Integrated Life, or Not

A few days ago I was talking to Anna.  She is a museum director and a mother of two sons, ages 16 and 20.  We talk occasionally about kids and being parents.  We were talking about Chalid and  how sad the whole situation is.  Anna read my wife's blog posts on Chalid and how my wife strives for integrity, including integrating all the parts of her complicated life.  I made an an off-hand remark about admiring that quality in her and not being close to emulating it.

Anna said, "Well, of course.  You are a man, she is a woman.  She will try to tie her life together.  You won't."

OK then.

She is right.  I sometimes imagine that when I retire from full-time work and am out of the Army that I will be able to integrate the pieces of my life.

But then again maybe not.

The workaholics were in Heaven in Iraq.  They worked for weeks without a day off.  No family, no household chores, no birthdays, no anniversaries.  Life was work--life was happy.

I am reading a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor who stood up against Hitler and was killed by the Nazis.  His life shows one way a man can have a fully integrated life.  He spoke against Hitler almost from the day Der Fuhrer took power and devoted his life from then on to protecting the Church in Germany against the Nazis.  Bonhoeffer integrated all of his life by having a single focus and bringing everything else he did in line with that goal.

Bonhoeffer certainly is a model for how a guy can live an integrated life.

By the way:

• I am writing this post on the train to work where I read or catch up on my blog.  This is the solitude part of my life.
• When I get to work I have many tasks that will promote the museum where I work.
• When I get home tonight, I will be a spouse:  my wife is hosting 25 freshmen for dinner, classes start next week.
• Toward then end of dinner I will switch from spouse to Dad and take the boys away from dinner and do something with them for a while.
• After dinner, I will send the boys upstairs with the iPods they get only in the evening while Annalisa and I watch "Mad Men."
• Tomorrow morning I will go on a 40-mile ride and from the time I leave the house, pretty much focus on riding.

I'll still be a disintegrated mess when I retire, but at least it will be closer to home.

Update on Chalid

My wife's blog post today on Miser Mom well describes all the drama we have been going through since our foster son left our home in handcuffs in a police car.

If you want an update, read her post.

Are You Going, Neil?

I changed the title of my blog.  I am definitely staying in the Army as long as I can, but the odds of my deployment are dwindling.  At last drill the commander revised the deadline for the waiver to September 1.

As to what other people think:  The admin NCO in our battalion cannot see any reason they would approve the waiver.  Nobody knows me in the Pentagon and, more importantly, it's not like I have any unique skills.  I would be going as a fueler or a ground mechanic.  Either way, I am replaceable by 20-year-olds who need no waivers.  But she does think I am likely to go.  Because she has worked for Command Sergeant Major Christine for a long time and believes he gets whatever he really wants.

My wife thinks I lead a charmed life and if I want to go, I will go.  I was laughing out loud when she said it, because most people would not consider going to Afghanistan the indication of a charmed life.  I have been hearing lately from people who think the same.  The editor of the magazine where I work said she thinks I will find some way to go.  Two other friends at work think the same--and want me to back out.  They think Afghanistan is going bad fast.  I work at a place with real historians on staff.  One of them even studies Middle Eastern early science.  They all think we are about to get the same treatment as the Russians, the British and everyone else who tried to fix Afghanistan.

One editor friend visiting from Washington was very direct, both about the Afghanistan trip and the recent trouble we had with the teenage boy we were going to adopt.  "You and your wife have done enough," she said.  "Take care of the kids you have.  You don't have to take in any more."  Later on the subject of deploying she said, "We'll I'm glad you're not going.  You should stay here."

I did not tell here our adoption of Xavier from Haiti just passed one of many paperwork hurdles.

Life remains interesting!

Mountain Crawl Run

On Sunday morning almost 100 soldiers in the 28th Combat Aviation Brigade (CAB) boarded buses and vans to do the first annual 28th CAB Mountain Crawl.  It's a 2.5 mile run from the fish hatchery on Fort Indiantown Gap up the mountain to the Hawk Sanctuary on post.  It climbs almost 700 feet most of the climb is the second mile which averages 13% and mostly dirt road.  The rest is rolling.

Group shot--first wave of runners.

I started running five minutes ahead of the group so I could take pictures of everyone finishing at the top.  The first six runners passed me on the way up including first finisher 1LT Brian Marquardt, 3rd LTC Joel Allmandinger and 4th SSG Matthew Kauffman.  I got pictures of them and the other fast folks at the top before they ran back down.

After taking about 40 photos at the top, I walked back down and snapped pictures of the rest of the runners in the second wave.

The last person to start up the hill was SFC Dale Shade on a mountain bike.  I saw him as he rode up then again as he flashed past on the way down.  We served together in Iraq.  When I got back to the start I asked him if I could ride his bike to the top.  He said "Sure."

It was soooooo much easier to ride up than to run.  And faster.  Especially coming back down.

On the SAW Range

Firing on the M249 Range (My best side!!!)

Part of this weekend's training--the best part--was a stop at the M249 SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) range.  I was there to take pictures, but when we arrived, the last group of firers were finished and the next ones had not arrived.

So I got to fire 200 rounds at the large panel targets that serve as both zero and qualification targets.  The training plan called for firing at one of the ranges with pop-up targets, but a last-minute change meant the firing would all be done on what is usually the zero range.

At Fort Sill in 2009, the day I spent on the full-scale SAW range was one of the best days I spent in pre-deployment training.  At Sill we had pop-up targets out to 400 meters.  Today we just had the 10-meter panel.  But the thrill of putting accurate automatic fire on target is the same.

SAW with 200-round ammo box

On the paper panel are lines of silhouettes just few centimeters are set in lines.  To qualify the gunner fires a three-round burst at each target in the lines, going across or down depending on the target.  One firm pull on the trigger puts three rounds down range.  The iron sights on the weapon make it easy to engage a series of targets.  I moved across from target 7 to 8 and down from 5 to 6 on two sections of the panel and hit every silhouette in the line.  It was a lot of fun.

As soon as I got in a comfortable firing position, I remembered how important it is to have elbow pads when firing this weapon in the prone position.  My right elbow ached from minute two until I was done firing.

Later in the day we went to the last range on the west end of Fort Indiantown Gap to watch M2 .50 caliber machine gun qualification firing.  The pop-up targets on that range go out to 1500 meters, just short of a mile.  I know from firing an M85 .50 cal on an M60A1 tank that these heavy machine guns can put accurate fire on a target at a mile distance.

I did not get a chance to shoot the M2, but I was watching the crews get ready for firing and thinking this weapon is exactly right for an old guy.  I can see the man-sized silhouette at a mile distance.  And if the weapon has a problem, all of the parts of an M2 are so big, I could work on the weapon without reading glasses if I needed to.  With the SAW and the M16/M4 the parts are so small I needed reading glasses to do anything more than clear a simple jammed cartridge.

Planning for Wildly Different Futures

In my mind, the time has passed to prepare for Afghanistan.  If I get the waiver I will go, but somewhere in the events of the last week, I now am planning for a future with no deployment.  It is  definite in my mind that I am not deploying.

Time to move on.  The first thing I did was sign up for the qualifying races for the National Senior Games in 2013 in Cleveland, July 20 - August 1.

Tomorrow Nigel and I will leave Lancaster by 9am and drive to Pittsburgh for the qualifying races.  There will be two races tomorrow and two Sunday.  I have to finish 1st - 4th place in just one of the races to qualify for Cleveland.  It would be easiest if I qualify tomorrow, but if not we can stay over and I can try again Sunday.

At work, I stopped making plans to transfer what I do to my co-workers.  I am now planning on being at work in 2013--and racing in Cleveland in July.

AOL Video--Intro by Marlo Thomas

And if you do not know who Marlo Thomas is, you are too young for this blog !!
Watch it here.

Packing Bags for Another Person

Last night I took three of the kids out for dinner.  While we were gone, we got a message asking us to get some of our son's clothes packed up.  We decided to pack everything.  Three black trash bags, a backpack and a lot of clothes on hangers wait by the door for someone to come and pick them up.

While we packed I did three loads of laundry to be sure everything was out of the laundry room.  As we cleaned out the drawers, one of my daughters found cell phone chargers and other things she was missing during the past few months.  We thought stealing was a bigger problem before the violence.  Now it seems very small by comparison.

It is always sad to pack for someone else.  In Germany in the 70s I helped to pack up the gear and personal effects of a soldier who went home in a hospital plane.  We were starting an M60A1 tank with slave cables (REALLY heavy duty jumper cables).  To slave start a tank, you either pull the tanks close side by side or nose to nose.  The slave cables drop into the drivers hatch in the hull and plug into a connector just below the hatch.

The second tank approached the first straight on from a slight.  The young soldier--I'll call him Ed--was up on the hull of the dead tank next to the driver's hatch.  As the second tank approached he dropped the cable--and decided to pick it.  He jumped off the side of the tank out of the way, but then went between the tanks to retrieve the cable rather than just pulling it up.  He did not know why.  No one else did.  In a confusing moment he stood up and got caught between the tanks.

His pelvis was broken.  He screamed.

A week later, several of us packed his things.

I thought of Ed when I was packing last night.

My wife and I insist our kids pack their own bags for trips--especially the trip home.  I just thought it was a good skill for them to have.  It was pretty clear last night I do not have good memories of packing for someone else.

My wife Annalisa wrote very well about the sad last day our foster son spent in our home.  http://miser-mom.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-child-who-left-our-home.html

Failure is an Option

I am waiting for a waiver to serve in a combat zone over 60.  This waiver, unlike the one to extend my enlistment, must be approved in Washington.  It could fail.

But as of last night my wife is more at peace about the deployment--whichever way the waiver  decision goes.  

Last night her biggest worry for the deployment left our house in handcuffs.  The 15-year-old boy we took in our house in April became more and more angry over the last two weeks and finally became so enraged over being caught in a lie that he had a fit that included breaking things with a hammer and threatening himself and the rest of our family.

He had a troubled past, but we were assured by his social worker in Lehigh Valley that he simply had bad breaks.  My wife and I thought we would try to give him the "forever home" he said he wanted.  

But a forever home has rules and it is tough to give up what we know for something else--even if it is better.  C.S. Lewis says that after a religious conversion the convert will often find his former desires fill his mind.  And even if the convert manages to keep the desires from taking over, the voice of desire inside "will be up on an elbow. . .whining."  

Failure is an option in taking a child into a family--whether by adoption or birth.  C.S. Lewis writes in another place (in the 1940s before TV) about how difficult it is to convince a child in poverty in the city to give up playing in a puddle in the slums to travel to the sea shore.  We were not able to convince our new son that living as part of a family was actually better than the life he left in foster care--20 different foster homes.

Failure is an option in the military.  Not all military missions succeed.  

Failure is an option in bicycle racing.  Over the last decade I have lost 20 bicycle races for each victory.  

Failure is an option in running races.  I won just one running race in my life and in that I won my age group.  

Today we will receive a stack of paperwork that must be resubmitted to the Haitian embassy for another child we are hoping to adopt.  We are very sure he will do well in America, but we have much less confidence in our ability to navigate the paperwork through the Haitian system.  Failure is an option here also.

Tonight my wife and I are going out to dinner to celebrate our 15th anniversary.  We have three grown daughters who are doing very well and three more kids at home who seem on track to do well also.  We both know that risk can mean reward and that risk can mean failure.   

We will be taking more risks together and separately--and moving forward with our very complicated and interesting lives.

AOL in MY House

Today a video crew from AOL on line is filming me and my family at my home in Lancaster.  Later today we will go to Fort Indiantown Gap so I can join in some training.  The training shots will be set up by SSG Matt Jones at the Public Affairs Office.  He and I served together in Iraq.  He was the PAO for 28th Aviation, but he got promoted and moved to an Infantry Brigade earlier this year.

When the video goes on line, I will link to it on the blog.  In the meantime I will try to post some more pictures.

Waiting for the Next Waiver

At drill weekend this month I found I need yet another waiver if I am going to deploy.  As I had heard months ago, I not only needed a waiver from The Adjutant General of Pennsylvania to stay in for two more years, but I need a waiver from National Guard HQ in the Pentagon to serve in Afghanistan past my 60th birthday.

In case you are wondering, sending me over and then sending me home for my 60th birthday next May is not among my options.  

I would say there is a good reason why they won't let soldiers who are qualified serve past age 60, but the reason may not be good.  I have heard it is because some National Guard and Reserve soldiers served in Iraq and Afghanistan past age 60 and came home on a medical.  If that's true it would make sense to stop old soldiers from serving.  Why bother if they are going to go home early on some kind of medical.

If that's true, I don't have much of a chance.  In my own state the general officers approving the waiver  could ask my commander and their sergeant major about me.  

But at Army headquarters, I am just another packet of papers.  It means risk if they say yes, no risk if they say No.

So the most likely outcome is that I will serve my last two and a half years in the Army in Pennsylvania.  

I'll be happy either way.

Out the Window

We are flying back from Reading to Fort Indiantown Gap. Here's the view out my window. The picture is me just before take off.

Days like this I can't quite believe I get paid for this.

Reading Airport--Where my Dad Served In World War 2

After dropping off infantry soldiers at the Reading Armory, we flew to Reading Airport. This small municipal airport has very little passenger traffic. During World War 2, the place was bustling. The airport served as a transhipment point for P-47 and P-51 fighter aircraft and B-24 bombers going into combat.

According to the poster in the display case, the northeast corner of Reading Airport also served as a Prisoner of War camp. The last commandant of that camp during the war was 1st Lieutenant George Gussman. The POW camp housed 600 mostly Afrika Corps German prisoners captured in 1942 and 43.

Dad was the third commandant. In one of his many war stories about the camp, Dad said those prisoners had driven the last two commanders nuts with Geneva Convention complaints.

The previous commandants were young officers wounded and in charge of the camp while they recovered their health. Their heart was not in it and they got out of there as soon as they could. Dad came to command of the POW camp after commanding a black maintenance company. He was very old (almost 40!!!) so he was not goign to be sent overseas. He was Jewish, the son of Russian-Jewish immigrants who escaped the pogroms of late 19th century Russia.

He was a middleweight boxer before he joined the Army and not inclined to take crap from German prisoners.

At an early meeting with the prisoners, one of them made a remark about Dad being a Jew. Dad knew Yiddish and enough German to know understand the remark.

Dad laid him out and let them know this was his camp and would run by his rules. Elsewhere on this blog I have written about The Engagement Present--600 chocolate bars Dad confiscated from the prisoners and gave to his future bride--and my Mom.

I haven't been here for almost 30 years. There is not much evidence that the camp ever existed. But it was a big part of my Dad's life, and the subject of many stories I heard as a kid.

Picked up Troops

This is what carry-on bagge looks like in a Blackhawk.

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.

The Barber on Third Deployment

Sgt Shawn Adams, 34, an aircraft refueler from Connecticut is in PA to train for his third deployment with 104th Aviation.  Adams has 16 years in the Army, enlisting right out of high school in 1996.  He served three years on active duty in the field artillery then came home to CT and joined the 104th Aviation.

Before he joined the Army, he learned to cut hair.  "I've been cutting hair all my life," he said.  "I never went to school.  I learned on my own and worked in a lot of barber shops."

Adams was the unofficial barber of G Company, 104th Aviation when they deployed to Kandahar Air Base in Afghanistan in 2003.  "We set up a tent in the hangar that was the barber shop.  Word got around and I was cutting hair for people all over the base."

In Iraq in 2009 Adams and many other refuelers worked on Forward Operating Bases across the country.  During the deployment Adams was assigned to fueling operations at Camp Garry Owen, Balad Air Base, Camp Normandy, Riflestock and Tallil Air Base.


At every base he cut hair.  He has a portable haircutting kit.  Tonight he set up in the latrine in our barracks.  Adams is married and has a 5-year-old son.

Sgt. Shawn Adams with a happy customer.

Photos! Coming soon

I have many photos from the previous two weeks of training and hope to have more from training during the upcoming week. Rather and add the photos to previous posts, I will upload photos and mark them to refer back to the training they were from.

Hope to get the photos on line soon.

AT Day 11, Death by PowerPoint, Army Style

Today we had a morning session of chemical warfare training and an afternoon of PowerPoint slides. In the morning we began with PowerPoint but also had a lot of hands-on training. We completely disassembled and cleaned our Protective masks then put on our chemical protective suits. Wearing these suits makes everyone hope we never get attacked with chemical weapons.

After an MRE lunch we had four hours of Army PowerPoint presentations. If you think PowerPoints are boring in civilian life, here is how Army PowerPoints go. One of the presentations was 86 slides on Field Sanitation. The presenter introduces the topic. He puts up the first slide and has a soldier read it. The slides are all text, usually two or three paragraphs. After the soldier reads, hesitating over the many multi-syllable Latin-derived words--like sanitation--the instructor makes a few comments then he has the next soldier read the next slide. This continues until we have read all 86 slides.

You might wonder how anyone could stay awake during a series of several of these presentations. The big motivation is that if you are caught sleeping, you might have to do the class again. I got up and walked around several times.

One of the presentations was about the importance of hydration in the desert. 78 slides. Wow!

AT Day 9, Last Day of Regular AT

Today was the last day of annual training for the battalion. Tomorrow is the first day of pre-deployment training for those who are deploying.
Last night was the last night I will be sleeping in an almost empty barracks. Just three of us are in a 40-man open bay. Like passengers on an empty train, we are spread across the whole room. I am in the northwest corner. Another guy is in the southeast corner. The third guys is in the middle on the east side.
The guy in the middle snores. But it's just him.
Today my big task is taking the battalion photo. The commander wants a photo of all the soldiers at annual training. Next year more than half of us will be deployed so it will be several years before a group this big will be together.
We set up the photo on the air strip in front of the control tower. Muir Field, the airport at Fort Indiantown, is the 3rd busiest heliport in the world.
The Delta maintenance crew towed a Chinook directly in front of the control tow and flanked it with two Blackhawks--a MEDEVAC on the right and an air assault transport model on the left.
It was a bright, sunny, cloudless day. At 1245 more than 250 soldiers formed up for the picture.
SSG Blake Andrews, one of the Chinook flight engineers and an avid photographer, helped me work out the best distance to take the picture.
It might seem like a simple question, but the place they wanted the phot was centered on the control tower, but of center with a PA National Guard logo painted on the runway. I had to take the picture with the commander, CSM and staff standing on a white blob.
Anyway, I got the picture. I'll post a copy of the picture in a later post.

I took the picture at 1300. After the formation and photo, I went back to the armory and phase 1 of training ended for me. At 1500 hours, we got a briefing that marked the beginning of Phase 2. We got the schedule of training for the next two weeks.

After the briefing, everyone in my training group moved into the barracks. No more semi-private room.

By 1730, I ate dinner and changed to ride my bike. After yesterday's run my legs were killing me. I was hoping a ride would help.

After the ride I drove home to see my family. I told the boys about what I was doing then listened to my wife read upcoming blog posts (www.miser-mom.blogspot.com) to meand a very funny book. I went back to the barracks after I finished folding laundry and fell right to sleep.

AT Day 8, Air Assault Training with 3 Chinooks

AT Day 7, PR Guy in Camo

The big event today was an open house event at Schuykill County Airport in Pottsville PA.  This is the second year that 2-104th Aviation set up a remote refueling site at the airport.  This year we added a full Air Traffic Control station.  The Pottsville Republican-Herald sent a reporter and a photographer videographer.  They wrote a story and posted a video here.

The manager of the Schuykill County Airport, Bill Willard, said he likes having us train at the facility and hopes we come back every year.

Below are some photos from the open house.

AT Day 6, Dropping Patients for MEDEVAC Training

This morning we flew on a clear, sunny and cold morning to drop off patients for MEDEVAC training.  We flew from MUIR field to Selingsgrove for the drop off.  Part of the flight plan was for me to take aerial shots of the refueling site after we dropped the patients off so I was sitting in the door gunner's seat on the left side of the Blackhawk.

The gunner's seat is both good and bad.  Great view no doubt about that, but whoever designed the Blackhawk must believe that gunners are no more than 5 feet 8 inches tall or have short legs.  Sitting sideways in that seat, my knees are jammed in and my knees start getting stiff about 15 minutes after takeoff.  I twist sideways.  When we land, I stick my legs out the window.

Anyway, it was cold enough that I shut the window on the way up to Selingsgrove.  I closed the window on the way to the refueling point at Schuykill County Airport, opening it 10 minutes before we arrived.

I was on a headset for the whole flight.  When I am on the headset, I can hear the crew talking to each other and the radio transmissions in and out.  The pilots on this flight were a warrant officer with 20 years experience and a lieutenant who recently graduated flight school.  They talked through the flight operations much more than crews usually do.  For a non-pilot, it was interesting to hear all the decisions they make and how the pass control of the aircraft back and forth.  We flew over several ridges and down into valleys.  The lieutenant did some fast maneuvers rotating  the Blackhawk left and right almost 90 degrees.  Since I was facing sideways, when he did this I was either looking straight up into the sky or straight down into the trees about 50 feet below.

When we got to the refueling point I saw a multi-ship mission flying in from Virginia.  Two Chinooks and a Blackhawk flew in just ahead of us.  I was SOOOOOO happy.  Pictures of refuel sites are very dull--two fuel trucks and some hoses in an open field.  This time when we orbited for the picture, there were two Chinooks getting hot fuel (with the rotors turning).  A much better picture.

Below is a video of the Blackhawk I was riding in and another Blackhawk getting fuel.

AT Day 5, Rain and VIP Visit

Not much flying today.  Bad weather, especially low clouds cut most of the flights.  But it was a perfect day for visitors.  The battalion commander brought his civilian boss and two co-workers for a visit.  The tour began in the drill hall with personal and crew-served weapons.  They got to check out a pistol, an M4 carbine, an M249 SAW, a MK 19 grenade launcher and an M2 .50 Cal. Machine gun.  After the weapons they ate MREs for lunch and looked at aircraft in the hangar.

If we set it up in advance, we can bring our co-workers to the armory and flight facility.  The National Guard has a program encouraging visits.  It's a long trip, but I plan to ask my coworkers if they want to see aircraft up close.  And maybe some weapons.

They can look cool with a .50 Cal!!!

AT,Day 4, Flying to VA on a Blackhawk

Today I got on a Blackhawk flight south to Virginia. Our unit was supporting air assault training for an infantry unit. As it turned out, the schedule for the training changed and I did not see any training. But since my main goal for the day was to get an aerial picture of the refueling and air traffic operation I wrote about yesterday, the whole day should turn out well for me. We are supposed to drop passengers then go to refueling point. It will mean I flew 600 miles instead of 60, but that's not so bad.

When we landed, I went to the chow hall with our detachment. They had the breakfast waiting: eggs to order, pancakes, bacon, ham, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, cinnamon rolls, juice and coffee!!!

Here's one of the crew chiefs getting us ready to take off.

AT, Day 3, Refueling Point and Air Traffic Control

On Sunday morning I took a 30-mile ride to Schuykill County Airport where our unit was setting up a refueling operation and air traffic control. Before we left, I watched a Chinook helicopter pick up a Humvee with a trailer attached. The Humvee and trailer together have the equipment to run communications for an air traffic operation. I watched the helicopter fly north. When I arrived at the airport the air traffic crew was putting the radios into operation and setting up antennas.

The refueling point was already in operation and fueled two Blackhawks while I was there.

The rest of the day I was back down in the weeds trying to get an internet connection to upload photos to FLICKR and Facebook.

Annual Training, Day 2, Medical

When I went to Iraq, medical was a full day. Some of the lines were three hours long. We did not even start medical until 130pm and were done by 5pm. Hearing, dental vision and everything else checked out fine. When I got to the final sign off with the doctor I remembered him from the last trip. He is a National Guard doctor with a private practice. He has patients my age that are way out of shape. He likes meeting people who are not killing themselves with their own lifestyle choices--even if those people are getting ready to deploy.

So I got through everything. Now back to regular training.

Annual Training, Day 2, Paperwork and Medical

This morning I set my alarm for 5:26 am. This gave me a 4-minute head start on 80 guys using the six sinks in our shared bathroom.

My teeth were brushed and face face clean shaven before the farting herd crowded into the latrine.

I packed up my bedding, got dressed and went to an Army breakfast--eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast, cereal, fruit, juice and coffee.

At home I hardly eat breakfast, but as soon as I put on a uniform, I am hungry at O-Dark-30.

At 0640 we formed up for one-day processing. We got our records and headed for the ten paperwork stations to be sure we had wills, insurance, financial arrangements for deployment, plans for our family, a current ID card and two sets of dog tags. They gave the one-day people VIP tags and put us at the head of all the lines!!! This was cool. In 2008 this process took all of a long day. We were done by 1030.

Next we went to field-gear issue. We boarded a bus with our clothing records and they gave us body armor and whatever we were missing from our field gear issue. Many of us had field gear we never used from Iraq (it is mostly cold and rain gear) so we just got the things we were missing.

After field gear we changed from our camouflage duty uniform to PTs. We had a box lunch of Lunchables (no kidding the crust-free sandwiches!!!)Lorna Doones, TGI Fridays chips and water. Healthy choice!!!

Next is medical processing.

More on that later.

Annual Training, Day 1

Today we reported for duty at Noon. The first day of training is a travel day. So I ran in the morning, went to the gym, then hung around with my family before driving to Fort Indiantown Gap.

When I got there, I checked in with my unit before going to the SRP site. SRP stands for Soldier Readiness Processing. It is all the stuff they do to get you ready to deploy.

We had a formation at 1300. By 1330 we had another formation just for those of us assigned for processing in just one day. This is unusual. The process usually takes three days. The lieutenant in charge released us until 0640 tomorrow morning.

I went back to my unit and arranged for a trip to a fuel site on Sunday.

Then I went and had dinner with my family. My oldest daughter Lauren was in town so I got to spend a few some time with her and the boys before going back to my barracks.

Since I got in late and the barracks were full, I got a top bunk in the corner.

For the first time in a year, I got to experience the Snore Serenade of sound bouncing around the 40-man room full of snoring, farting soldiers.

Summer Camp on Friday

Annual Training begins for me the end of this week.  I will try to write every day about what I am doing--whatever that turns out to be.

Since we keep all our gear in the armory, packing is not such a big deal.  Most of my packing is bike stuff so I can ride at the end of the duty day--when the day's training ends before dark.

More later.

Catch 22 and Living in Pennsylvania

This post is a week late.  Most people don't live in the state where they grew up, so the fact that I have lived in PA for more than three decades after growing up in MA is not a big deal.  But how I came to be a PA resident is straight out of Catch-22.  That wonderful, dark book has many messages, but among them is:  In the Army (government) Paperwork is reality, Reality ranks below paperwork.

So if there is a conflict between paperwork and reality, reality loses.

Several years ago, I wrote about the scientist in charge of the Soviet nerve gas program.  This long-suffering man was drafted into the Soviet Army in 1941 to repel the German invasion.  He was Lithuanian.  When the Soviets took over his country, they took his families home and looted it.  Yet he fought for the Soviets.  Bravely.  He was twice gravely wounded, once left for dead.  He was decorated many times.

After the war he went to Moscow to get soldiers preference admission to college.

He was denied.

Why?  the paperwork indicated he died in 1943 in the Battle of Kursk.  He was left for dead, but was quite alive and standing in front of the Soviet official.  It took months to prove he was alive.  Eventually he did.

When I re-enlisted in the Army a year after I left the Air Force, I signed up in Lancaster PA.  I was talking college classes, but not a resident.  I compared the offers of recruiters in Lancaster and Boston and went with the one Lancaster.  I signed the enlistment giving my address as PO Box 334 Brownstown PA.

Four years later I was in Germany and getting ready to get out and go to college.  I was planning on going back to MA when I was told I was not a resident of MA.  I lived in Stoneham MA from birth to my first enlistment.  My parents were still living in the house they bought in Stoneham in 1957.

Didn't matter.  My DD Form 4 (enlistment) said I was a resident of Brownstown and my stuff would get shipped no further.

But it turned out that DD Form 4 meant I was legally a PA resident.  I could attend Penn State at resident rates!  I applied and got in.

I became a PA resident the moment I signed that DD Form 4, no matter where my family lived.

Told My Boss

This morning at 845 am I told my boss about the deployment.  She was great.  She supports the military and understands that I want to go.  Maybe just as important she understands adventure.  She told she and her family are going to the Caribbean for the weekend.  She plans to swim with a whale.

On Tuesday we will be making plans for putting someone else in my job for a year.  Two of my co-workers may get a chance to see if they like my job.  Of course, nothing  is for sure.

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.

I GOT THE FULL 2-YEAR EXTENSION!!!!

The battalion Command Sergeant Major called me today and left a message saying, "I have good news, call me back."

He did have good news.  The Pennsylvania Adjutant General signed a two-year extension of my enlistment.  My new discharge date is 30 May 2015, just after my 62nd birthday.  So I now have three years and a month before I will officially be a civilian again.

Chinook Flies Sideways During Sling Load Training

Days Like These are Why I Want to Stay In!!!!

Friday night I got a text message from our operations officer:

0730 at west field for first CH movement.

That was all the info I had.

I drove to West Field arriving at 0720. When I arrived two Chinooks sat in the middle of a large field.  Along the north edge in front of the tree line were more than 200 soldiers lining up in groups getting ready to fly to hill tops on the ridges on the north side of Fort Indiantown Gap.

As the infantry lined up, Chief Witmer put me on the second aircraft so I could take a picture of the first aircraft landing and the troops running off. The plan did not work out--at least for pictures.  The first aircraft was so fast it was flying away from the landing zone before we arrived.

So I did not get the pictures, but for the first time I had the experience of landing on top of a cliff in a Chinook with the tail wheels on the cliff and the nose wheels off the edge while 30 infantrymen ran out the back of the aircraft.  The landing was very smooth and so was the hover while the infantrymen ran down the ramp and off the aircraft, but I could look out the forward door gunner's window and down the side of the cliff.

It was very cool.

The two Chinooks flew several more sorties ferrying tropps up to Media Ridge.  I recently exchanged my cracked Blackberry for an iPhone so I took movies of some of the landings and takeoffs.  I will post them later this week.  I climbed on the last flight returning from Medina Ridge.  The troop exercise was over by 11 am.  But the days excitement wasn't over.

Still Getting Good Stuff While I Am In

My oldest daughter just called to tell me she could get tickets for the Richmond NASCAR race for my three sons and I (next son moves in tomorrow).  It is a night race at the end of April on a 3/4-mile oval and arguably one of the best tracks in NASCAR.  The tickets are for Iraq/Afghanistan war veterans.

If my extension does not go through, I will have just one more year to score this kind of swag for currently serving veterans.  Chalid, our new son, said he would like to go to a race.  I did not know when we could go, but free tickets made the planning much easier!

Lost Paperwork at Higher Headquarters, Starting Again

I got an email this morning from my CSM saying that higher HQ did not have my request paperwork.  he asked for some info I sent him in January so he could start the process over again.  Although my discharge is not for another 13 months, the CSM said in December I had better get started now.  He has 34 years of service and knows what can happen to paperwork.  Good thing he is looking out for young guys like me.  (Even if he is 7 years younger than I am.)