Three Blackhawks Bringing Troops Home

We are just about to take off on a three-ship Blackhawk mission to pick up troops in a wooded training area. The doors are shut, so I can't take good pictures till we land and open the doors. I want to get video of the infantry boarding the aircraft. They will enter on the right side with 80 pounds of gear each--and no storage for carry-ons!!! I will have a couple of minutes to get pictures before I get squeezed against the door by the passengers.

Waiting to take off

On board on CH-47 Chinook on Muir Filed at Fort Indiantown Gap. Waiting to take off. We are flying to a training site. If all goes well, there will be an aircraft refueling site and aerial gunnery training.

Still Sore--and Can't Run for a While

Yesterday I went to the Lancaster Orthopedic Group, one of the places that has been repairing me from running and riding injuries for the last couple of decades.  The first team I raced for in the 90s had LOG as its main sponsor.  We made jokes about being great customers.  But actually, we were.

This visit was about my right knee.  It gets very painful when I sit with my leg bent.  And since I may be flying a very long way in a very cramped airplane, I thought I should get it checked out.  The doctor said my knee wasn't as bad as he expected and if I stop running and do physical therapy it should be fine.  I do not need an operation any time soon.

That was a pleasant surprise.

And I love Physical Therapy, especially at LOG.  Joe and Gretchen are the therapists I have been going to for the last several years.  They rehabilitated my shoulder after surgery five years ago and have helped me with minor hand and knee trouble before.

Every time I have PT I learn something about how my body works and how it recovers.  If the injury means I can get PT, I am happy.

Speaking of injury, my neck still hurts from the recent army training.  If it still hurts Tuesday, I will ask Joe for help with neck recovery also.

On days like these, I am very sure I am NOT a 20-year-old.

Judgmental Bastard--the Transition Back to Civilian Life

Three weeks in Army culture changes me.  The longer I am in the National Guard, the faster and more thoroughly I can change from seeing the world through civilian eyes, to seeing through olive-drab-colored glasses.

On the last day of training we were cleaning the barracks.  After the inside of the barracks was shined and polished I told three enlisted men to join me in Police Call--picking up trash--mostly cigarette butts--around the barracks.  One of the soldiers protested that he was willing to pick up trash but not cigarette butts.  I was ten feet away.  After a moment's hesitation in which I tilted my head and looked to see if he was joking, I yelled, "I am not taking an opinion poll.  Pick up everything."

In Army training we show up on time, line up for chow and wait for leaders to make up or change their minds.  And when we judge each other, it is on competence.  Everyone knows who can shoot, wrench, run, communicate or spit best, because we spend so much time together watching and judging each other.

And then I come home.

Home is fine.  My wife insists on being on time, and is strict with our kids.

But then I leave home.

On Sunday a couple that I ride with invited to go with them on a 50-mile group ride.  I met them at 1250 and rode with them to the place where we were meeting the rest of the riders.  We rolled up at 1258 for a 1pm start.

One of the three riders was ready to go.  Another was changing and his bike was still in his van.  The third just discovered he had a flat.  Really?  Is air in your tires is optional?

It was already 93 degrees and getting warmer.

We waited 7 minutes for the guy who was still getting ready, while the guy who was ready told us what an awesome climber he is.  The guy with the flat drove a few miles up the road to change the tire.  We rode to meet him.  We waited ten more minutes for him to finish changing the tire (a five minute job for someone who knows what to do).


Five miles into the ride, Bruce said, "I thought you told me you were tired.  You rode hard up the last two hills." I explained that I was riding on adrenaline.  I got angry waiting for the guy who was folding his shorts, the guy who was changing his tire, and then I need to beat the guy uphill who introduced himself as an amazing climber.

Sixteen miles into the ride, the two guys we waited for turned back.  Too hot.

Eight miles later we got to Nissley Vineyards--the turnaround point.  There was some water.  I got half a bottle.  Our leader--Mr. Climber--said we were going to Elizabethtown.  OK.  I can ride six miles on spit.

Except he made a wrong turn.  I followed and suddenly we were headed for Mount Joy.  Two of us had no water.

I rode to a Turkey Hill store.  Got hydrated.  Then we rode back on my route--not the route suggested by Mr. Climber.

I told Bruce that the Army really enhances my already strong tendency to be a Judgmental Bastard.  That got me through a 55 mile ride on a 95-degree day at a respectable speed, but it is not a good way to live.

Hopefully I can chill out before I have to go back to the Army again.

AT Day 22, the Last Day, Barracks Cleaning, Final Paperwork

This morning I woke up for the final time in Barracks 4-84, my home for most of the last three weeks.  I took the bunk in the northwest corner of the barracks, so there is just a wall on one side of my bunk and the affable mechanic Angel Matias on the other side.  I woke at 0600 this morning.  Most of this week I have been sleeping in until a late and luxuriant 0630, but this morning I wanted to be sure to get all my stuff out of the barracks before the cleaning party began.

Matias is always the last one up in the morning.  He also goes to bed later than I do--and I usually go to bed around midnight.  So at 0600 Matias was in his sleeping bag sound asleep.  I was dressed, shaved and carrying my bedding out the door before Matias got out of bed, but he was ready at 0715 when we went to breakfast.

They cleared out all the remaining food for breakfast this morning--eggs, English muffins, sausage gravy, bacon, fruit, and cereal.

At 0815 we were back at the barracks and cleaning.  Four soldiers mopped and swept the main room, I took two enlisted men with me to clean the latrine.  I brought toilet cleaner from home so we would be able to leave the very clean looking blue water in the bowl--making it evident we really cleaned the latrine.  The other two soldiers cleaned the sinks and the showers.  I cleaned the toilets.  A third group walked around the building picking up trash--Police Call in Army language.

We waited an hour for the inspector then found out the barracks floor had to be waxed.  We waxed the floor and sent most of the group to the armory in case they were any final details to tie up.  With the barracks inspected, two of us went to the armory for additional paperwork and everyone else left.  I have other meetings because my duties are evolving faster than bacteria with a new food supply.

But I will be home for dinner tonight!!!

AT Day 21, First Fueling Experience

Since August of 2007 when I came back in the Army, I have been in Echo Company of 2-104th Aviation.  Echo has all the fuelers, but in almost five years,today was the first time I fueled an aircraft myself.  It was "Cold" fuel: that is when the helicopters engines are shut down.  The other option is hot fuel--the NASCAR pit stop style of fueling where the aircraft is fueled while the blades are turning.  As soon as fueling is completed, the aircraft takes off.  

Here is a photo of two Chinooks getting hot fuel at Schuykill County Airport

And a short video of a Blackhawk being fueled

AT Day 16, Low Crawl, High Crawl, Make Your Own Mud

Today we went through the fire and maneuver course.  Here is the 17 soldiers I train with before we started crawling.

We first learned how to search a car, how to handle a prisoner and how to run a check point.  When we went through the fire and maneuver course the ground was dry dust, but it was afternoon and 90 degrees.  By the time I had low crawled (flat on the ground, face in the dirt) and high crawled (head up) through the dust, most of us had mud on the front of our shirts.  The sweat soaked through our shirts and made mud.

Days like this clearly show me the difference between being in shape and being a 20 year old.  I can run, ride and do the PT test exercises very well because that's what I practice.  Fire and maneuver and crawling through the dirt uses different muscles and a lot of sprinting.  I was really breathing hard at different points in the exercise.  I could tell I would be sore the next day.  The 20 year olds, even those in not-so-good shape recover a lot better.