More Than the Sins of the Flesh

Two days ago our battalion commander spoke to several hundred of us on the parade field about what he expects for the training ahead and the deployment to follow. Since the deployment began and most recently last night, we have been getting official warnings about the sins of the flesh, but very little about the sins of the spirit.

If you need a brief refresher, the Seven Deadly Sins (from least to worst):
Lust
Gluttony
Anger (murder)
Sloth
Greed
Envy
Pride

The first three are the sins of the flesh. The last three are the sins of the spirit. Sloth can be either.

We get warned regularly about all the penalties of lust: No sex with other soldiers being the primary warning. We have also had many warnings about porn, but several thousand young men with DVD players and computers makes that warning hollow at best.

Gluttony gets two mentions: We cannot drink during training or on deployment, and those who do not meet weight standards don't get promoted, no matter how proficient they are as soldiers or technicians.

Anger gets covered in Rules of War briefings.

Sloth (meaning lack of motivation in a military context) is penalized in many ways, both official and social.

Of the sins of the spirit, greed gets mentioned mostly in the context of stealing, but is very little tolerated.




But when our commander spoke he brought up Envy. He said specifically that envy can destroy unit cohesion--which is the military way of saying it destroys community. He then said, "If someone else is getting something you are not getting, go find out how to get it. Don't sit back and complain." He's right, of course, envy does destroy community. It's just the first time I have ever heard it condemned in a military briefing.

I don't suppose I will ever hear Pride condemned in a military formation. It is hardly ever condemned in Church. But Envy is a big step forward. My friend Bruder Timotheus of the Franciscan Brotherhood in Darmstadt Germany was my roommate at Wiesbaden Air Base in 1978. He left the military to become a Franciscan and lived in Germany ever since. He has said more than once that his vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience lets him and the other brothers get on with the really difficult work of living in community for the rest of their lives. By pushing aside the sins of the flesh, they can begin the difficult work of spiritual warfare against Envy and Pride, the sins Dante put at the very bottom of Hell.

Training While We Wait

The best laid training plans get delayed and fall apart for a variety of reasons. So with 20 minutes between training sessions today, our platoon sergeant paired us off for 20 minutes of martial arts training. We learned two moves: how to parry a jab to the face and hit your opponent below the belt in one smooth move, and how to disable an attackers arm when he swings a fist at you. The second one is called a "destroy" move on the attackers arm.

Our platoon sergeant is a martial arts instructor, so he can fill in down time with martial arts instruction. Other sergeants fill in with different training.

More PT

This morning we got up at 0445 (WAY before sun up) for an hour of PT beginning at 0530. We stretched then did timed sets of pushups followed by sit up ladders and other exercises. We did the exercises in pairs so with the sit up ladders, I did 5, he did 5, then 10, then 15, then 20, then back down the ladder. It looks like PT at 0530 will be the rule until April. The only change will to an earlier time. Most everyone in our platoon managed to eat breakfast and change between 0630 when PT ended and 0800 formation. But in another platoon only half of the 40 soldiers ate. So if the other platoon does not eat, we get up earlier. We were almost all civilians until two weeks ago. I am sure that the prospect of getting up even earlier will get the soldiers who missed breakfast into the chow line--or at least saying they weren't hungry.

My New Wardrobe

We are still getting new equipment, medical exams, filling out forms and waiting for the rest of the unit to arrive before we start training. Yesterday we got our new body armor--the latest version with a quick-release system and an eight-layer cold weather suit. I am wearing the outer layer in the photo.

Good Time to Take Leave from my Day Job

I just got a note from one of my friends at my day job. The economic crisis just caught up with CHF and nine people were laid off or about 15% of the employees. A few weeks ago, I was joking with my boss about how much money she saved by not paying my salary and benefits for the next year or so. I hope having me on military leave allowed one more person to keep working.

Our New Love Life

This morning fifty of us were out in the cold and the dark waiting for a bus that, among other things was going to take us to get cold-weather clothing. While we shivered, the motor platoon leader (a first lieutenant in his mid-20s in charge of the motor platoon) came to the front of the formation to talk to us. He began by asking how many of us were married--about a third of us raised our hands.

Then he said, "How many of you are married to a soldier in this platoon. . .In this company. . .In this battalion? Good. No one. That means no one should be having a sexual relationship with anyone in this command."

He said this policy was one of the general orders of the Army. He then asked if anyone in the formation could explain the Army policy on this kind of relationship between soldiers. A voice from the back of the formation yelled, "DON'T F#CK YOUR BUDDY SIR."

After we stopped laughing the LT continued without missing a beat, mentioning the terrible penalties for getting caught.

Then we were dismissed because the bus was not going to arrive for another 20 minutes.

A Shot in the Arm, Actually Both

Today I got shots for smallpox, anthrax, hepatitis, and typhus--three in the left arm, smallpox in the right. They also took three tubes of blood for various reasons. They asked before the shots whether I was left or right handed. I said left and almost immediately I got the smallpox vaccine in the right arm. Since this one is the most painful, that would be a good idea normally, but the right shoulder is the one that got operated on. I suppose it will keep all the pain in one place. So far it doesn't hurt too much.

Tomorrow we get more equipment for Iraq. Because we are leaving about the time the chow hall opens for breakfast we will be eating SunMeadow Shelf Stable Meals. My squad will be eating meal M033:
Two (2) 7.5 oz. Can Spaghetti
One (1) 4.0 oz. Fruit Cup
One (1) 1.0 oz. Trail Mix
One (1) 1.0 oz. Wheat Crackers
One (1) 4.0 oz. Pudding
Two (2) Packets Hot Sauce
One (1) 11.5 oz. Drink
One (1) Wrapped Peppermint Candy
One (1) Cutlery Kit

Spaghetti for breakfast. Yummmm!

If you check out the SunMeadow Web site, you'll see their main business is assisted living and nursing homes. I am going to run back to the chow hall and get some fruit.

Good Food

At dinner last night, several of us were talking about how good the food is here--and it really is. Several different options, a good salad bar, good deserts. But talking about food always brings up the perfect meals that someone's mother, grandmother, wife, even a mother-in-law got a nod in this list of roast chicken, sweet potato pie, meat loaf chocolate cake, and other memorable foods.

I got the table laughing telling them that I loved military food from the first day. My Mom burnt nearly everything. In basic training when the other guys we moaning about the meat loaf I was saying, "You gonna eat that?" She did cook things I like, but I remember I got into the habit of drinking coffee only after I left home. My Mom had a plastic percolator.



She made a full pot of strong coffee in the morning then unplugged the coffeemaker when she left for work. She plugged it back in when she got home and drank the re-perked coffee in the evening. I grew up thinking that when you put milk in coffee, the resulting liquid was gray. I liked Army coffee. But when I went home on leave, I only drank coffee at Dunkin Donuts or diners. I let my Mom think I didn't drink coffee. She still had that percolator.

First Day on the Ground--Cattle Car Buses

Next time we ride in Fort Sill buses I will post a picture. The troop transports that took us to the base theater for the welcome briefing were not buses, they were tractor trailers with seats--cattle car bodies with multi-level seating borrowed from Boston T subways. They actually were comfortable, but they look so strange, a lot like cattle trucks. On the second ride we filled all 50 seats and had 20 standing. There were "moos" every time the truck turned a corner and the standing riders bumped into each other.

Among the welcome briefings was a captain who introduced us to his team and told us that they were the ULNO for our unit. He had a dozen PowerPoint slides and and never once spelled out what ULNO meant. I suppose many soldiers know that ULNO is Unit Liason Office, but I didn't. I asked the captain what ULNO meant after the briefing. He said Unit Liason Office, but didn't explain the "N." So I asked another member of his team during the break. The soldier I asked was a lieutenant who had been an enlisted man for many years before becoming an officer. He looked like a guy who take a joke so I said, "WTF ULNO." He smiled and said, "It should really be a small "n." (ULnO). I was using the first definition of WTF in Wikipedia.

Hollywood Again

The Lancaster Sunday News published another story about the old soldier going back once more. My kids told me that the print edition includes a photo of the whole family, but the online edition doesn't. Follow this link and you get the story, but only a photo of me. We all arrived safely this morning. Training starts tomorrow. Superbowl party tonight.

Goodbye at Physical Therapy

On Wednesday, Joe and Gretchen, my physical therapists, gave me final instructions for keeping my shoulder healthy. At Lancaster orthopedic Group they have a wall of shirts of athletes they have treated in one of the therapy rooms. Joe asked me for an Army t-shirt to hang on the wall. Joe is about my age and well remembers the John Wayne movie The Green Berets. In that awful film, a dying sergeant asks that if they are going to make a memorial to him, they name a latrine after him--that way all the men will see it. The sergeant got his wish. And Joe hung my t-shirt above the entrance to the men's bathroom.

Goodbye Ceremony

Tonight we had an official goodbye ceremony for our families courtesy of a group known as the Mechanicsburg Club. We got a catered dinner at the Farm Show. My family and I shared a table with another soldier from our unit and his parents. My youngest daughter Lisa, who is a vegetarian, sat next to the soldier. He got the beef. In fact his all time favorite restaurant is a Brazilian Churrscuria--the ones where more than a dozen kind of meat are served by waiters moving around the restaurant offering various cuts of mostly red meat. He and Lisa made a lot of jokes about what constituted a real meal. My wife said Lisa actually just wants to kill vegetables.

Even better, they had a Kids Food table, so my son (no vegetarian) could have hot dogs, pizza, chicken nuggets AND mac and cheese!!

My First Day & First Additional Duty

At 0730 we had our first formation of the deployment. During that formation we heard again what we had heard ever since we were told we are getting deployed: Accountability is the First Priority. Every leader has to know where his or her people are at all times. So we had a roll call. We traded cell phone numbers. We met the new guys. When I went to the gym at lunch time, I made sure my squad leader knew where I was and when I would be back.

And just before lunch (Chicken with Noodles MRE--I never opened it) my platoon leader let me now he would be in charge of Physical Training (PT) while we are at Fort Sill. I knew he would need a sergeant in charge so I volunteered immediately. I was wondering how I would find time to work out during our training phase. But by volunteering to be NCO in charge of PT, I could volunteer for the aerobic training which nobody ever wants. So the lieutenant gets to be in charge of the PT people actually like, and I get to run. Although it will be with up to 80 guys, some of whom do not share my enthusiasm.

I'm a GO

Just a few minutes ago, I got a call from my unit saying I am officially a "Go" for deployment and should report for duty tomorrow morning at 0730.

I have been sure I would get cleared for the big trip. And when I spoke to the administrative specialist on the phone I was making jokes. But when I got off the phone, I was both excited and felt like all the strength went out of my legs.

I am happy and having the biggest "Oh Shit" moment I have had since the pain killers wore off after my last surgery. After all this time and all that distracting paperwork, it's finally real. The one-year clock starts ticking tomorrow.

Communication Without Words--On the Phone

Today I called my No-Go Counselor again. As soon as she answered the phone I promised I would not ask her anything about my status, because, of course, she was not allowed to say anything. So I told her I did not want to bother that one sergeant's major (SGM) in the whole world whom I could ask about my status. Then she said that the SGM was a very busy guy processing many people for deployment. Since she told me yesterday that she would be lloking for a doctor to sign my form after I sent the additional info from the surgeon, I asked her if she was successful in her work yesterday. She said she was and then added there was no need to bother the SGM about my status and said I should ask the full-time guys in my unit to check the deployment roster tomorrow afternoon.

By telling me to have the full-time guys check the roster, she was saying (if I correctly heard the smile in her voice) that a doctor did sign my form and that by tomorrow I will be a Go.

If the governor of Illinois had the communications skills of my No Go counselor, he wouldn't be on his way to impeachment and prison.

The Mute Counselor

In December when I went through the second round of pre-deployment medical evaluations, I was officially a "No Go" because of the shoulder surgery on October 30. I was assigned a No-Go Counselor who said it was her job to "get me through the process of clearing the No Go and getting me ready for deployment." She sounded like a customer service rep.

And she was. Until last Tuesday. That was the day the surgeon who did my shoulder surgery examined me and said I was good to go. He then filled out an Army form saying I was ready to pushups, swimming, carry 48 pounds of gear, etc. At that point, my No-Go counselor became my No-Talk counselor. Once she confirmed she had the form from the surgeon, she said I could not ask about my Go, No-Go status.

What? It turns out Army regulations prevent them from discussing actual decisions on status. What else WOULD I want to talk about except my status with a No-Go counselor?

So this morning I put on one of my best suits and went to the Army Medical Records office at Fort Indiantown Gap. My youngest daughter went with me. It is her 18th birthday and she wanted to get a military ID card. She was also very well dressed. The sergeant at the service window took my information right away. He confused me with a Colonel Gussman. To be fair, he did continue to help me when he found out I was a sergeant, not a colonel.

He said they would call back today. And they did. It turns out the Army form I sent was not enough, they needed another piece of paper. By a very good coincidence, when my No-Go Counselor called, I was at my Physical Therapy appointment, in the same building as the surgeon's office. I went straight to the surgeon's office keeping the counselor on the phone. The surgeon's admin assistant was in and willing to get me the document I needed while the counselor was on the phone.

A half-hour later, I called the counselor back. She said she thinks she has the right piece of paper now and just needs to get a doctor to sign it off. She also apologized profusely, but Army regulations prevent her from discussing the status of my case. She did tell me there is one sergeant's major on the entire who is authorized to discuss my case. She gave me his name and suggested the full-time folks at my unit contact him.

So as of now I am still a No Go and waiting for a doctor's review.

Goodbye For Now at Church

This morning I spoke for a few minutes at both services. We are members of a Presbyterian Church, so this kind of testimony is written out. Here's what I said:

Good morning brothers and sisters. If all goes according to the plans the Army has for me as of now--and they could certainly change--the next time we will worship together at Wheatland will be in February of 2010. For those of you who don't know, I am going to Iraq in May after spending the next 2 1/2 months at Fort Sill in Oklahoma then a couple of weeks in Kuwait to acclimate to the rather warm weather in the Middle East.

So I wanted to say goodbye for now and to let you know I will be praying for you as you face the difficult months ahead.

I know, you thought you would be praying for me, and, of course, I welcome your prayers, but really, it is you who are facing the greater danger, while I will be experiencing many blessings that you folks can only wish for.

Because we all agree, or at least if we are members of Christ's Body we have affirmed many times, that the purpose of our lives is to Love God and enjoy Him forever. And we know from the life and words of Our Lord and the Apostles and the greatest saints that have followed in His footsteps, that the surest path to beatitude is through suffering--not to mention poverty, grief, and forsaking the blessings of this world.

Even in the current economic climate you will all still be spending money on things you need, choosing among competing brands and stores, faced with a dizzying array of choices. You have to decide where to eat, when to eat, what to eat. You can quit your job, choose your doctor, sleep in a room with fewer than 10 roommates, choose your wardrobe, make your own schedule, even have Budweiser and Twinkies for breakfast if you really want to.

In fact, a few of you may even be in doubt as to whether your work is valuable or you are doing the right thing with your life.

I, on the other hand, will not be spending time choosing my clothes, my meals, my forty or so roommates, meal times, or what I am eating. While I may have doubts about the wisdom of the US getting into the Iraq war, I have no doubt that someone needs to be there now and I no longer have any choice about being one of those someones. And I have the distinct comfort of having no choice, that I am obeying the Lord simply by following my orders and giving my will to the Army to which I have sworn allegiance.

Of course, I will need your prayers. I will be without my family and they will be without me. I will be lonely and having spent 55 years getting my own way, the months ahead will hurt as the Army crushes some of the rebellion in me which I have not submitted to Our Lord.

But I will pray for you. The most vibrant faith grows in suffering and persecution, and you are full citizens in the one of the most blessed corners of the richest nation in the history of the world. You, my brothers and sisters, have a real and difficult burden to bear. So I hope you will pray for my family and pray that I will accept the blessing that awaits me. And I will pray that your souls thrive amid the most pervasive temptation on this earth.

I Got to 21! (Not My Age)

At Physical Therapy on Friday, did four sets of pushups, 10, 10, 17 and then the magic number (for age group 52 to 56) 21 pushups. So if I need to do a PT test on the spot to convince the Army doctor I am ready to go, I can do that. I probably should not have worried about 21 pushups, but I feel a lot better now that I know I can.
On Monday I will be going to the Army medical records unit in person to see if there is anything I can do to get my records marked Go instead of No Go. I'll have PT gear with me just in case.

Nigel's New Truck

I bought a die cast truck very similar to this one for Nigel at a hobby shop near where I work. When I brought it home I told Nigel one of my favorite stories about my Dad. Those of you who read earlier posts about him know he was a Teamster, but he was also a childhood friend of the owner of the company he worked for, so he had more freedom and responsibility than most of the men who worked at Food Center Wholesale Grocers in Charlestown MA. He mostly worked in the warehouse, but sometimes when they were short of drivers, Dad would drive a semi. One Spring day when I was in the third grade, as Nigel is now, we had just finished lunch in Mrs. Day's class when a huge semi with a bright red Mack tractor pulled into the driveway and stopped right in front of the window to our class. Dad knew my class faced the semi-circular driveway in front of the school. A few minutes later, Dad walked into the class in work clothes and asked Mrs. Day if I could go with him to New Hampshire. As well as I can remember, Mrs. Day consented, if for no other reason than to get the truck out of the driveway and the rest of the class back in their seats.

Did I mention Dad drove into the driveway so that the passenger side of the truck was facing the school. Everybody got to see me climb into the cab of the red B-67 Mack tractor. Status for grownups can be very complicated, but Mack trucks with 40-foot van trailers are as cool as it gets for 8-year-old boys.

B-67 Mack Tractor

Schedule Change One

This change is good. We just got an email saying we report for duty on January 29, but we do not yet have a departure date. So unless something changes, we will be at our drill hall until 5pm on the 29th, then soldiers (like me) who live within 60 miles can go home for the night. The next day we have a morning formation, work until 2pm, then go pick up our families for the going away ceremony. After the ceremony and dinner, we go home again and report for the day on the 31st. Right now, we go home again on the 31st. I'll be home on February 1. We may leave that day for our US training base, but if we don't I may be home watching the Superbowl with Nigel.