. Cameras are harsh. People who look good normally can look bad in pictures. They look worse in my kind of pictures because I get close. I start to look at people through the lens and know before the first shot they will look bad. I know most people around me are happy with the photos they take. I would not have cared before I was shooting pictures four days a week. Now I am looking at them like they drink $3 boxed wine.
So if I am not careful, it will be me who loses his soul, from the back side of the camera.
Then I quit taking pictures. In fact, I don't actually own a camera. I have a camera in my cell phone and that has been enough. Everyone around me seems to have cameras so I let them take pictures. Over the last week I started to remember one of the reasons why I stopped. The camera hurts the soul of the photographer. It doesn't steal your soul--that might be better. But the more pictures I take and the better they are, the more I am "the guy with the camera."
Now when people have events they want me to take the picture. And they want me to take the picture they way they want it--which means the picture is going to suck anyway. It will suck in my $3000 camera (Army Property) instead of sucking in their $100 camera.
Why will it suck. Because inevitably, they envision a photo beginning with the BACKGROUND. Their goal is a tourist photo which includes themselves and all of the Ziggurat of Ur, or a square mile of desert, or an entire Chinook Helicopter. Which means the people disappear. YUCK.
I take photos: eyes first, then face, then enough of the rest of the body to convey attitude. I want to see someone through their work.
So the real problem is that I am becoming more judgmental than I already am. Cameras are harsh. People who look good normally can look bad in pictures. They look worse in my kind of pictures because I get close. I start to look at people through the lens and know before the first shot they will look bad. I know most people around me are happy with the photos they take. I would not have cared before I was shooting pictures four days a week. Now I am looking at them like they drink $3 boxed wine.
So if I am not careful, it will be me who loses his soul, from the back side of the camera.
Flags at Half Staff
Many of the national guard soldiers are full time and work at Hood. They know people, civilians and military, who work at that facility and were frantic for a while wondering of someone they knew was a victim. No one was. It seems the victims soldiers getting ready to deploy. How horrible for their families to lose their soldier before he or she even gets on the plane.
Earlier this year when an American soldier was captured in Afghanistan, most soldiers turned and watched the news when there was something about that soldier, then turned back when that segment was over. It has been that way since the shooting. If there is a report from Hood, people watch, if not they turn back to their conversation.
The darkest comments are of the WTF variety "What the F#$k were they thinking when this scum bag was admiring suicide bombers on blogs and trying to get out of deploying."
I was talking to another friend before this tragedy about chance and Providence. CS Lewis, following Boethius (The Consolation of Philosophy), says we live in a created world in which chance and randomness rule the lives of every creature except those who are following God's will for their lives.
This may seem like abstract theology, but at times like this and 9/11 and other tragedies, if you believe the created universe is determined down to the movement of particles, then an event like this can only be God's will. A field-grade officer murdering his fellow soldiers is not God's will. The Lord gave us free will and at times like this I wish it were otherwise. But we are free to love, or not. So right now to this random act of violence we are all free to do the Lord's work in caring for the victims and their families.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Emotional Roller Coaster
This week has been the worst in the deployment for spikes of emotion. I had very good news, very bad news and most of it will have to wait until I get home before I can write about it. The "Shadow blog" Meredith and Daria advised me to keep got a thousand words longer last night describing in some detail how two young officers decided to screw with me on Monday, how I went to their bosses, and how the whole thing turned out. I went from very low to flying way too close to the sun--if you know the legend of Icarus.
Last week a good friend of mine lost his job because of a stupid remark he made to one of his soldiers and this week the whole issue came to a head. He is not the kind of guy who fights back when he is wrong, so he is just going to accept his punishment. Others who have done worse have skated by without a problem. He seems like an example of how good people get screwed, but in the past week while this drama unfolded, he has seen how many people respect him, stand behind him and support him. So he really is getting virtue's reward, love when you need it--more than you expect.
The day I knew I was a wreck was Wednesday. I was writing a farewell to Charlie MEDEVAC for the newsletter that comes out Monday. I have only known those guys for two months and only know a dozen of them personally, but that company is the most professional, together, and focused unit I have worked with directly since I have been in the Army. Anyway, I was writing the essay and started to cry. At that point I knew I was getting too little sleep, having too much excitement, and needed a rest.
I am going to send the newsletter to the people who I have email addresses for. If you want a copy, send me an email at ngussman@gmail.com and I will add you to the list.
Last week a good friend of mine lost his job because of a stupid remark he made to one of his soldiers and this week the whole issue came to a head. He is not the kind of guy who fights back when he is wrong, so he is just going to accept his punishment. Others who have done worse have skated by without a problem. He seems like an example of how good people get screwed, but in the past week while this drama unfolded, he has seen how many people respect him, stand behind him and support him. So he really is getting virtue's reward, love when you need it--more than you expect.
The day I knew I was a wreck was Wednesday. I was writing a farewell to Charlie MEDEVAC for the newsletter that comes out Monday. I have only known those guys for two months and only know a dozen of them personally, but that company is the most professional, together, and focused unit I have worked with directly since I have been in the Army. Anyway, I was writing the essay and started to cry. At that point I knew I was getting too little sleep, having too much excitement, and needed a rest.
I am going to send the newsletter to the people who I have email addresses for. If you want a copy, send me an email at ngussman@gmail.com and I will add you to the list.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Race is On!!!!! Task Force Diablo Biathlon on Thanksgiving Morning
It's Approved. It's on. We are ready to roll!!! The First EVER Task Force Diablo Biathlon begins at 0700 hours on Thursday, November 26. The Run/Bike event will begin with a 5k run followed by a 15k bike. We will have individual and team competition. We are hoping to have medals. We do have water bottles and a couple of helmets and several other prizes courtesy of Bike Line of Lancaster, Pa.
The course profile is the same as an ironing board--flat. I am hoping to have 100 teams or individuals. I am going to make the race flyer in the morning. Advertising should begin by Saturday. Three weeks today till the start.
When I went to the garrison sergeant major's office to get approval for the race, he said we first had to talk about a Veteran's Day ceremony on Wednesday the 11th. I am going to be the emcee. I contacted the guy who will (I hope) be the featured speaker--one of the chaplains who is a regular at the CS Lewis book group.
This Monday I am going to send the newsletter I do to everyone I sent it too a month ago. This seventh issue really is good. With the help of Sgt. Matt Jones at 28th Combat Aviation Brigade, the simple layout I use is starting to look better. And I got some really good shots that I am using full page so they would not look as dramatic on the blog.
Too many great things happened this week to even write them all down. One sad thing for me I realized this morning is the Charlie MEDEVAC Company is leaving. They have been the source of some of my best stories and are one of the best units it has ever been my pleasure to be associated with. They are going back to Alaska soon and another MEDEVAC will take their place. I re-wrote the Eight Minutes and Gone blog post from two months ago as a tribute/goodbye to them and re-cropped some pictures for the past page of the newsletter.
The course profile is the same as an ironing board--flat. I am hoping to have 100 teams or individuals. I am going to make the race flyer in the morning. Advertising should begin by Saturday. Three weeks today till the start.
When I went to the garrison sergeant major's office to get approval for the race, he said we first had to talk about a Veteran's Day ceremony on Wednesday the 11th. I am going to be the emcee. I contacted the guy who will (I hope) be the featured speaker--one of the chaplains who is a regular at the CS Lewis book group.
This Monday I am going to send the newsletter I do to everyone I sent it too a month ago. This seventh issue really is good. With the help of Sgt. Matt Jones at 28th Combat Aviation Brigade, the simple layout I use is starting to look better. And I got some really good shots that I am using full page so they would not look as dramatic on the blog.
Too many great things happened this week to even write them all down. One sad thing for me I realized this morning is the Charlie MEDEVAC Company is leaving. They have been the source of some of my best stories and are one of the best units it has ever been my pleasure to be associated with. They are going back to Alaska soon and another MEDEVAC will take their place. I re-wrote the Eight Minutes and Gone blog post from two months ago as a tribute/goodbye to them and re-cropped some pictures for the past page of the newsletter.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
DUST!!!!! and Good Friends
My big idea about a 1,000-mile month might be dead already. We had a HUGE dust storm today. When I rode to the south side of the base in the morning the sky was clear and it looked really nice outside. Then at 10am the visibility went from miles to feet. I let the bike sit all day then rode back to the North side for the Aeneid book group. The whole four-mile trip the sand was hitting me like rain, I could hear it on my helmet and shoulders. It was accumulating in the creases I my uniform like some kind of foul snow.
Last night we discussed Eros in the CS Lewis book group. The discussion went on for all but two hours. So we were talking about Romantic love and going back to define friendship (philia) again to be sure the contrast is clear. In the course of discussing Eros, I became very aware that I was part of a group of friends. Steve, Abbie, Gene, Ian and Edgardo--the regular members--really do bring their own perspectives to the group and, as Lewis says, bring things out in the other friends that would never be as clear otherwise. Gene and Edgardo are both chaplains and both orthodox in their beliefs, but are very different politically. With Edgardo gone home on R&R leave the last week, we only have one chaplain and not the interplay between Edgardo and Gene. Abbie and Steve are both Air Force and both friends outside the group, but Abbie is intuitive and Steve is logical. They play off each other very well. Ian is younger than all the rest of us and, like Abbie, goes to both book groups. He is about 6'6" tall and quiet until a subject hits a chord in him, which Eros did. Ian could give us the single-guy perspective on Eros in new Millenium, showing CS Lewis needs some updating.
I said I would start to talk about what I would miss in Iraq. This group of friends is at the top of my list.
Last night we discussed Eros in the CS Lewis book group. The discussion went on for all but two hours. So we were talking about Romantic love and going back to define friendship (philia) again to be sure the contrast is clear. In the course of discussing Eros, I became very aware that I was part of a group of friends. Steve, Abbie, Gene, Ian and Edgardo--the regular members--really do bring their own perspectives to the group and, as Lewis says, bring things out in the other friends that would never be as clear otherwise. Gene and Edgardo are both chaplains and both orthodox in their beliefs, but are very different politically. With Edgardo gone home on R&R leave the last week, we only have one chaplain and not the interplay between Edgardo and Gene. Abbie and Steve are both Air Force and both friends outside the group, but Abbie is intuitive and Steve is logical. They play off each other very well. Ian is younger than all the rest of us and, like Abbie, goes to both book groups. He is about 6'6" tall and quiet until a subject hits a chord in him, which Eros did. Ian could give us the single-guy perspective on Eros in new Millenium, showing CS Lewis needs some updating.
I said I would start to talk about what I would miss in Iraq. This group of friends is at the top of my list.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
500 Feet Above the Ziggurat of Ur
Today I will upload images from flying above the Ziggurat of Ur on Thursday afternoon. This area, Ur, is the hometown of Abraham. People call this place the birthplace of civilization. If civilization was born here, it has had a very complete change of address. Jared Diamond's most recent book Collapse chronicles other places on our planet which are on the way to becoming arid ruins.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
New Office--Great Discussion
This is my new office--the top of the line in trailer living. I thought you might like to see my new digs.
Last night's CSL group book discussion was great. We talked about the Affection (storge) in The Four Loves. In describing each type of love, Lewis follows an arc taking us to the highest and best expressions of love, in this case domestic affection, then dropping us like a Six Flags roller coaster with descriptions of Mrs. Fidget, Mr. Pontifex and Professor Quartz. Two members of the group are counselors and another is a negotiator, so the love gone bad section of the chapter was very useful for them. Next week Friendship or Philia.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Lapsed Evangelicals
In other posts, I have written about the choirs and the services at Church and how different it is from civilian life. Of course, one of the big differences in the Chapel versus home is the number of women. More women than men attend Church for the very good reason that women are more likely to be poor and disadvantaged than men, and the Church ministers to those with needs--material and spiritual. And for the same reason, the Church has more old people than young people.
So Chapel services are about 90 percent male regardless of denomination, which more or less reflects the population. But considering that 80 percent of the military is under 25, the soldiers attending Church are, by Army standards, somewhere between old and ancient.
So where are the kids? Avoiding Chapel just like their college-bound counterparts avoid Church. In fact, I've talked to young men who were active in youth group, went to Church every week and chucked all of it right after basic training. You want to go to Church during basic because those who don't clean the barracks.
I asked one young man I have known for a while about why he never goes to Chapel after being in Church every week. He said that everybody went to youth group because they hung out there, but they were all getting drunk on Friday and Saturday. He said that a lot of things they were taught turned out not to be true. And he was sick of feeling phony.
It was hardly the first time I had heard that. The Lapsed Evangelicals are actually fairly easy to spot. They are among the leaders in getting in trouble, but they are genuinely polite when I get one of them for a work detail. The bad kids whine and complain by reflex. The LEs break the rules, but generally accept the punishment and are good soldiers.
They still have the culture game to play when they go home. More than one of the LEs avoided that problem by going to Europe, Hawaii, or some other place rather than home for leave. A lot of studies say they will come back to the Church when they have kids. I'm not sure. The guy I talked to today and other LEs are rejecting what they see as a fraudulent subculture for what they see as real life.
And an aggravation of that perception is some of the people they see in the Army who attend Church. There is choir member known for having fits in the workplace, a guy who got relieved for incompetence as a squad leader and believes (and talks about) many conspiracy theories, arch conservatives who talk about Liberal conspiracies, and a whole collection of strange people. There are, of course, some of the best people in the unit--soldiers who work uncomplaining in the worst conditions this deployment has.
One of the things I most looked forward to on this deployment was meeting more of the kind of believers I served with in Germany. But my last overseas assignment was before the Evangelical Church was swallowed by the politics of Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell and the Christian Right. The Army reflects the nation it recruits from and even the LEs vote straight Republican. They may be doubting God and rebelling against their family, the Church and (particularly) their youth group, but the don't go so far as to become "Librals." The LEs that go to college do that.
So Chapel services are about 90 percent male regardless of denomination, which more or less reflects the population. But considering that 80 percent of the military is under 25, the soldiers attending Church are, by Army standards, somewhere between old and ancient.
So where are the kids? Avoiding Chapel just like their college-bound counterparts avoid Church. In fact, I've talked to young men who were active in youth group, went to Church every week and chucked all of it right after basic training. You want to go to Church during basic because those who don't clean the barracks.
I asked one young man I have known for a while about why he never goes to Chapel after being in Church every week. He said that everybody went to youth group because they hung out there, but they were all getting drunk on Friday and Saturday. He said that a lot of things they were taught turned out not to be true. And he was sick of feeling phony.
It was hardly the first time I had heard that. The Lapsed Evangelicals are actually fairly easy to spot. They are among the leaders in getting in trouble, but they are genuinely polite when I get one of them for a work detail. The bad kids whine and complain by reflex. The LEs break the rules, but generally accept the punishment and are good soldiers.
They still have the culture game to play when they go home. More than one of the LEs avoided that problem by going to Europe, Hawaii, or some other place rather than home for leave. A lot of studies say they will come back to the Church when they have kids. I'm not sure. The guy I talked to today and other LEs are rejecting what they see as a fraudulent subculture for what they see as real life.
And an aggravation of that perception is some of the people they see in the Army who attend Church. There is choir member known for having fits in the workplace, a guy who got relieved for incompetence as a squad leader and believes (and talks about) many conspiracy theories, arch conservatives who talk about Liberal conspiracies, and a whole collection of strange people. There are, of course, some of the best people in the unit--soldiers who work uncomplaining in the worst conditions this deployment has.
One of the things I most looked forward to on this deployment was meeting more of the kind of believers I served with in Germany. But my last overseas assignment was before the Evangelical Church was swallowed by the politics of Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell and the Christian Right. The Army reflects the nation it recruits from and even the LEs vote straight Republican. They may be doubting God and rebelling against their family, the Church and (particularly) their youth group, but the don't go so far as to become "Librals." The LEs that go to college do that.
Monday, September 21, 2009
My New Job--Then and Now
Abel is the dancer in the middle. 1-70 Armor Motor Pool, Weisbaden, West Germany, 1977.
As I mentioned Saturday, I have a new job. Not, of course, in the sense of I am moving to a different base or even eating in a different chow hall or, God Forbid, wearing different clothes. But I will be doing public relations work full time for our battalion. For those not keeping score on my work life, until Saturday my duties were the following list:
--Squad Leader
--Maintenance Team Leader
--Echo Company Public Affairs
--Battalion Public Affairs
--Morale, Welfare, Recreation NCO
--Drug Test NCO
My new duties:
--Battalion Public Affairs
--Echo Company Public Affairs
nothing else!
My best friends from the 70s, Abel Lopez and Cliff Almes will think this is very funny, back to the future, circle of life, reincarnation or whatever metaphor you use for history repeating itself.
On December 23, 1977, one year and three months into our three-year deployment to Germany, our new brigade Command Sergeant Major had an NCO meeting at 1030 hours. Hundreds of us filled the base theater. Our CSM, by the way was 48 years old and could still do the weekly brigade 4-mile run. All of us were astounded that someone that old could still run. He was a tank gunner in the Korean war according to some of the legends surrounding him.
Anyway, the CSM wanted a line company sergeant to be the brigade public affiars sergeant. He did not want "ragged-ass sissy Army journalist writing about real soldiers." I had a story on his desk before he got back from lunch. I got the job. And most everyone in the tank company I left was some level of envious.
So 32 years later, eight months into taking a year off from public relations to serve my country, I am full-time PR again with a very limited wardrobe and drastically reduced salary. Cliff and I are going to be talking Wednesday night. Cliff really liked Germany by the way. He is Bruder Timotheus, part of a Franciscan Brotherhood in Darmstadt Germany in a place called the Land of Canaan. Cliff was my roommate in 1978 until he got out to become a novice at the monastery where he still lives. I will try to call Abel also. He was commander of the tank next to mine in the first platoon of Bravo Company, 1st Battalion, 70th Armor. He is now a retired fire captain in San Diego.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thank You to Several (actually 22) People
To Sarah Reisert for Propel Packets and razors (not to be used together) and for sending me a weird web site every Thursday.
To 2LT West's Dad for sending copies of Inferno, we just finished reading it in the Tallil Dead Poet's Society.
To Brigitte Van Tiggelen for sending copies of Aeneid which we are starting next Tuesday as well as for the copies of The Weight of Glory we are reading now in the CS Lewis book group.
To Larry Wise for putting hand grips on the 29er bike so I won't burn my hands on the 130+ degree days and the other bike repairs.
To my Uncle Jack for connecting Viet Nam to the current war and reminding me how much I would have loved to tell my Dad about all of this over a cup of coffee.
To my sister who was upset when I enlisted in 1972 and no happier this time but is very brave.
To Matt Clark who spent the worst hour of this year with me--he drove me to the airport for the return trip to Iraq.
To my roommate for putting up with "livin' in a friggin' library."
To Kristine Chin for editing all three issues of the Dark Horse Post. The current issue will go out tomorrow.
To Amy Albert who wrote me a few days ago asking if she could help by sending us stuff and will be sending some of the future books for the book group.
To Meredith Gould for various reality checks she has given me about life, the universe and posting.
To Robin Abrahams for the Clerihew contest and for sending the her book Mind Over Manners (available on amazon.com!) and to Marc Abrahams for asking (bemused) questions no one else asks.
To Jan Felice and Scott Haverstick for laughing at me as well as with me about this whole Iraq thing.
To Abel Lopez and Brother Timotheus who have been my friends so long they take this whole Iraq thing in stride.
To Lauren, Lisa, Iolanthe and Nigel for being proud of me even though having their Dad gone for a year was not in their plans.
To Annalisa for dealing with everything back home, taking care of Nigel and letting me know when the blog posts go too far.
And now the bad joke. . .
To 2LT West's Dad for sending copies of Inferno, we just finished reading it in the Tallil Dead Poet's Society.
To Brigitte Van Tiggelen for sending copies of Aeneid which we are starting next Tuesday as well as for the copies of The Weight of Glory we are reading now in the CS Lewis book group.
To Larry Wise for putting hand grips on the 29er bike so I won't burn my hands on the 130+ degree days and the other bike repairs.
To my Uncle Jack for connecting Viet Nam to the current war and reminding me how much I would have loved to tell my Dad about all of this over a cup of coffee.
To my sister who was upset when I enlisted in 1972 and no happier this time but is very brave.
To Matt Clark who spent the worst hour of this year with me--he drove me to the airport for the return trip to Iraq.
To my roommate for putting up with "livin' in a friggin' library."
To Kristine Chin for editing all three issues of the Dark Horse Post. The current issue will go out tomorrow.
To Amy Albert who wrote me a few days ago asking if she could help by sending us stuff and will be sending some of the future books for the book group.
To Meredith Gould for various reality checks she has given me about life, the universe and posting.
To Robin Abrahams for the Clerihew contest and for sending the her book Mind Over Manners (available on amazon.com!) and to Marc Abrahams for asking (bemused) questions no one else asks.
To Jan Felice and Scott Haverstick for laughing at me as well as with me about this whole Iraq thing.
To Abel Lopez and Brother Timotheus who have been my friends so long they take this whole Iraq thing in stride.
To Lauren, Lisa, Iolanthe and Nigel for being proud of me even though having their Dad gone for a year was not in their plans.
To Annalisa for dealing with everything back home, taking care of Nigel and letting me know when the blog posts go too far.
And now the bad joke. . .
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Envy Again
So I went to the guy I wrote about a few days ago and told him I envied his job--he has no responsibilities except public affairs for a unit of 600 soldiers, which is one of my jobs. He also has the use of an SUV which would be nice to have in the middle of a day or to go to meetings without being drenched in sweat from a bike ride. But having told him, my envy is more properly jealousy. I wish I had what he has but I do not want to take what he has. Envy has that dimension of wanting to take from its object.
Anyway, he said he negotiated his deal before the deployment started--somehting that would be difficult for me at this point.
And speaking of sin, I was up larte last night writing a post about two soldiers who are in different ways unable to do their jobs, but are covered up by the Army system that wants the numbers to look good on paper. I took the post down again because looking at it in the morning it was uncharitable and it violated my OPSEC rule about identifying soldiers. There were enough specifics to identify people and that is not what I should be doing.
And then another friend pointed out last night that my year in the desert is hardly the spiritual experience I hoped for. She is right. When I return to America, I will be deliriously happy to resume whatever I can of my life as it was--family, friends, work, racing, pub night. My spiritual life will need as much cleaning up as my dust filled lungs after my year here in the desert.
Anyway, he said he negotiated his deal before the deployment started--somehting that would be difficult for me at this point.
And speaking of sin, I was up larte last night writing a post about two soldiers who are in different ways unable to do their jobs, but are covered up by the Army system that wants the numbers to look good on paper. I took the post down again because looking at it in the morning it was uncharitable and it violated my OPSEC rule about identifying soldiers. There were enough specifics to identify people and that is not what I should be doing.
And then another friend pointed out last night that my year in the desert is hardly the spiritual experience I hoped for. She is right. When I return to America, I will be deliriously happy to resume whatever I can of my life as it was--family, friends, work, racing, pub night. My spiritual life will need as much cleaning up as my dust filled lungs after my year here in the desert.
Friday, August 21, 2009
My Job and Envy
CS Lewis wrote in many places that the trouble with writing about the Devil, in his book the Screwtape Letters, was that thinking too much about the Devil hurt his own spiritual life. So I have been writing about envy a lot lately concerning the on-line article about our brigade and have been seeing how much envy is in my own life.
First, let me make clear that all the fuss I made about my job here had no real outcome. I thought one of the good things about a year on active duty would be I would lead some kind of Simple Life. I would have a job. I would do that job and leave it when I was done. As it turns out, I have a primary job as a squad leader and as Sergeant Tool Bitch in the motor pool, but when they are done, I am also the battalion public affairs sergeant, the PA sergeant for our company, I put together the newsletter, and have a couple of other additional duties. Beginning recently, I do the newsletter and some of my other work during motor pool hours. No Simple Life for me.
Which brings me to Envy. Our brigade is primarily two battalions. The guy who does the PA work for the other battalion does not have another job. He just writes and takes pictures. And every time I have seen him lately he is driving an SUV. So he only goes to the motor pool when his air-conditioned vehicle needs service. I am seriously envious of him.
And I am also the subject of envy. Since I became militant about doing my PA work at least partially during duty hours, I have been in air conditioning working on the newsletter or battalion PA work when my fellow motor pool soldiers are out in the sun. And this week has been particularly hot because the wind has died down. So they think I am doing nothing because I am working partially inside.
First, let me make clear that all the fuss I made about my job here had no real outcome. I thought one of the good things about a year on active duty would be I would lead some kind of Simple Life. I would have a job. I would do that job and leave it when I was done. As it turns out, I have a primary job as a squad leader and as Sergeant Tool Bitch in the motor pool, but when they are done, I am also the battalion public affairs sergeant, the PA sergeant for our company, I put together the newsletter, and have a couple of other additional duties. Beginning recently, I do the newsletter and some of my other work during motor pool hours. No Simple Life for me.
Which brings me to Envy. Our brigade is primarily two battalions. The guy who does the PA work for the other battalion does not have another job. He just writes and takes pictures. And every time I have seen him lately he is driving an SUV. So he only goes to the motor pool when his air-conditioned vehicle needs service. I am seriously envious of him.
And I am also the subject of envy. Since I became militant about doing my PA work at least partially during duty hours, I have been in air conditioning working on the newsletter or battalion PA work when my fellow motor pool soldiers are out in the sun. And this week has been particularly hot because the wind has died down. So they think I am doing nothing because I am working partially inside.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Book Groups and the Education Center
A couple of weeks ago I was worried I was giving a Pollyanna impression of life in Iraq. During the last two weeks you could wonder if chicken shit and job confusion are the sum of my days. That would be just as wrong. Yesterday, after all the job drama was over, I finished my work in the motor pool, then spent a couple of hours before dinner transferring and shrinking photos for the company newsletter.
At dinner I saw a young woman in my squad eating dinner with two older female sergeants. This might be the third time I have seen them as a dinner group in the last week. The young sergeant-to-be is 23 and will be a lot better off with female mentors.
Next was the first meeting of "Beyond Narnia" as CS Lewis reading group I started. There were four soldiers at the first meeting and four more who should be coming next week. Three of the four people were from the Dante group, so the fourth, a chaplain with a unit that arrived recently, introduced himself, then I told the group about CS Lewis's life and work after which they asked questions for about 20 minutes. It was a lot of fun. One asked about Shadowlands (the CSL movie) and about his family. Another asked for more details about CSL's conversion.
We will be reading the book of essays titled The Weight of Glory and out first essay will be "Learning in War Time." Thanks go out again to the father of one of the lieutenants in our unit who sent us most of the books. Three more were sent by Brigitte Van Tiggelen, a historian who regularly visits the library/museum where I work.
Today I worked in the motor pool until 3pm then drove over to the repair hangards on the other side fo the base to shoot pictures of a CH-47 Chinook helicopter going through major maintenance. I got some good shots of a crew removing the rotor hubs from the top of the bird. Tomorrow I will get more shots of the overhaul work.
After the photos, I went to the education center. I helped a couple of soldiers with word problems then spoke to the woman who coordinates the tutoring sessions. Barring schedule changes, I should be able to volunteer an hour on Tuesday and two hours on Thursday.
At the Dante group tonight, the first order of business was voting on the next book. Aeneid won by one vote over Purgatorio. But everyone agreed we would go back to Purgatorio after Aeneid. We should be able to read Inferno, Aeneid, Purgatorio and start Paradiso before I rotate out, and maybe someone else can take over.
We got our first question for the translator tonight. Tony Esolen, who translated the version we are reading, agreed to take questions by email if I can't answer them. Tonight's question: Cleopatra and Dido are suicides, why are they in the higher part of Hell where Lust is punished (easier punishment) not five levels down with the suicides?
Life is mostly good.
At dinner I saw a young woman in my squad eating dinner with two older female sergeants. This might be the third time I have seen them as a dinner group in the last week. The young sergeant-to-be is 23 and will be a lot better off with female mentors.
Next was the first meeting of "Beyond Narnia" as CS Lewis reading group I started. There were four soldiers at the first meeting and four more who should be coming next week. Three of the four people were from the Dante group, so the fourth, a chaplain with a unit that arrived recently, introduced himself, then I told the group about CS Lewis's life and work after which they asked questions for about 20 minutes. It was a lot of fun. One asked about Shadowlands (the CSL movie) and about his family. Another asked for more details about CSL's conversion.
We will be reading the book of essays titled The Weight of Glory and out first essay will be "Learning in War Time." Thanks go out again to the father of one of the lieutenants in our unit who sent us most of the books. Three more were sent by Brigitte Van Tiggelen, a historian who regularly visits the library/museum where I work.
Today I worked in the motor pool until 3pm then drove over to the repair hangards on the other side fo the base to shoot pictures of a CH-47 Chinook helicopter going through major maintenance. I got some good shots of a crew removing the rotor hubs from the top of the bird. Tomorrow I will get more shots of the overhaul work.
After the photos, I went to the education center. I helped a couple of soldiers with word problems then spoke to the woman who coordinates the tutoring sessions. Barring schedule changes, I should be able to volunteer an hour on Tuesday and two hours on Thursday.
At the Dante group tonight, the first order of business was voting on the next book. Aeneid won by one vote over Purgatorio. But everyone agreed we would go back to Purgatorio after Aeneid. We should be able to read Inferno, Aeneid, Purgatorio and start Paradiso before I rotate out, and maybe someone else can take over.
We got our first question for the translator tonight. Tony Esolen, who translated the version we are reading, agreed to take questions by email if I can't answer them. Tonight's question: Cleopatra and Dido are suicides, why are they in the higher part of Hell where Lust is punished (easier punishment) not five levels down with the suicides?
Life is mostly good.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Semester Break Blues
Before we left Pennsylvania the guys who had been deployed before warned us people would start to fall apart at six months. My wife wrote today to remind me of the parallels between how here students feel after parents weekend--missing there family with a long semester ahead--and how I have been feeling lately.
Well here we are at six month and the predictions are, unfortunately, coming true. Two mechanics are home in the USA getting knee operations, one from a touch football game and another from a sports injury that was not healing. There have been a lot of jokes about "When's the next football game?" and "Do you need anybody to work on a roof, sarge?"
And we are getting lectures on getting slack--except we report for work at 0700 and many of us do PT before work. Some soldiers are getting vehicles. The vehicles are restored wrecks that are less than perfect and an average of 15 years old. And at the same time, the rules about driving them are tightening up. Any traffic ticket is a visit to the Sergeant Major for the first offense and an article 15 (loss of pay and/or rank)for the second offense. So having a vehicle is not such a great thing that way.
The weather is following the generally declining mood. Usually we wake up to a blue sky and 84 degrees at 0500. The weather becomes hot, windy and dusty by 0700, but the beginning is nice.
Today at 0530 the temp was 94, the wind was up and dust filled the air. It just keeps getting worse. The motor sergeant released the mechanics at noon today because the conditions were so bad outside.
THE FREAKY ORANGE COLOR OF SUNLIGHT DIFFUSED THROUGH DUST
DUST STORM ON THE AIRFIELD
The running race was canceled this morning and it was so dusty I did not ride. I am not riding at 6pm either so this will be the first day since I got back from leave that I have not made at least one circuit of the post on the bike. But the weather is so far beyond foul I will ride in the gym.
Well here we are at six month and the predictions are, unfortunately, coming true. Two mechanics are home in the USA getting knee operations, one from a touch football game and another from a sports injury that was not healing. There have been a lot of jokes about "When's the next football game?" and "Do you need anybody to work on a roof, sarge?"
And we are getting lectures on getting slack--except we report for work at 0700 and many of us do PT before work. Some soldiers are getting vehicles. The vehicles are restored wrecks that are less than perfect and an average of 15 years old. And at the same time, the rules about driving them are tightening up. Any traffic ticket is a visit to the Sergeant Major for the first offense and an article 15 (loss of pay and/or rank)for the second offense. So having a vehicle is not such a great thing that way.
The weather is following the generally declining mood. Usually we wake up to a blue sky and 84 degrees at 0500. The weather becomes hot, windy and dusty by 0700, but the beginning is nice.
Today at 0530 the temp was 94, the wind was up and dust filled the air. It just keeps getting worse. The motor sergeant released the mechanics at noon today because the conditions were so bad outside.
THE FREAKY ORANGE COLOR OF SUNLIGHT DIFFUSED THROUGH DUST
DUST STORM ON THE AIRFIELD
The running race was canceled this morning and it was so dusty I did not ride. I am not riding at 6pm either so this will be the first day since I got back from leave that I have not made at least one circuit of the post on the bike. But the weather is so far beyond foul I will ride in the gym.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Hell Boy at the Chapel
Yesterday as I was leaving the 9am traditional Protestant service, the choir for the 11 am service was starting to arrive. I remembered the very enthusiastic young captain from Tennessee who jumps when he sings. When I was about to walk through the door, in walks the subject of my June 8 post, the silent guitar player on the bridge. The guy who wants to make a comeback with a metal band when deployment is over. He told me that evening last month he had a home in Hell. and there he was walking in the door with his enormous 12-string electric bass.
I guess the Chapel band gives him a chance to play.
Who the Wannabe Wants to Be
The Catholic Chaplain from NYC is on the way to a base up north, so my pastor can quit worrying that I will become a Catholic simply to hang around with former Fordham philosophy professor who loves New York.
A week from tonight I will be starting a CS Lewis reading group. The first book is "The Weight of Glory." One of the chaplains said he would attend. This book group will also be in the library in the recreation center. I can't lead a book discussion like this inside the Chapel because official religious activities have to be led by a Chaplain. I'll start out with one essay per week and see how that goes. I can either start with "The Inner Ring" CSL's advice on how to navigate the murky waters of cliques or "Why I am not a Pacifist." CSL's reasons for disdaining pacifism are very similar to George Orwell's. They are contemporaries, but certainly different on philosophy and religion. I am planning on saving the title essay for last. If the group decides to continue, we can move to the Screwtape Letters or some other book they would choose.
Today's picture is from my leave. They are of the doctor who fixed my broken neck and I at his office. The practice he works for hired a writer to do a freelance article on him and I am his success story.
I guess the Chapel band gives him a chance to play.
Who the Wannabe Wants to Be
The Catholic Chaplain from NYC is on the way to a base up north, so my pastor can quit worrying that I will become a Catholic simply to hang around with former Fordham philosophy professor who loves New York.
A week from tonight I will be starting a CS Lewis reading group. The first book is "The Weight of Glory." One of the chaplains said he would attend. This book group will also be in the library in the recreation center. I can't lead a book discussion like this inside the Chapel because official religious activities have to be led by a Chaplain. I'll start out with one essay per week and see how that goes. I can either start with "The Inner Ring" CSL's advice on how to navigate the murky waters of cliques or "Why I am not a Pacifist." CSL's reasons for disdaining pacifism are very similar to George Orwell's. They are contemporaries, but certainly different on philosophy and religion. I am planning on saving the title essay for last. If the group decides to continue, we can move to the Screwtape Letters or some other book they would choose.
Today's picture is from my leave. They are of the doctor who fixed my broken neck and I at his office. The practice he works for hired a writer to do a freelance article on him and I am his success story.
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Tasks, Conditions and Standards is how we learn to do everything in the Army. If you are assigned to be the machine gunner in a rifle squad... -
On 10 November 2003 the crew of Chinook helicopter Yankee 2-6 made this landing on a cliff in Afghanistan. Artist Larry Selman i... -
C.S. Lewis , best known for The Chronicles of Narnia served in World War I in the British Army. He was a citizen of Northern Ireland an...
