Road March

This morning we were up at 0345 to get ready for a five-mile road march at 0430. For the march we wore our Kevlar vests and helmets and carried our weapons, about 35 pounds of gear including Camelbacks. The march was so fast I entered it in my exercise spreadsheet as a 1-mile jog and a 4-mile walk. I spent a lot of time on the downhills at a slow run closing up the gaps that formed as the leaders strode along at the highest pace they could step out.

After the march my heel hurt enough that I limped and did my ankle exercises every time I stood still the rest of the day. I got to ride 22 miles between 1630 and 1800 (430 and 6 pm) which made my ankle feel a lot better.

The best part of the march by far was that everyone finished. When we run, we break up into three ability groups and those groups splinter in the first half mile. But with the road march some people moved up, some dropped back, but we regrouped twice and everyone finished. Some finished a few minutes after, but everyone was there at the end. It was a big confidence builder for the people who usually get dropped on the runs. It was worth limping for a day.

Three Weeks of Remedial PT

Tonight marks the third week I have been leading Remedial PT. Each Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evening at 7pm, I lead the fitness training for those who failed one or more of the three events of their last PT test. The test is pushups, sit ups and a two-mile run. Of the 20+ soldiers in my group, most failed the run or the run plus one or two other events. Only two soldiers failed just situps, and no one in my group just failed the pushups.

The good news for those who get back up to speed on the run is that fixing the run almost always leads to better performance on the other two. And I already have two graduates. Two soldiers who were too slow on the run on their last PT test, ran two miles under their required time and now they don't have to show up for my formation.

But for the others, three weeks is a big deal. Most of the soldiers in remedial do not have a habit of fitness training. Most organizing or exercising gurus say if you can keep a habit for three weeks, you can potentially keep it for a lifetime. On the negative side, that's probably the same threshold for smoking or other bad habits.

So the remedial PT soldiers are getting better and they are on the way to changing their habits. I was talking to one of the soldiers today and had a Dostoevsky moment. I told him I was here partly because of wanting to do good and never getting around to actually doing it. We agreed that pretty much everybody on this deployment wants to do good in some way and also wants to clean up some part of their lives: money, fitness, weight, whatever. Dostoevsky says there is a spark of God in all of us, but we need to fan it into a flame.

Sergeant Rock and Sergeant Rumpled

The military will never be the flat organization business gurus say is the future of management. We have rank, structure and a chain of command. And alongside the official chain of command (Tolstoy is great on this subject in War and Peace) is the unofficial hierarchy. We have a hierarchy in everything: the best marksman, the fastest runner, the best at drill and ceremonies, the strongest, the best sprinter, who can fart the loudest or belch the longest. Because we live so close together, everyone knows these hierarchies.


Just as we all know the best at everything, we all know the worst. Not only does everyone know who has the highest PT scores, they know who has the lowest. Some are great at one thing and bad at others. Some are good at several things. But there is always one who is the all-around best at everything and his direct opposite: Sgt Rock and Sgt Rumpled.

Our unit is the same. We have people who max the PT test, but are just OK on the range or marching troops, or leading a field exercise. We have expert marksmen who barely pass the fitness test. And people who are great at drill and ceremonies that can't shoot very well or run. But Sgt Rock can do everything, if not the best, in the top 10% in every category. Sgt Rumpled can do almost nothing except show up when he is supposed to. That's how he hangs on. He does what he is told, complains when he can get away with it and lingers on hoping to get to retirement. In fact, my first time around there was an acronym everyone used: LIFER (Lazy Inefficient F#$kup Expecting Retirement). I haven't heard the acronym here and don't want to be the one to bring it back, but it applies to Sgt Rumpled. He looks unwashed and ragged even when he puts on a new uniform. He can't lead or shoot and has the worst PT score in the company.

Not surprisingly, he also thinks himself nearly a sage as far as technical competence, but his supervisors will not give him any job they cannot check, because he is also a bad mechanic.

Rock and Rumpled are also opposites in personality. Rock makes self-deprecating jokes and is cheerful with almost everyone. Rumpled only makes jokes at another soldier's expense.

Every unit I have been in over the years has had both of these guys. I wish I knew if it was the nature of the Army or I have just been in units with the best and the worst the Army can put in one place.

Same Day Bike Repair Service

This morning I rode the chaplain's bike the half-mile to his office using the Fred Flintstone propulsion system--my left foot pushing the road like a kid on a scooter. He had the bike by 0900. He said he was going to check and see if he could get it fixed. At 3:30 in the afternoon he called to say I could pick the bike up TODAY. The shop rethreaded the pedal mountings and put on my racing pedals. I could not get the bike from him yesterday, but will pick it up at 0800 tomorrow before formation.

I Missed This Formation Last Week, But Not Very Much

Last week when I was learning how to do the paperwork for the drug test, I missed a formation in which our commander reminded everyone present that they must always take their weapon to the chow hall--unless they are on an assignment where weapons are not allowed. My class was one of the leave your weapon kind. So I did not join the other hundred or so men and women who did forty pushups in cadence (or as many as they could).

I have a photo someone emailed to me, but I cannot get Blogger to upload it. I'll ask someone who is better than I am with photos to see if they can fix it.

I hope they looked as happier than these guys.

Communion and the Lack Thereof

This morning in the Anthrax Chapel we had a communion service. It is the first Sunday in Lent and our first communion service in our mobilization training. One of the lieutenants plays the guitar at our services and the music was especially good this morning.

So now it's 9pm (2100), we have to get up at 0450 for PT at 0520. It will be 21 degrees with a 10 mph wind. We got a new roommate so there are now four of us in the room. In the Army of the 1970s, we would all be trying to go to sleep and bitching about PT in the cold and asking why we have to get up so early and complaining in general. But our room is almost silent. I am typing. Another guy is taking to his family on a vid phone on his computer, but he has his headphones on so we only hear when he talks. The other two guys are surfing the net or doing something else that makes no more sound than a mouse click.

None of us is talking to each other. We are four individuals on laptops. But at 0500 we will be bitching together, then at 0520 we will be freezing together, so we do have more interaction than most people.

Tried Out the Chaplain's Bike and Broke It!

I rode the chaplain's bike today to try it out. I was going to change to my pedals--Shimano Dura Ace for those who wonder what kind--and noticed the pedals on the chaplain's Cannondale R400 were on crooked. He said his daughter rode the bike so I thought I should try to ride it as is. Bad decision. The pedals actually were stripped and on of them came off. So one week before the race my one-speed bike will be gone before the end of the week and my borrowed bike has one pedal.

I told some of my friends the position I was was in. There advice: (paraphrased) "Gussman you are [screwed]."

I called the chaplain and he couldn't have been nicer. Although I offered to pay for a new set of cranks, he said his son put the pedals on crooked and he will try to get the bike fixed for next Sunday. So despite the stripped pedals, I may still be able to race. I guess if the bike can't be fixed I can try to rent one from the one bike shop in Lawton. Otherwise, I can only ride the clown bike. And the shifter is broken on it, so I don't think I'll do very well on a one-speed clown bike.

Stay tuned.