On the Roller Coaster

Late yesterday I talked to the sergeant in charge (NCOIC) our the battalion admin section.  She dropped the likelihood of me going to Afghanistan from 70% to 30%.  The problems are technical but real in the sense that if there is not an open slot, I can't fill it.  She (the NCOIC) said a lot of people are still trying to figure out a way I can go, but her 20-year experience in Army paperwork says what every soldier knows:  paperwork is reality.  Before I can get aboard the long flight, all the paperwork will be right or I won't go.

My wife said she is going to plan for the deployment no matter what anyone says.  She said if someone definitely tells me "No" she will consider that maybe, but if someone definitely says "Yes" then I am going.  She is a smart woman.  And she knows how determined our sergeant major is.  So while I ride the roller coaster--at least in the emotional sense--she will wait.  She said, "I will know you aren't going when the plane leaves and you are here."

Of all the books I have read about the military, the one that best describes paperwork is Catch 22 by Joseph Heller.  If you haven't read and you like black humor, it's the best book of its kind I have read.

Next post I will tell you why I am a PA resident and a Penn State graduate and how Army paperwork made that happen.

Up and Down the Chain of Command

Those of you who read this blog while I was in Iraq will remember that my move from the motor pool to battalion headquarters came when Command Sergeant Major Christine came to me and said, "Do you want to do the newsletter full time?"  I said I did.  Next day I was in the Battalion HQ.

On Saturday (see yesterday's post) the CSM had a plan. On Sunday it went from idea to plans and reality.  At 8am I was on a Chinook flying to Boalsburg to take pictures at the annual 28th Division Memorial Day Celebration.  This year Gov. Tom Corbett was the speaker.  If you are curious, 147 photos here.

The Battalion Commander flew the Governor and The Adjutant General to the ceremony in a Blackhawk.  While the BC was waiting to take off we had a chance to talk about the deployment.  He and the CSM had talked and he would do his best to make it happen.

His aircraft was the first to take off from the ceremony.  The Chinook I was riding in left an hour later.  When we got back, I walked through the flight facility--they have the best coffee within ten miles of Fort Indiantown Gap.  One of the pilots saw me and said, "You're going Dude."  When I got back to the armory, the admin officer and NCO both said "We're going to find you a slot."

I walked outside with the CSM.  He said, "Tell your family.  You're going."

Going to Afghanistan

After Saturday's drill the Sergeant Major laid out for me how I could go on the deployment and spend time with each of the three Aviation units going.  "Keep a rucksack packed and fly from place to place" is the plan.  All three units form a task force, so I would just have to be sure I was part of the troop count in each location:  The BOG report or Boots on Ground.

He asked if I was ready to go and wanted to go. I said I was.  He said he would clear it with the commander.  That's the topic of the next post.

Wow.

In the morning of this drill day, I got to fire an M240B door gun on a 300-800 meter pop-up target range.  My spotter, Staff Sergeant Blake Andrews, said he thought I knocked down the 800-meter target.  I definitely hit the 600-meter target.  Lots of fun!!!!  Here's a video of another soldier firing, Sgt. Mike Machinist, a Chinook flight engineer.

Twas the Night Before Basic. . .

. . .and in a Kenmore Square bar,

I drank way too much

And Frank drove my car.

This long-haired drunk smoking a cigarette is me, just forty years and a few months ago.  I've been so focused on getting an extension to stay in the Army, I forgot that Feb 1 was the 40th anniversary of my initial enlistment.

On that auspicious evening, my best friend Frank Capuano, my sister Jean and others I cannot remember took me to a basement bar in Kenmore Square, Boston, for pitchers of beer before I left for basic.  In Boston in 1972, 3.2% beer was legal for 18 year olds.  

So we drove to Boston and I drank way too much--something that has always been easy for me.  I can get drunk on three beers.  I got really drunk.  Enough that I fell off my chair onto the sawdust-covered floor.  One of the bouncers decided I had enough and carried me up the stairs over his shoulder.  The bouncers wore vertical-stripe red and white shirts.  Looking at the shirt and bouncing caused me to throw up on the bouncer.  He tossed me into the alley.  

I was up at 6am to go to Logan Airport for the flight to basic.  Not a great beginning.  But it turned out OK.

By the way, we tried to get in the Ratskellar across the street.  Aerosmith--a local bar band at the time, was playing at the Rat.  But they wouldn't let us in.  So we settled for K-K-Katy's.

Thanks to Everyone Who Voted

"Home from Iraq" is a finalist for the 6th Annual Milbloggie Awards this weekend in at the Military Blogging Conference Alexandria VA. I won't be able to attend because I have a big weekend with the boys.  

Now that I got the extension, I guess I can enter the contest for two more years.

Thanks to all of you who voted, especially to Kappa Alpha Theta Sorority at the University of Richmond--my daughter Lisa is a member and asked her sisters to vote for her Dad.

 

Veteran Event at Richmond Intl. Raceway

My sons and I went to a veteran event at Richmond Intl. Raceway.  We got to see a great race, meet drivers, and eat lots of food.  The event was courtesy of driver Brad Keselowski.  Report is here.

Planning for a Very Odd Future

Now that my extension through May 2015 is all done except the confirmation paperwork, I can start making more concrete plans about the future.

Or not.

I will be 62 in May of 2015 and hope to spend part of the 2015-2016 academic year in Rwanda with my wife and three or four sons.  I want them to live in a black-majority culture to experience how different that is--especially for their white parents.  And Rwanda has the advantages of being among the poorest and at the same time most bicycle crazy countries on the planet.  The country is healing from the mid-90s genocide through both sides--Hutus and Tutsis--cheering for the national bicycle racing team and their international bike race, The Tour of Rwanda.

If all goes well, we will go there for a semester.  My wife will lecture on math at the University of Kigali, my sons will do there best to attend high school Kigali, the capital, and I will teach English as a Second Language with a definite emphasis on bicycle vocabulary.  Rwanda has great roads that are keep smooth from lack of heavy vehicle traffic.  Thousands of young men build their racing muscles dragging heavy loads behind and on their bicycles.  For these young men to become racers they have to be literate and learn both the bike and the complex tactics of racing.  Hopefully, I can help.

If it turns out I go to Afghanistan before I get out, I will have just that much more experience in a poor culture.

Since I will be some form of retired by then, it is good to know that the cost of living in Rwanda is very low.