Promotion Yes--PT Test No

This morning at 0800 formation two of us got promoted to sergeant. That was the good news. Just before formation, I found out there would be no PT Test today. That was the bad news. At the end of the formation, our First Sergeant announced he is retiring. But overall, it was a great day. Since I went back, a lot of people have asked me what my rank is. I had to explain that Specialist is a rank between private soldiers and sergeants. Their eyes would glaze about four words in. But Sergeant they can understand. Sgt. Rock, Sgt. Fury, Sgt. Bilko, Sgt. Schultze, whoever. A sergeant wears a uniform and is in charge of some people. For the many civilians who don't have a clue about military rank, a sergeant is something like a captain or a colonel or a general or an admiral. They are all people who wear uniforms and are in charge of people.

On Sunday afternoon there will be a change of command ceremony. I am in charge of the usher detail. My four soldiers will lead people to their seats. I won't be one of the generals in the front-row seats, but I will be a soldier in a uniform who is in charge of people.

I'll post a picture of my daughter pinning on the stripes in a few days.

Beijing Food

The Olympics are starting tomorrow. Some friends reminded me of what those attending could be eating. From 1998 to 2000 I traveled overseas every month to every continent except Africa. On my first trip to Beijing, I flew direct from Detroit, leaving at 1230 and arriving at 1330 the next day after a 13-hour flight. I went to work then the local rep took us to dinner at the Peking Duck restaurant in Beijing. We began dinner with a Lazy Susan with every part of the duck cooked separately. I ate liver, gizzard, duck tongue and cow face soup, etc until the feet came around to me. I was next to an Australian who said he loved this stuff and ate feet with gusto. Next to the feet were scorpions. I skipped the feet unnoticed because I ate two big scorpions hoping they would be like crawfish. They were. I was fine.

But we had rice wine with dinner and by the time I collapsed in my bed in my clothes near midnight I had been up for 36 hours. At 3 am I woke up because I heard a man yelling—it was me. I was soaked with sweat and convinced those two scorpions had reassembled themselves and were marching up my throat to kill me.

I actually liked the scorpions, but have not eaten them since.

A Bike for Iraq

I asked my local Bike Line shop about getting wheels that would stand up to sand. Instead they showed me a bike on close-out that costs less than a pair of good wheels and will be a great bike for Iraq. It's a Trek T1 track bike, one speed, huge chain, no gear changing. It's the kind of bike people ride in Velodromes, (the indoor bike race tracks with 42-degree banked turns you'll see in the Olympics next week) and on beach vacations because they need so little maintenance. When we are in Iraq there is a chance I will be able to ride a bike inside the wire at the air base. If so, this is the bike.

A Sex Book for my Daughters

Last week I read a new book by the science writer for the Philadelphia Inquirer called The Score: How the Quest for Sex Has Shaped the Modern Man by Faye Flam.
The next day I ordered a second copy so each of my daughters could have one. They are 17 and 19 one in college and one on the way. They each have boyfriends who are good guys--I have met them and liked them. But I am going to be gone next year and this book is an entertaining look at the biology that led to males and females from dividing amoebas and how that biology helped to make guys what they are today--for better and for worse. The recurring theme in the book is Flam talking about a seminar she attended in New York where men pay $2150 for a 9-step program on how to pick up women. From flatworms to giant squids to gorillas, we see males fighting to mate with females, but not staying around to set up household. The book alternates between science and mating rituals among modern humans. The book is definitely for readers as interested in learning about science as about sex, but for that kind of reader the book is a lot of fun.

Extra Drill Weekend

I volunteered for an extra drill weekend on August 23-24. I am going to learn how to load and drive an ammo truck. The unit needed volunteers and it seemed like a good thing for me to know how to do safely. A lot of ammo gets moved around an air base getting helicopters ready for missions, and it seemed like one of those jobs for which there are never enough people properly trained.

PT Test in One Week

Unless the schedule changes, I will be taking the PT Test next Friday right after morning formation. Because I work out regularly, many people assume the test will be easy. It's not. In fact, I changed my workout schedule a lot since I joined. It's not that I am worried about passing, but if things go well next week, I have a good change of scoring 290 out of 300, or maybe even 300. To do that, I work out an average of two hours a day. In July that meant walking 94 miles--about half of that with a 25-pound pack; running 54 miles, usually 2.5 to 3 miles at a time; 440 miles on the bike, 960 pushups, 798 situps, 218 pull ups, 7 hours in the gym and three hours of yoga. To score 300 I need to do 56 pushups and 66 situps in 2 minutes each and run two miles in 14:42. To pass I need 21 pushups, 31 situps and 19:30 on the run.
I won't do any exercise next Wednesday and Thursday.
Want to see what the standards are for you? Click here.

Are you going to miss your family?

I get that question at least weekly, often from very earnest people who must think I have not considered that getting deployed might involve being separated from the people I love. With 181 days to go till we go on active duty, and at least 35 of those days in training, I do think about being separated from my family--a lot.
Our motor officer has been deployed twice--once with 48 hours notice, once with almost a year's notice. He prefers 48 hours. "You don't have to keep thinking about it," he said. "Just pack your shit and go." Our motor officer is a warrant officer, the rank between enlisted soldiers (like me) and commissioned officers (captains and generals and so forth). Warrant officers are like consultants in the business world--experts, but not managers. So people turn to them for advice about everything--in the same way kids expect teachers to know everything.
In this case, I'll disagree with Mr. Consultant. (Male Warrant Officers are called Mister as opposed to Sir for commissioned officers.) I like having time to spend with my friends and family, to get things in order at home and at work before I go, and I like being aware of the clock ticking.