| Quicky but a goodie. |
[18 Feb 2011|09:24am] |
You know, reading shit like this is why I love the ironic simplicity of Soldiering.
The facebook status update of one of my friends in Afghanistan:whats on my mind? hmmm naked chicks, beer, naked chicks drinking beer, drinking beer with naked chicks drinking beer...God bless America.
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| New Standard. |
[04 Dec 2010|02:57pm] |
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mood |
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 chipper |
] |
I don't know why it is that I'm never compelled to write anything anymore. I think that cynicism destroys your creative output. Ironically, the contents of this update feature behavior very lacking in cynicism.
Life updates:
I'm back from Iraq, thoroughly re-integrated into civilian life. Facebook status updates decrying the unfairness of everyday life no longer piss me off. More often than not, I find myself joining their ranks.
I've decided that the name Jennifer will follow me for the rest of my life, no matter how far I get from home. After swearing off commitment indefinitely at the beginning of August, I promptly met another girl. In fact, two girls. Jennifer and Maddy Mae. Not as risque as it sounds as the former spends her free time parenting the latter. It's funny, a few months ago, I was having real concerns that I'd never feel at ease enough to have my own child. December rolls around and I'm completely enamored with a mother and her three year old. I'm done trying to figure out the way the world works. Even my very tiny slice of it.
I was in a car accident last month, a blessing in disguise. With the insurance money, I managed to pay off the old vehicle and acquire a newer one of much greater value. The 2011 Sonata. That's not to say the insurance covered it all, but it covered the downpayment. And the upgrade in quality has been enough to make me feel like keeping the interior clean, much more than I could say about the old Sonata.
Anyway, I'll be back in Iowa with Jennifer and Maddy from January 3-10. It seems very alien to not be anticipating drinking shenanigans so much as family introductions, but somewhere along the last 4 months I embraced being an adult. So while the sensation is alien, it is also very welcome.
Was moved to a new unit a few weeks ago. So long 1-89 Cav, a reluctant hello to 2-15 Field Artillery. My old unit beats out my new one by a substantial margin, but I'll leave it at that. Suffice to say, I do not see daylight any more during the week outside of a duty uniform. I live for the weekends again, but I figured that would happen when I got back from Iraq.
Okay, gotta go meet my gf's baby daddy. Saturdays are now babysitting days. On today's slate: Vampire Weekend dance party with a three year old. Weird, huh?
- Enjoy it while it lasts.
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| Etc. |
[01 Aug 2010|01:21pm] |
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mood |
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calm |
] |
In service to the last post, and as the most strikingly emotional example of what I was talking about I have seen in a while:
In our best moments, when our purpose is realized, "protectinhg those who cannot protect themselves."
Read the article before you argue that there's no legitimate reason for being in Afghanistan right now. If you still believe it afterward - respect for acknowledging the realities of the situation and holding onto your opinion anyway.
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| And you never lie. |
[24 Jul 2010|05:55pm] |
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mood |
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satisfied |
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“It’s an honorable profession. We protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
I spent a lot of time over the last year trying to figure out what exactly the role of a Soldier in the modern world for the contemporary American military is. Left wing people I know, free from the emotional connection of having someone in the military, love to point out that we are not, in our current form, really defending America. And I don’t really agree with the response from the right-wing that we’re fighting terrorism over here so that we don’t have to fight it over there. Terrorism isn’t the refuse of a single group or a single ideology, and it’s not confined by a national boundary. It’s the consequence of a certain radical sentiment, and that radical sentiment has certainly become more potent in the aftermath of OIF than it was before. The negative view of American hegemony is undeniably greater now than it was 10 years ago.
These are all things I was aware of before I joined the Army. I may have glossed over it in my desire to embrace the pro-military sentiment that permeates America’s perception of its own warriors. But even back in 2007, and certainly before getting to Iraq - I was aware that the 2000s are not the 1940s, and our way of life is not threatened.
Still, I had confidence in the military as an organization. I believed that good, reasonable men inhabited its ranks and through them a noble intent eventually filtered through the ranks. I believed Saving Private Ryan and Band of Brothers.
In some sense, I still do. But I also know that the ranks are full of people that bring their own personal prejudices and flaws into the job, and that decisions made by these people can poison what they touch. Everyone here does not automatically deserve the respect of the nation they serve, and oftentimes certain actions and the people that commit them deserve its contempt.
I despaired for a while. I struggled to find a reason to have pride in a lumbering, callous and oft-incompetent organization that has such power as the US military. When I got to Iraq, as boredom set in and frustration filled in the cracks around it, I came as close as I’ve been in the last three years to believing I’d made a mistake signing up.
Then I became a Platoon Leader, which inspired me to start paying attention to a lot of the things I had previously ignored as an FSO.
It was Captain Dailey, our Troop Commander, that finally provided the definition I’ve been looking for. One free of the constraints of a single nationality. At one point, in an effort to explain the significance of our mission in Iraq, he gathered the troop together. It was not a passionate plea, there was no desperation or fiery conviction in his words. There was only a simple truth, a blatantly obvious explanation for being in Iraq (or anywhere, really) that had somehow eluded me.
“Ours is an honorable profession. Our job is to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
There are a lot of people who would dismiss the validity of that definition because they see the mission we’ve undertaken as unnecessary. Maybe they’re right about that part. They probably are. But in America, where civilians make the decisions about where, when and why we go to war, I think Captain Dailey defined the only responsible and honorable way to conduct ourselves.
We are here to protect. Sometimes this is a contradictory objective, and I don’t hesitate to admit that the protection of my Soldiers is more important to me than the protection of anonymous local nationals, regardless of the justice in us being here in the first place. The horrible beauty of war, the camaraderie and chivalry that makes it more than mindless destruction, dictates that it could not be any other way.
But when the objectives of war become the well-being of the population, protecting those that cannot protect themselves is not only honorable, it’s tactically sound.
And that’s why I feel pride. Warfare as a phenomena is not easily applied to the process of nation building. The realities of war and the decisions of a few can often make a mockery of the idea that we ‘protect’ others. The Army is a weapon of occasionally indiscriminate power, and it is impossible to negate tragedy when you choose to employ it.
The contradictions make me proud. Killing is an unnatural thing, and training a group to make it natural pushes them beyond a threshold. Many would say it’s unreasonable, once this is accomplished, to ask those who practice the act to do anything more.
The Army does that. It doesn’t always work, but the attempt is what allows us to keep our humanity. It’s what keeps us honorable in a civilized world.
“Kill when necessary, but show restraint. Employ rules of engagement and escalation of force, even if it puts you at risk. Observe judicial authority even when you know you’re letting someone who wants to kill you go. Killing your enemy is less important that preserving the innocent.”
These ideas are bitter and objectionable to the Soldier whose life is at stake. They go against every instinct for preservation we have. And as a result, they are oftentimes disregarded. It is inevitable.
But it’s policy. It’s what our leaders demand from us, and what we demand from our Soldiers. And for that reason, for that stated goal - I believe that being here is important. Being one of those who subscribes to Captain Dailey’s philosophy justifies every day I spend here.
- swallowed the combination and then forgot it
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| How to win. |
[23 Sep 2009|09:13pm] |
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mood |
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jubilant |
] |
I have a ridiculous love-hate relationship with this job.
My day began hating my life because I had to get up at 4:00 a.m. to be at a Spur Ride that lasted all day. A Spur Ride, to the uninitiated, is a testing of your proficiency as a Cavalry Soldier. Six mile ruck march to a time standard, grenade throw, casualty evaluation/MEDEVAC call-in, weapons assembly to time standard for the M9, M4 and M249 with the proper functions check at the end, putting together commo equipment, evaluating enemy sitrep and sending up a SALUTE report to time standard, UXO report in proper formation (a UXO is unexploded ordnance, in training basically an IED) and a 4 mile run/sit-ups/push-ups event tested to time and rep standard.
I was miserable and tired on the drive in, miserable and tired when it started to rain, and miserable and tired after we finished 6 hours later and were waiting to go home. I didn't stop being miserable and tired until I got out of the shower.
And yet, here I sit, marveling that this is actually my job. And it feels good when I compare it to the alternative - being stuck in a cubicle or working as a cashier somewhere scraping up money to pay off my student loans.
I am so fickle.
Anyway, it looks like I'll earn my Silver Spurs tomorrow, as I performed all tasks to standard today and the run is no sweat, tomorrow.
And by spurs, I do in fact mean boot spurs. Yes. They are authorized with the Army uniform when you're in a Cav unit. Just like the giant Stetson some may have seen me sporting months ago.
So what it comes down to is that I will have spent a week of my life physically killing myself for the opportunity to wear what are essentially pieces of flair that wouldn't look out of place in a John Wayne movie.
None of you fuckers could take apart an M249 and put it back together in less than a minute and a half, though. So I win.
- And although peace probably appeals to tree-loving bisexuals like you and your parents, I happen to be a death-dealing, blood-crazed warrior who wakes up every day just hoping for the chance to dismember my enemies and defile their civilizations. Peace sucks a hairy asshole, Freddy. War is the motherfucking answer.
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| Haha. |
[19 Sep 2009|03:25pm] |
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mood |
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 productive |
] |
I am being shamelessly manipulated by propaganda, I know. But it's still nice to know that the movie trailer for my job is way cooler than the movie trailer for your job. Your job is stupid. You probably don't even have a movie trailer for your job.
Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to watch football with a bunch of desaturated, digitally-camo'ed heroes. In Target clothes.
- Rick Fulgium would be a great Atlas. Boring movie though.
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| YOU LIE. |
[18 Sep 2009|02:37pm] |
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mood |
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 cold |
] |
Okay. The first 30 seconds of the song Resistance on Muse's new album are like directly ripped from the song Dumbledore's Farewell on the Half-Blood Prince soundtrack.
I am horrified that I identified that.
But that's actually a good thing. New album = good from a minutes sampling.
Also: FALL IS HERE IN UPSTATE NEW YORK AND IT IS BEAUTIFUL!
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| October 16th. |
[17 Sep 2009|07:54pm] |
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mood |
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cheerful |
] |
And this will be me:
Minus the part where I don't have any kids. But still. Those are images from the morning my friend William deployed a few weeks ago.
FILM MOMENT!
Also, a FISTER (what I am) from a sister Cav Squadron in 10th Mountain received the Medal of Honor today. Posthumously, of course, since that's apparently the only way to get it in the war on terror.
But I was proud.
- This, this one night, two of my brothers came and woke me up in the middle of the night. And they said they had a surprise for me. So they took me to the barn up in the loft and there was my oldest brother, Dan, with Alice, Alice Jardine. I mean, picture a girl who just took a nosedive from the ugly tree and hit every branch coming down. And... and Dan's got his shirt off and he's working on this bra and he's tryin to get it off and all of a sudden Shawn just screams out, "Danny you're a young man, don't do it!" And so Alice Jardine hears this and she screams and she jumps up and she tries to get running out of the barn but she's still got this shirt over her head. She goes running right into the wall and knocks herself out. So now Danny's just so mad at us. He, he starts coming after us, but... but at the same time Alice is over there unconscious. He's gotta wa... , wake her up. So he grabs her by a leg and he's drag, dragging her. At the same time he picks up a shovel. And he's going after Shawn, and Shawn's saying, "What are you trying to hit me for? I just did you a favor!" And so this makes Dan more angry. He tries to swing this thing, he looses the shovel, goes outta his grasp and hits a kerosene lantern; the thing explodes, the whole barn almost goes up because of this thing. That was it. That was the last, that was, Dan went off to basic the next day. That was the last night the four of us were together. That was two years ago.
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| Nuvi. |
[05 Sep 2009|09:51pm] |
I love my family. I love everything about the last 16 days. I don't want to go back to New York tomorrow and I don't want to go to Iraq.
I'm no coward. I'd never consider shirking my responsibilities at this point, but...
I just can't forget that if this were five years ago or so, I'd already be getting excited about Christmas. Instead, I forgot it was my birthday until about 2 o'clock today while I was sitting in a pew at my grandpa's wedding resenting the pastor for calling his new wife his soul mate.
Maybe I can sleepwalk through the next 14 months and wake-up on the flight back to the states.
That would be great.
Oh, and seriously. Only eight facebook happy birthdays? I am clearly bad at social networking.
- so do all who live to see such times
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| I think they want you to give in. |
[18 Aug 2009|06:01pm] |
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Yesterday I watched the documentary Occupation Dreamland entirely on youtube and it reminded me of a few years back, when I thought that Soldiers and the military and organizations in general operated with relatively straightforward goals that were attainable with a certain level of commitment or funding or idealism. You know, whatever factor you consider most important; put in enough of it and you can accomplish something.
These days, it all just seems so absurd. I hate it all. Trying to determine motives or a linear course of events to explain why things are the way they are. It's all so ridiculous. The military has imposed a sort of rigid structure and organization on my life. But in the big picture, all that scheming has succeeded only in revealing how complex and chaotic every 'system' in the world is. The Army, for example, produces complex protocols and doctrine designed to achieve very simple things. This is the proper way to position a squad's specific weapons emplacements in a patrol base to shave crucial seconds off of a response time for an RPG attack. Here is the FM detailing the proper transmission to send up a call for fire, complete with properly configured and ordered shell fuze combinations, gun-target-lines and battery strength sent back through the message to observer, in order to more efficiently facilitate round observed.
There are professionals that spend decades integrating these tasks into muscle memory, subconsciousness. To eternally strive to make your response time just a little bit faster, your team just a little more alert and your military bearing just a little more apparent to potential enemies. Men's entire professional lives devoted to statistically evening the playing field so that maybe one or two Soldiers comes home to the U.S. and gets to enjoy a few years worth of dinnertime meals with their wives and children.
And even simple things like that don't work out, and people die. Because the enemy was better, or an unknown factor changes the entire equation totally negating your training and your proficiency.
Anyway, the point is - if a simple squad level engagement can degenerate into chaos, where everything flies to hell and the people who know what they're doing end up dead... how do you run a war? How do you run a country? How do you actually achieve anything you set out to do? It's like the weather. Once you get beyond a very short-term frame of time, the future becomes so impossible to predict and engage that all of it - motivations, intentions, preparation - seems all moot.
Who cares why we went to war in Iraq? Is there a single reason? A set of reasons? Five-hundred specific reasons that were more influential a factor than any other ten-thousand arbitrary environmental conditions that existed in 2003 completely independent of human behavior? No. Same goes for Vietnam. World War II.
The housing market crash.
Hurricane Katrina.
The sinking of the goddamned Titanic. All of it. None of it.
I have gotten so ridiculously and irrationally pissed off at both sides of the political spectrum over the last 4 months. It is agony to listen to either side spout of indignantly about the injustices of the opposite side, as if they have some sort of mandate from a higher, verifiably 'just' ideology to be suggesting (with such horribly misconstrued certainty) that they know what a country should do. What human beings should do.
Government programs are inherently inefficient and authoritarian? Why? It's people. It's groups of people trying to do a job entirely dependent on a thousand different factors. Maybe they could do it better than private industry, or maybe they'll make a mess of it. Admit you don't know. Cite examples of why it may be more 'likely' that it will turn out. That's a risky proposition, but at least its empirical. But stop suggesting that there's some moralistic reason that dooms it to failure, to authoritarian abuse. Or at least ones that don't exist outside the tendencies of human nature across the private/government spectrum.
Educators shouldn't be held to standards of performance? Firing teachers that have a history of failure and continuing to fund charter schools that, while often unsuccessful are at least exploring ways to buck the status quo is inherently evil? Yes, let's just give everyone that attains a position inside a school system tenure. Present an alternate solution that doesn't involve simply expanding the budget of an education system that has produced results lagging 25th in the developed nations of the world in math and science.
All the self-righteousness, the indignation, the arrogance and certainty is just horrifying. There is no humility anymore. Compromise and hesitation are being viewed as weakness on health care just as stringently by liberals as it was by conservatives in the war on terror.
Me, I have some humility. I've heard conservatives talk about the Muslim concept of Insha'Allah (if God wills it) and liberals talk about the Christian "it's all part of God's plan" and laugh their asses off at the seeming resignation and superstition of it all, but I'll be goddamned if Insha'Allah doesn't make more sense than "manifest destiny."
Yeah, I have humility. I also have a headache from trying to figure out how mankind ever managed to convince itself that it was such a big, screaming deal.
Anyway, I finally get to go home to Iowa this weekend. Until September 6. Iowa is a great place. I'm very thankful that I get to grow up being known as an Iowan as opposed to a European, a New Yorker or a Californian. I can't wait to go home, speak with my mother about something that, by that point, I will consider a big deal. I will use big words and cite blogs referencing NYTimes articles I've read to support why I am right, and I will forget that I have humility and it may seem important for a minute that mom sees it my way. Because the last time I felt normal at home, I was a college student and college students are insufferable, but old habits die hard. And then she will think to herself, "He's going to Iraq soon," and she will consider the word with four syllables I had just used and she will shrug her shoulders, politely smile and say something like "I don't know, Donnie. The world is very confusing. You may be right."
And then I will be ashamed for a second. Just for a second.
And then I will take solace in the assumption that when I'm older, and this series of yearlong realizations is in its twilight, I will take it as well as that.
Because that's what Iowans do.
- Don't give in, 2000 man.
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| These are my awards, mother. From ARMY. |
[06 Aug 2009|02:37pm] |
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...The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand-racing.
YES, THE FIRST EVER 'PERFECT' SITUATION WITH WHICH TO USE THAT QUOTE.
I got into work today and my CO informs me that I have to be at an awards rehearsal at 1300. He put me in for an Army Achievement Medal for my stint as XO at JRTC.
I will copy it here. You know, for posterity. And to brag.
FOR MERITORIOUS ACHIEVEMENT WHILE ACTING AS THE TROOP EXECUTIVE OFFICER DURING JRTC ROTATION 09-08 FROM 06 JULY 2009 TO 27 JULY 2009. 2LT SMITH'S COMMITMENT TO EXCELLENCE, DEDICATION TO DUTY, AND SELFLESS SERVICE GREATLY ENABLED THE TROOP'S SUCCESS DURING ALL PHASES OF THE MISSION REHEARSAL EXERCISE. HIS EFFORTS REFLECT GREAT CREDIT UPON HIMSELF, THE 1ST SQUADRON, 89TH CAVALRY REGIMENT, THE 2ND BRIGADE COMBAT TEAM, THE 10TH MOUNTAIN DIVISION (LI) AND THE UNITED STATES ARMY.
ACHIEVEMENT #1:
During the Troop's rotation at JRTC in July 2009, 2LT Smith assumed duty as the acting Troop Executive Officer when the previous XO remained on Rear-D due to injury. Despite no experience as an XO and minimal hand-off from his predecessor, 2LT Smith immediately took ownership of his new position and executed his duties flawlessly, overseeing a fully successful deployment from Fort Drum, New York to Fort Polk, Louisiana.
ACHIEVEMENT #2:
During the Command Post Exercise (CPX) portion of the JRTC rotation, 2LT Smith served as the overall command and control for the Troop's digital operations. His supervision of the Troop CP, especially the Troop Intelligence Support Team (CoIST), led to the capture of two Squadron High Value Individuals (HVIs) including Squadron HVI#1, in addition to many other successful digital operations. 2LT Smith's superior leadership of the CoIST continued through Force-on-Force, enabling the destruction of an insurgent cell and the capture of the Squadron's new HVI#1.
Intermediate Authority:
Dailey, Joshua P. CPT, Troop Commander
Approval Authority
Kneram, Mark S. LTC, Squadron Commander
Anyway, now I have a nice dangly medal to wear with my Class Blues and a badass Army Certificate inside a folder. And an improved Officer Record Brief. And I got to receive the award in front of the other 400 Soldiers in the Squadron. win!
I am better at ARMY than I thought I would be, I guess. Happyface.
EDIT: My God, how did I forget to make this AD reference? TITLE FIXED.
- they're falling down
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| Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope. |
[04 Aug 2009|02:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 contemplative |
] |
So I have this idea.
It's kind of a project for Iraq, so I don't go insane over a year.
I'm going to make a movie. Sort of.
Starting when I go back home in a couple weeks, I'm going to record portions of everything. I will ask people to do things and say things that are false. I will create stories that are detached from a narrative, and I will mix them with the recorded reality of this coming deployment; its effects on my family, my friends, other Soldiers in my Squadron and, of course, me.
When I get back, I will look at everything I've recorded and from that I will create a narrative with all the wisdom of a year's worth of hindsight. Then I will get to work editing it all together, on the new computer with high-speed software that I will purchase with my war profits.
Since I'm admitting right now that, essentially, no one is in control of this story until it's done, I hope to get other participants involved too. I may put this on facebook and see if the new culture of social networks helps this idea to take shape. I want people to send things to me. Video or audio or written. General support or stories of their own. True or false. Short and independent or long and interwoven with my own. And maybe, in fifteen months, those stories will appeal to me in such a way that it becomes part of this yet untold, partially nonfiction story.
The idea is vague and undefined in my head right now, but simply writing this has already provided it some form.
What do you think will happen? In the end, I will be in control and I can't help but think that my initial subject - the coming deployment - will probably end up being the overarching theme of the movie in the end. But who knows? It could end up being the simple story of 2010. For a lot of different people.
It could end up being about time machines and dragons.
It's all going to depend on the participation, I suppose.
What I would like is a story so large and interconnected that the narrative borders incoherence, and only those involved can really decipher what is going on. Or at least appreciate certain fragments of what is going on.
Probably this will go unseen or ignored by the vast majority.
But I'm excited about my idea. This project.
I fear I am not networked well enough for this idea to blossom, but we shall see.
Suggestions. Support. Silence?
Much appreciated, regardless.
- we will write a post-card our friends and family in free verse
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| 71 days. |
[31 Jul 2009|02:53pm] |
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mood |
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] |
And I have resolved to squeeze as much memorability and enjoyment out of that remaining time as is physically possible.
Appropriately, I have decided it will begin with Weezer.
- i feel a deeper peace and that deeper peace is penetrating
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| A lesson in foresight. |
[28 Jul 2009|04:26pm] |
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impressed |
] |
So I was re-reading old entries in my journal because it's August - the reminiscing month. In addition to briefly revisiting what it felt like to be in college, be in my first two relationships and have a best friend, I came across this line from the very first time I actually consumed alcohol in public, and cannot remember the context for it. Or if I was serious. Or even actually saying it. But it's kind of amusing to realize that I inadvertently managed to keep one of my New Year's Resolutions for 2006:
"Last night, I did 8 shots of Captain Morgan, 2 Jello Shots, 2 margaritas, a rum & coke, and a sex on the beach and not only did my second night of drinking ever not end in a hangover the morning after, but the two-and-a-half hour sleep deprived bed-laying session that took place between 4 and 6 a.m. convinced me to join the Army after I graduate."
As it seems that fate has a way of making me live up to my 'word' even if I'm just trying to be sardonic, I hereby distance myself from the following potentially devastating faux-ambitions I've claimed to have at some point in the past: - My future Olympic-sized swimming pool of cherry Jello. (Local neighborhood miscreant asphyxiation waiting to happen.)
- The dark arboretum complete with snakes and alligators I had planned for my basement when I was 12. (Local neighborhood miscreant devouring waiting to happen.)
- Future career as a full-sized Tyrannosaurus Rex. (Would require me to completely re-envision and rename my favorite sexual positions, probably in Latin. Too pretentious for the tyrant lizard king.)
- Legally changing my last name to Lagorganschnoff. (My children are probably already marked as the perfect bullying target, having a dad who can recite the Jedi Code. I owe it to them to not make it worse.)
If anyone else can remember any other stupid ambition I've had that's likely to get me arrested should destiny make it so, please print it here. That way, I can remind Jenny to punch me in the face if I ever start thinking it's a good idea again.
That is all.
- Nobody asks me how things ought to be! I've got tons of ideas!
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| Things. |
[28 Jul 2009|10:00am] |
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] |
One
Evidence detailing what you must already have known to be true:
According to the Gallup-Healthways Well-Being Index daily poll of the US population, taller people live better lives, at least on average. They evaluate their lives more favorably, and they are more likely to report a range of positive emotions such as enjoyment and happiness. They are also less likely to report a range of negative experiences, like sadness, and physical pain, though they are more likely to experience stress and anger, and if they are women, to worry. These findings cannot be attributed to different demographic or ethnic characteristics of taller people, but are almost entirely explained by the positive association between height and both income and education, both of which are positively linked to better lives.
Two
Amazing. Particularly the Dr. Strangelove update.
That is all.
- you misspelled "weltanschauung."
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| I told you I'd be back. |
[24 Jul 2009|11:53pm] |
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mood |
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artistic |
] |
So I just got back from JRTC and just let me rant about Army developments no one else will really understand the context of for a moment.
I was made Bravo Troop's XO (Executive Officer) for this rotation because the actual XO was getting back surgery. That doesn't mean a lot to anyone, likely, so I will explain the position. Bravo Troop is a Scout Troop (Company) in a Cavalry Squadron (Battalion). That means it's a maneuver unit. Since it's a Cav Scout unit, specifically, that means it's a RSTA (Recon, Surveillance, Target Acquisition) manuever unit. The XO is the second in command of that unit, just underneath the Troop Commander. And that role is usually filled by a First Lieutenant Promotable (Almost a Captain.) Their job is so insanely broad that I won't list the individual taskings, but basically they're responsible for all the equipment in the unit, all the targeting cycles, strategy, tactics, operations planning and contact with Squadron over said things in addition to just being the second in line in the power structure of the unit, behind the CO.
I'm an FSO. A field artillery officer. I was attached to an entirely different troop and had no real maneuver training outside of OCS and Basic Training before starting JRTC. Since I was in a different troop, I also had absolutely no idea regarding Bravo's inventory or infrastructure of it. And I found out about my position about 5 days before I left.
Additionally, I was still going to be expected by our TM's (Training Mentors at JRTC, senior ranking guys that basically sit around for hours watching and grading your performance) to fulfill the duties of my FSO job as well as the XO job. The running joke title for me after about the third day was "FXO."
Suffice to say I was shitting my pants when we left trying to figure out just how in the hell I was going to do all of this and why I was chosen to do it in the first place.
You know what I discovered?
That I'm a pretty good fucking Soldier and Officer.
I mean it. I mean, I made mistakes. Naturally. Mostly concerning logistics where the S4 and Squadron XO were throwing around a thousand acronyms I had never heard before. But when the CPX (Command Post Exercise) and Force on Force (the simulated 4 day war that takes place at the end) started, I was like... in my element. It was kind of frightening to me just how much I got into it.
The XO generally works out of the CP to maintain control of headquarters and info flow when the CO decides to go out on missions with the troop. The Army basically integrated the CoIST (Company Intelligence Support Team) into the CP and so the XO also works with them to develop Troop Level analysis of intelligence.
And... how do I say it? I made that shit work.
Basically, I haven't felt challenged, performance wise, since I got into the Army. Most of my job so far has been relatively straight forward, and in the Iraq fight, somewhat redundant to boot. (How many M777's are you going to be allowed to fire into Baghdad?) So I've coasted along doing what I do and just maintaining a presence. Not really feeling challenged.
This was different though.
My hours were basically 0600 - 0100 every single day for almost 2 weeks. 18-20 hours a day in the CP every day analyzing data, doing the CO's CUB (Commander's Update Brief) with the Squadron Commander every day, and developing ConOps for SQD for the missions the CO and I planned together. I was developing maneuver tactics AND fires support AND doing data analysis of ever single DER, every single intel report from the S2, and every single BCT-wide event that popped up on TIGRnet.
And I was fucking good at it. Based on the Ops the CO and I planned off of info the CoIST and I analyzed, we managed to completely ball-up the AQI cell in our AO, cripple the Ashura Brigade cell in our AO, capture Squadron HVT#1(Hight Value Target) on two seprate occasions and essentially return control of our two major populations centers, Mosalah and Barakah, to the Iraqi Army Battalion we were working with.
I hated Louisiana, I hated the heat, I hated being away from Jenny and everything like normal. But for the first time since I joined the Army, I felt like I was actually making a legitimate difference in my unit.
My First Sergeant and the CO later joked with me that they planned on keeping me in the position. That kind of scared me because I loathed the logistics portion of the job, even though I still did it better than the previous XO (they said.) But now that it's done, I have to say I feel almost like I've been demoted, returning to my actual job as FSO.
I've been wanting that validation since I got here. The feeling that exists outside the general sense of fulfillment that comes from military service, period.
My CO claims he's going to try and integrate a lot of my downtime into the CP/CoIST work when we're in Iraq and, contrary to what I'd expect (oh shit, another time consuming task for the deployment) I'm truly excited about it. Making a real contribution to a major endeavor in American history. And world history. Perhaps not a large one, but a real one nonetheless.
We had a clinic opening the 3rd day of Force on Force in Mosalah. We had intel that this individual, Mahdi Fawaz, an AQI VBIED (Al Qeada in Iraq/Vehicle Based IED, yes the Army has a fuckton of acronyms) assembler, was planning a major attack in conjunction with the local Ashura Brigade element to destroy the clinic, as it was a major CMO (Civil Military Operation) on behalf of us and the Iraqi Army. Myself and the main CoISTer were up until 0300 the night before going over intel reports trying to figure out where this guy was, what vehicles we should be out on the look out for and who in his network might be the trigger man for the bomb. We briefed the CO, ran 3 raids the night before, set up Tactical Checkpoints and key blocking positions the morning of the event with our platoons and some Iraqi Army, and you know what? Nothing happened. It was a perfect ceremony, we took down the network before they could plan a catastrophic attack and use it as propaganda.
And that instance of a simple clinic opening ceremony going off without a boom was so incredibly gratifying that I felt like if it had been a real life op, it would have alone justified the last 2 years of service in the Army.
Anyway, I'm glad to be back. I don't know if I could keep that schedule up for a year in Iraq. But I'm also glad to be doing something with my life. Recent events have made me question the type of person I am. If I was just meandering through life without a true understanding of how I was affecting people, postively or negatively. A lot of self-doubt. This was brought on by one event in particular. Namely, my former best-friend-forever plunging a 12-inch serrated knife into the lower portion of my back. Figuratively speaking. For about the third time, if I choose to count things like that. And I do.
I needed this. I needed to know that I've made the right decisions for my life. That the dumbfuckery of a inversely maturing, self-loathing perpetual beta-male is not something that should effect myself or the people I care about for more than a few moments, even if it does anyway.
And now I again feel like a balanced individual.
I have met the love of my life and she loves me back. I have a phenomenal family that I love and in turn loves me through separation and turmoil alike. And in the gap where that one-sided delusion of a friendship once resided, I have inserted the committment to a job worth doing, and doing well.
Things aren't perfect, and they're not even as consistantly good as they were before I got here, to the Army. But when I look at myself objectively, which is how I've always wanted to view my life, I can't think of a thing (or woman) I'd rather be doing. If you made it past the Army jargon and are still reading, congratulations! You are now a better person for it.
I'm off to bed to enjoy my first evening of more than 5 hours of sleep in about 3 weeks.
Toodles.
- like the dragonfly's wings need the wind
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| Only a lot more so! |
[27 Jun 2009|11:26pm] |
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The most tragic thing in the world is a man of genius who is not a man of honor.
Boy, you said it classic Irish Playwright George Bernard Shaw.
Anyway, I'll be off to Cape Cod with Jenny Thursday for a weekend at one of her friend's lake houses (Jenny correction: "beach house, not lake house. cape house would be most appropriate") for Fourth of July. One entire day of the coming weekend will be devoted towards our collective Masters' Course in Burn Notice DVD's. But primarily, I just can't wait to see her again.
It'll be a nice sendoff before we leave for Fort Polk, Louisiana early the following week for JRTC. Where yours truly will meander through the forests and swamps in 110 degree heat for a month, preparing to wander through the wind and sands in 120 degree heat for a year.
It is has also been in the 90's here for the last two weeks which leads me to my interesting anecdote which is also a testament to military efficiency: the Army just yesterday provided me with the RFI issue stuff I was supposed to get when I first showed up in Fort Drum, about 9 months ago. RFI shit happens to include the brand new advanced cold weather gear that may have come in handy during the subzero, lake-effect snowstorm driven seven month winter I just made it through.
Oh well. I'm certain it will prove its use in Louisiana in the summer. I mean, that is to say in the Iraq.
Yes.
- spiff sets his blaster on 'medium well'
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| Spiff heaves the bomb. |
[22 Jun 2009|09:41pm] |
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mood |
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I always get mildly depressed the night before I go back to work on the weekends. There's this mentality that exists, best summed up by Calvin: "Between now and bedtime, I have to squeeze all the fun possible out of every minute! I don't want to waste a second of liberty!"
The Army likes to pepper your pre-deployment training calendar with these gifts. These four day weekends. And that's all well and good and whatever except Army went and fucked it up. I wanted to go home because I haven't seen my family or been to Iowa since last September and it was, of course, Father's Day. So when I first heard about this four day weekend (a month ago) I was obviously very excited.
I had it in my mind that I'd hop on a plane Thursday afternoon and I'd get to see dad on his day, and the rest of the Smiths too. Then the Army, in its infinite wisdom, proceeded to tentatively scheduled a completely worthless dinner event that may or may not have been occurring on the Thursday night I wanted to buy plane tickets for. I couldn't buy them until they decided on a time for that event, because in the Army - dinner get-togethers are mandatory. So I waited. For when, or whether or not it was actually occurring. I just sat around checking Orbitz (then Kayak) every night for 2 weeks watching the price rise from $240 to $876 dollars last week, once the word came down about the event time.
At this point, despite my intense desire, I restrained myself from spending a month's rent to go to Iowa for 3 days.
Anyway, I was in the denial phase of grieving my failed family trip home until sometime late Saturday morning. So, my days off tempered by an aching nostalgia about being back at home, I spent the last three days reading Calvin & Hobbes, listening to Mellowdrone and re-playing KOTOR for the 50th time. Because I miss what my life was 5.7 years ago, apparently.
Usually I would just dump all this on Jenny, but she's spending the week in Hawaii with her family, and Hawaii is like six hours behind New York. So she's out doing what one does in the mid-afternoon when you're a native of Hawaii in Hawaii, and I'm here staring at my cheap air conditioner and wishing I didn't have to get up for work in like six and a half hours.
It strikes me as absurd that I'm going to see my family more during the year I'm in Iraq than I will have during the year I've been in New York. (As a result of two week's mid-tour leave.)
August 22 - September 7 is my next extended break from work, and I'm sure as hell coming back then. Jenny and I will be road-tripping all the way from the East Coast to the Midwest and spending two weeks sleeping on the floor in my parents house while we prepare for my grandpa to get married again. Zoos, cornfields and Ramsey - oh my. Coincidentally, my birthday and my grandpa's wedding are to occur on the 5th of September, so sent cakes are encouraged, whether they have candles or a bride and groom on top.
Sigh. 620 days left.
- the sun burns so bright. it might just melt my eyes. remember, i will always love you.
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| DEATH TO THE TRAITOR. |
[21 Jun 2009|11:16pm] |
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mood |
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I adore reaching this stage in my relationship with my parents. Where the people who once spanked me for using the word 'crap' can hear me say "I'm serious, she got me to buy fucking TOFU" and laugh right along with me without registering the swear.
My parents are amazing.
And so is life.
And Iran. God, those people define amazing.
- The president doesn't know who I am.
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donniesaur's journal