Last week I met with the NCOIC of administration in our battalion, SFC Lori Burns. She looked at my pay statements from the 80s and forwarded them to division HQ to see if there is any way I can stay long enough to retire. I know I will have to stay another five years of so, the question is will five more years bring me close enough to 20 years to get me a real retirement?
I have a friend at Church, Ethan Demme, who knows everybody in Lancaster Country politics. He said he can put me in touch with my US Congressman, Joe Pitts. My wife knows our state representative, Mike Sturla. I could need help from state and federal representatives if I hit one of the paper walls any big bureaucracy can set up.
Lucky for me, an old guy who wants to stay in the Army longer (and is healthy) should be one of the projects representatives actually have fun doing. Many requests for their help come from people who are neck deep in a cesspool and need a real strong pull to get out--not to mention help with clean up afterwards!
I have read memoirs of people my age, back when 57 was really old, who said they believed what they saw in the mirror--a face that obviously belongs to a person nearing 60, but behind their eyes, the person looking at the mirror does not seem like a different person than the 17-year-old who looked in the mirror hoping he would get older so his zits would clear up.
After I met with Lori Burns, I talked to Captain Mike Gross, our battalion operations officer. He was not with us in Iraq. We talked about the newsletter. He asked whether I "just wanted to be the guy with the camera" or if I wanted to work in my MOS to advance my career. I said, "I'm 57 years old and have three college degrees. I'm not sure my skill (or lack of it) in generator and pump repair will make a lot of difference to my career." But he is right to ask. If I am not going to fix generators, I should let a generator mechanic have the sergeant slot.
We'll see what happens.
Veteran of four wars, four enlistments, four branches: Air Force, Army, Army Reserve, Army National Guard. I am both an AF (Air Force) veteran and as Veteran AF (As Fuck)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Thanksgiving Dinner
I know it’s a week late, but we had a great Thanksgiving. All the girls were home from college and among our guests were six political refugees from Bhutan. A family at our Church is involved with refugee resettlement and Lancaster. Pa. has several hundred refugees from various conflicts around the world. When they came to our house, I thought immediately they were from Nepal. It turns out there was a migration of Nepalese people to Bhutan several decades ago. The native Bhutanese since decided they did not want Nepalese and started an ethnic cleansing campaign.
Men from Nepal worked in the Green Beans Coffee Shop on Tallil Ali Air Base and at other shops I went to in Balad Air Base and in Kuwait. They are short and thin and don’t eat much. My wife cooked for 20 Americans which meant we had a lot of leftovers, even sending a lot of food home with our guests.
I am glad America is still a refuge for persecuted people like my own grandparents who escaped Russian pogroms more than a century ago.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
How I Would Have Died--If I Lived 100 Years Ago, Motorcycle Accident
On a Tuesday in June 1980 I ran from my desk at the Elizabethtown Chronicle to my 550 Suzuki motorcycle parked out back. I was running late for class on the second day of the summer trimester at Penn State's campus in Harrisburg, Pa. I could cover the 12-mile distance in 10 minutes, park close, run up the stairs and be on time.
It was mid morning and Route 230 was clear of traffic. I went over the hill and down into an S turn, which was followed by a flat stretch for three miles. In the middle of taking the S at 75 mph (speed limit 55mph) the handlebars started a rapid, back and forth wobble called a “tank slapper” by motorcyclists. I have long arms and had once overcome the wobble by snapping my arms straight.
My snap must have been off that day. The front wheel grabbed the pavement while turned all the way to the right. The bike launched into the air, back wheel first. The bike and I flipped and rolled across the center of the road and into the ditch nearly 100 yards away.
I felt no pain. It was a beautiful summer morning. At first, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Then I looked down. I was on my back and covered in dirt and blood. I'd crashed in front of a house that was being painted. One of the painters ran up and asked if I was okay. He covered me with a drop cloth and yelled for someone to call an ambulance. In the narrow clarity of shock, I told the painter I needed to get up and walk around or I would be stiff in the morning. He said, “You just stay where you are, son. Help is coming.”
After the flip, I hit face down on the road. The main impact points were knees and face. I suppose because of my boots, both knees hit on the left side and the road scraped away so much skin that I could see the ligaments. I did not see my helmet until after my two-week hospital stay, but the full-coverage helmet had grooves scraped in the chin bar and above the visor. After surgery on both knees and some very painful rehab, I was released from the hospital two weeks later and went back to class. I got good marks and sympathy, since I returned in a lot of bandages.
Readers might protest that I would not have died 100 years ago because I could not have gone that fast on two wheels. But bicycles and motorcycles have been the fast track to injury and death since they were invented. The physics are terrible—moving at high speed while perched on top of a vehicle that tends to flip when unbalanced. Bicycle racing was very popular at the turn of the 20th century. Racers were maimed and killed riding more than 40 mph on steeply banked board tracks. One of the more gruesome injuries came when a crashing rider was impaled by a long splinter. Indian started making motor-cycles in 1901; Harley-Davidson in 1903. By 1910 motorcycle racing was turning into a major attraction at state fairs. Helmets were as crude as the motorcycles. Injuries were terrible.
I'm alive to write about this accident because I had the good fortune not to hit anything solid on my high speed flips through the air. If I had hit an on-coming car or a tree or a curb at 75 mph my story would be over. Also, without the full-coverage helmet, landing face first would have killed me or made me wish I was dead. People who ride motorcycles without helmets or with those ludicrous “brain bucket” helmets should at least make sure they are signed up as organ donors before they ride.
The full-coverage helmet with all of the polymer technology inside and outside is the main reason I survived the crash. Rapid-response ambulance transport, effective treatment for shock and infection, and follow-up care kept me from the fate of riders who once rode without modern medicine.
http://www.chemheritage.org/community/periodic-tabloid/2010-12-03-how-i-would-died-motorcycle.aspx?
Friday, December 3, 2010
Thanksgiving Morning
Some of you may remember that I had an article published on the New York Times “At War” blog last year about a bike/run race I organized Iraq. It was on Thanksgiving morning, just like the annual Turkey Day Race here in Lancaster. This year I definitely wanted to go, even though the only chance I had of winning was freezing rain or snow. I left my house early figuring I would be dropped on the first lap and ride home. The race distance is six laps of the 3.3-mile triangular circle where there is a Wednesday night training race from April till October.
Two days ago I wrote to Keith Wilson, the keeper of the Turkey Day records, on Facebook. He said I am the winner and I get the prize--a can of Yams!!!!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Changing Workouts
Ten days ago as I got up to leave Church I had a huge pain in my right knee. I had ridden to Church on my folding bike and planned walk home with my family. I rode home slowly since I would get to coast part way. My knee was swollen and sore. I tired to do the Sunday ride, but only rode the three miles to the start and turned around. I went to the doctor the next day. No knee damage he could see, my lack of stretching just caught up to me and pulled a tendon called the IT band on the outside of my right leg. The doctor put me on physical therapy with my old friends at Lancaster Orthopedic Group. I was back to riding and running in two days.
But I have actually been stretching since and will have to keep it up. In the last three months I have been riding less and running more. In fact, it is likely I will have fewer miles on the bike this year that last year. I’ll have to ride almost 600 miles in December to match the 7133 miles I rode last year—mostly in Iraq.
It’s not that I don’t want to ride, but I have been working longer hours which makes it more difficult to ride with just nine hours of daylight. And I have been running more—just over 60 miles each of the last three months. And I have been at the gym more consistently, so in October, I did the most pushups (1115) and situps (1403) I have ever done in a month and it looks like 2010 will be the year I do more pushups, situps and pull-ups than I have ever done in a year.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Next 2-104th Newsletter
I just sent the latest newsletter to the training NCOs in the battalion for distribution. It’s eight pages mostly of pictures. In the next issue I will catch up with pictures I did not publish from Echo Company’s refueling operation in September and the pistol, rifle and machine gun ranges in October. If you want a whole copy, send me an email at ngussman@gmail.com
Friday, November 26, 2010
New "How I Would Have Died" post
Today's post in my new series about how I would have died if I lived 100 years ago: http://www.chemheritage.org/community/periodic-tabloid/2010-11-26-how-i-would-have-died.aspx
I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving--or just a good Thursday if you live in another country.
I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving--or just a good Thursday if you live in another country.
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