....."and people shall wander too and fro, and knowledge shall be increased."

by Erik C Petterson on Tuesday, March 29, 2011

 

 When I was in Bosnia for the third time in 1998, (Operation Joint Forge) our LRS company performed active patroling throughout our sector, to include "outside" our area of operation. Freedom of movement was the theme we Multi-National Forces pushed upon the Serbs, croates and Muslims, and also expected to have.  Everyone used the IEBL (Inter Entity Boundry Line) and the ZOS (Zone of separation).  I found that our NATO Allies in the Multi-National force were the worst cry babies if one of us "Americans" came into their sector conducting patrols without informing them of our business first. Not only did we have "Intelligence gathering issues" with our NATO brothers and sisters, but also from within our own ranks. One particular situation showed me the break down of OPSEC and intelligence discipline within our own military. As I mentioned our company was actively patroling and or in established hide sites overwatching NAI (Named area of Interest) for PIFWC (Personel Indicted for War Crimes). We would leave Eagle Base, Tuzla Main, and depart to Camp Montgomery, where our squads would stage their operations from and could come and go as they pleased in order to conduct the mission better. Well, the American Commander of  Camp Montgomery, could close the camp at will, based upon increased THREAT levels in the area. Now basically, our patrols were not supposed to be effected by Camp gates closing, as our Mission was actually performed "outside" the confines of the Camp. The Commander, however, gave orders refusing to allow anyone to leave or enter the Camp once he "locked it down". This created a problem.  Our Mission was a classified  and sensitive in nature,  a "need to know mission" outside the wire, and a Friendly Forces Camp Commander is not privy to  what our specific mission is before, during, or after we slip outside "Friendly Forward lines."  Our Lieutenant, then Captain, then the Major to include our Brigade Commander tried dialogue with the Camp Commander, to no avail, as the Camp Commander was adamant about not allowing our soldiers on Camp Montgomery to conduct any missions, until he was briefed as to the nature of this classified mission. This opened the loop wider for another "doesn't need to know" person to enter into our business. Speaking purely Text Book (or Ranger Handbook)  our patrol was only allowed to share intelligence we gathered while on patrol that  specifically pertained to the FFL Cmdr's Area of Operation. (which was directly outside the wire and surrounding area).  This exchange of information on the battlefield was performed as a courteousy to the Cmdr in order to help him draw a better picture of what was actually in his Area of operation. This exchange was implied sharing of information.  However, our principal mission was still "Classified" and wasn't to be shared with the Cmdr, his cronies, or the Muslim wash women at Camp Montgomery.  I was shocked to finally learn however, that my Brigade Commander capitulated and satisfied the Cmdr's curiousity and  briefed him on our mission just so this petty invalidated Camp Commander would allow us freedom of movement in and out of  Camp.  If my Brigade Commander had not shared this Classified information, then our surveillence Teams would not have been welcome to stage missions from this Camp. This demonstrated to me that our Army was changing, changing in a "Bad way". Now anyone with a little power (and a lust for knowledge) could strong arm others to share intelligence they are not privelaged too.  This was a horrible demonstration of how a Camp Commander could reduce a Team effort  into a petty, divisive, squabble  for selfish reasons. Just to demonstrate an abuse of his power, or flex his Muscle. This behavior cut against the grain of Military Doctrine.  This was the beginning of the end for our miltiary as I saw it back then. I thought the Gulf War had produced some real issues, but not to the extent the Operation in Bosnia erroded our Military bearing. More over, "common sense" ( the 5th rule of Patroling) was being ignored.  Bosnia was a debacle of Officers trying to feather their nests with "weeds" from an exasperating, thankless peace keeping operation.  Our doctrine was tweeked.  New   Acronyms emerged. We joked about Staff Officers changing words and phrase's in order to receive a "Center mass" comment on their OER (Officer Evaluation Report) as befits the "Tactical situation". Someone changed "Happy" to "Glad" in order to receive 15 of minutes fame. The Special Forces Community was also affected by the intrusion of the conventional Army ( and it's Intelligence community) upon their specific areas of operation within the Bosnian Theater. Special forces teams I met could be professional, or a bunch of cowboys, depending on where they were, and of course their leadership.  I was told by my SF buddy Captain E, "Don't fuck the help, Erik." We dont fuck the help". Which simply meant that Captian E and his men,( while living in a safe house, with a maid, cook,and  laundress) that one should find entertainment elsewhere and not at "home."  Captian E related a case in point; one SF team member was screwing a Serbians wife. The Serb got wind of it, and tried to blow up the garage of the safe house. Another Serbian man (whose old lady was servicing a SF guy) attempted an attack on the Team member with a Machetee.  Soldiers are human, and can be tainted, become jaded by either having too much, or too little.  Special Forces community while deployed is privy to alot.  Some of those with too much just dont know how to handle what they got, usually are sloppy keeping a good thing a secret (it is hard to hide limburger cheese from starving people). Conventional soldiers when deployed have little, and those who have little, peck around, searching, digging, uncovering and exposing areas that are best left unexposed looking for a crumb.  Basically people who lack luxuries such as  knowledge, good food, beer and sex want to fill that void. Those who have it, don't want to share it, and if they do, it is because they are treating a friend, working a deal, or they "screwed up" and have to share it.  Such is the way of Military Intelligence, Conventional soldiering and Special Operations. We all wish to validate our exsistence. The Camp Commander felt he should know. He didnt want to be an "ignorant Flunky" to some Military intelligence Unit (who may know where the "treasure is buried")  So the Camp Cmdr  decides to "Power out", basically strong arms them into breeching security and informing him on a classified mission.   Sort of on the same lines as what happened in the Movie "Kelly's Heros"...too many people knew the mission,  so the Gold became less valuable to a single persons take as the number of recipients increased.  "A secret is something shared with ten other people."  I personally felt that the selfish actions taken by some officers in command positions, in the  Balkans violated military Doctrine.
My squad/ team was sent to various isolated hilltops, in Bosnia, in 1996, in order to pull security for the RETRANS sites there.  One Hilltop Cmdr, a Lientenant "D" (Female) wouldn't allow us to shower or bath in the Camps small portable shower facility.  She allowed us to send one "detail soldier" each day to ride down on the LOGPACK to help gather supplies and he could shower at that distant camp. The LOGPACKS mission was to bring fresh food, supplies and WATER (for the Shower which we were forbidden to use) back to the Hilltop, and we sent our soldier to help support that, yet we weren't allowed to use the shower we brought the water for.  The LOGPACK convoy was a dirty dusty one both coming and going. So the soldier we sent down to help with the supply detail and allowed to shower, came back covered in dirt and grime again. What a waste!  We guarded the Hilltop personel as they slept. We ate with them when they ate. But we were forbidden to shower in their facility. (Separate but equal?...brings to mind "Jim Crow" practices). Eventually SSG "R" pursuaded Lt "D" to allow us to shower. ( unknown to her, we had already been sneaking showers in her facility)! Apparently one of the other teams sergeants had pissed her off and she banned all our people from using the showers! She gave us the excuse that, "we weren't permanent party", just temporary help. (what a snobby bitch).  A CSM on Camp Victory in Iraq, in 2003-04, adopted the same policy, and wouldn't allow soldiers who werent in his command (i.e. V Corp) to eat in "his dinning facility". He also disqualified soldiers from eating there if they weren't clean (just returned off a mission) were from another base camp, or were wearing "white socks" instead of the issue green / black socks.

I had never experienced a DFAC that was not universally used by ALL American soldiers and not just by a select few. Peace time Army is not the same as WAR.

Many soldiers who werent assigned to V corp were turned away from eating a meal by this CSM. Most Soldiers who were strangers to the Camp, who came from another camp on miltiary business in time of WAR, wanting and needing food, and shelter.  This same type of behavior was also noticed by my Lieutenant and I at 2nd BCT 1st Armor Division headquarters, in Baghdad Iraq. We were shocked to realize how a Unit from our own Division could care less about housing or feeding us when we arrived in their camp for safety over night ( do to several vehicles overheating while on convoy). 2nd BCT just happened to be near, so we pulled in with our Military Police escort. The 2nd BCT CSM was a straight up unfriendly ASSHOLE. We slept on or in our trucks that night, and were bitten by every mosquitoe that wasn't deployed to Taji!!

"It ain't over until the Fat Lady get's SHOT"

by Erik C Petterson on Sunday, March 27, 2011

 

 While in Iraq, (2003-04) I had a LOUSY Combat Service Support Transportation Company Commander (CPT."D") and an equally LOUSY 1SG (1SG "J") who wanted to take soldiers off the road, all because they felt that the soldiers weren't "mission capable" due to  AR-600-9,  "The Army over weight program".  Do to this Administrative action our Commander crippled our manpower, creating more work, in the form of frequent and repeat convoy operations for the other "healthier" soldiers in a dangerous environment.  So my C.O. and 1SG, sent your fat son's and daughters, unarmed, on a bus in a convoy to the "Greenzone" to see an imaginary Dietician for counseling (I personally called the Greenzone medical staff and was informed that they had no Dietician in theater).  I have learned through the years that "what we do in Peace time training, is what we do in War." Evidently all my Commander and 1SG were aware of was Administrative red tape, which they brought in buckets full to the theater of operation.  Soldiers on the Weight control program are under what is called "Adverse" or "unfavorable action"  (meaning they can't receive awards, promotions, etc. because they are FAT or in trouble for some reason).  Had the soldier(s) been killed by an IED or by an Attack upon the Convoy, the soldier who was a ZERO would now become a HERO, and the 1SG and C.O. would promote them and award a them  Bronze Star, and purple heart  "posthumously."   However you would never expect this shit bag Commander to write home to the soldier's Mom and Dad, and tell them the truth. ( the circumstances behind "Why" their son /daughter was killed).   If the Commander did write the parents, the letter may go some what better than my sarcastic attempt here, For example: " Dear Mr and Mrs. Porkrind, I'm writing to inform you that Junior was  "overweight", so I placed  him on AR-600-9- "The Army weight control program" and sent him unarmed on convoy in a Hostile country, through a dangerous area of Baghdad, to see a Dietician. (Because I was eventually gonna "Chapter" junior out of the Army anyway, for looking, fat and unsoldierly)  So now your junior is dead; killed by an enemy IED while junior was on convoy in Baghdad.  Well, Mr & Mrs Porkrind, Junior's no longer a PFC..... because I recommended to the BC (Battalion Commander) to promote him to "Sergeant"...he has a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart accompanying that promotion too." You should be proud of junior! He died serving his country, and safe guarding our way of life! In his death, he brings great credit upon himself, his Unit, his Country and the United States Army.

How many Milligrams is your Babysitter?

by Erik C Petterson on Wednesday, March 16, 2011 at 10:35am

 When I was in Germany some years back, my German friends were shocked when I told them that the Doctor perscribed an Anti-depressant to me with out a physical exam, blood work  or further testing...just took my word that I was "depressed", and gave me a solution: "Prozac"; one of many anti depressants. My European civilian friends couldn't believe that the Doctors weren't going to test futher for perhaps a chemical imbalance, dietery issue, or perhaps some other illness that could be causing my depression etc.. Apparently in Europe, Doctors still want answers and explanations for behavioral and emotional dissorders, before jumping to conclusions by perscribing medication, as they don't wish to perscribe the "wrong medication". (Not every Medication works for everybody and in every circumstance, by the way).   My German friends urged me (fell on deaf ears) to seek another physician (Army doctors say and do the same thing, where was I to go?). Or perhaps that I should take a natural-herbal non pharmeceutical approach ( i.e., St. Johns Wart, Vallarian, etc. at the herbal vitamin store).  Naturally I ignored them, thinking the Military health care system and it's team of trained physicians knew best. Well it turns out,  not just the military but civilian practioners dont have a clue. Especially since our Nation and our Military has more people with behavioral, emotional and mental disorders, then we do physicians or counselors to treat them. Our Nation is swamped, over filled and under staffed to perform "one on one" treatments for each individual person. So "pills" are the immediate answer, pills to help "manage you" until such a time when someone qualified, and not multitasking can attend to you.  A friend of mine is currently in his own "la la land" with all the Anti-"this and that" Medications he is currently taking.  I can see a big difference when he is "off" them as opposed to "on" them. Sure, taking Medication is a trade off  between a numb, dopey life, as opposed to freaking out over small stuff.  I for one have temper issues and misplaced anger due to PTSD.  My buddy has "explosive employee syndrome." (that's another story in itself)  The drugs I take, for example, keep my explosiveness nominally at bay. But the drugs also rob me of what little Joy, and emotions I have left. The very feelings and emotions I am struggling to maintain, are further erroded away, and numbed by the perscription drugs given to suppress my anger! They add to my general dispair. (I am currently five or six different Medications removed from my original perscription of prozac). American Doctors have a love affair with pharmeceutical companies. They appear to be issuing out anti-depressants like candy. The Doctors aren't treating the patients. They just help them cope, and keep the patient managable. Doctors perscriptions are submerging the anger and frustration people are having. Dispensing MED's may be considered "practicing medicine", but it is certainly a far cry from being a caring concerned physician or psycho therapist who is diligently seeking a cure. This is irresponsible drug pushing, pill peddling, providing our former service members and our Nation with placebo "babysitters."   One day there will be a Volcanic explosion of human anger throughout our Nation, a rupture within the flesh and spirit of our society such has never been seen. "A Reckoning"...... I want a cure and help, not a babysitter drug.....

"WAR IS (being in the Airforce) HELL"!!!

by Erik C Petterson on Saturday, March 19, 2011 at 7:28am

 

 In Quatar, at the Airforce Hospital shortly after being MEDEVAC out of Baghdad in 2003, myself and a young wounded Marine were outside smoking, when a Airforce guy comes out of a "shower facility", wearing catch me fuck me shorts, flip flops, an Airforce T-shirt, towel over his shoulder and holding a toiletry bag. He lights up a cigarette, takes a drag, blows it out, and says, "This camping shit sucks".......
The Marine and I looked at him, and then each other, and started to laugh!
"The Marine and I never had it so F__ ing good in our lives!" and here this fricking dead beat, sorry ass, spoiled rotten son of a bitch Airman is complaining!
Screw him, his TDY, and his Statement of "non availabiltiy of quarters."

It's a Dogs life,

by Erik C Petterson on Tuesday, March 15, 2011 at 9:52am

Years ago, when I was roughly 23 or 24,

I had an opportunity to dress up as a large canine (like the dog who takes a bite out of crime) and appear before a group of children at a church meeting. It was strictly volunteer to help a friend out and I didnt do any talking, as my friend gave the presentation. I was there as a "visual aid". After the meeting, I stepped out side the Church, and several of the church children approached me out on the Church Lawn. One began asking me questions, and soon they all chimed in asking me questions, then the questions became demands and the demands became orders; "ordering me" to remove my head or my costume. They weren't happy with my reply, as I politely told them "No", nor did they appreciate an unknown  man's voice coming from a Dog costume, so they began laughing at me, while kicking me in the shin's, stomping on my feet, pulling my tail, and kicking me in the rear end.  (Yes, "church kids", wonders of modern parenting). My cries for HELP were ignored by the parents and laughed at by the children as they collectively knocked me over, continually kicking and punching me. They proceeded to remove my larger than life "Dog Head", when my buddy finally came out side (after being congratulated by the church elders) and saw me on the ground getting my butt kicked by little kids. He saved me. One or two stray neighborhood kids  ran up and kicked at me too,( like an Indian counting coupe)  wanting to feel superior and  bravely boast how they helped toppled the DOG MAN at the local Church. My Point? Well, Adults like children can react to a stranger much the same way. It justs takes a single individuals act of violence, or outrage, to spur the crowd into motion. A collective Mob mentality. And once they have realized the ease in which they can attack their prey they just won't stop until, blood is spilled, someones beaton, raped, dead or dying. In other words "total Victory."   If there is no voice of reason to prevail, no powerfull intervention, then these goals can be realized by the Mob.  I can tell you how frightening it was for me to be set upon by children while adults milled about nearby, thinking it was "cute",  laughing as their Christian children beat down a man in a dog costume. Conclusion: It only takes a spark to get a fire going. and when one disgruntled person opens their mouth to pass judgment on a man or woman's dress or mannerisms, this one comment can be easily "absorbed" by people in the group then potentially escalate from words to actual physical violence directed at the person or persons who were negatively "targeted."   Did I deserve to get beaton down like a "Dog"? (pardon the pun) And, I might add, "beaton down in front of a church, by CHILDREN, as parents ignorantly watched!?"

"Horizontal Bullseye": "Welcome to Iraq, Where Prices are "SADAM INSANE!"...

"Horizontal Bullseye": "Welcome to Iraq, Where Prices are "SADAM INSANE!"...: "During the early stages of my Battalions deployment to Iraq in 2003, My Company Comander Cpt. John Gallagher appointed Lieutenant Ken ..."

"Horizontal Bullseye": The new Corporal Klinger Army

"Horizontal Bullseye": The new Corporal Klinger Army: "Remember the days (good old days) when a soldier wanted to get kicked out of the service, he could always dress up as a women, and admit to ..."

"Horizontal Bullseye": Absolute power, in the hands of absolute idiots, c...

"Horizontal Bullseye": Absolute power, in the hands of absolute idiots, c...: " Let me give you an example of how 'politically correct hysteria' in the hands of small minded, humorless DOD employees, cost me ..."

Absolute power, in the hands of absolute idiots, corrupts absolutely

 

 Let me give you an example of how "politically correct hysteria" in the hands of small minded, humorless DOD employees, cost me my job. Example: one day a colleague of mine, a Civilain DOD  instructor (a real dweeb) made a mistake disseminating information in front of the students.  I quickly walked up to him, pointed my finger like a barrel of a gun at his head, and said; " Bang", one less instructor". The students appreciated the humor, and laughed. My dweebish Colleague felt embarrassed by this so he wrote at Sworn Statement about the "incident".  My idiot boss said that if he had heard about this earlier, he would have called the Military Police and had me physically restrained and escorted off  Ft. Leonard Wood for threatening to take the life of an instructor. I told my boss that my finger wasn't loaded. He also failed to see the humor in that remark.  My Boss didnt question any of the students that were present to get their impression of the "life threatening position" I had placed my colleague under. I have been told be some real idiots with authority that "Perception is reality". I find the band wagon for believing in, and quoting stupid phrases such as this one is over flowing its intended capacity. I ran into DOD employees who are first and foremost "humorless", have a hidden agenda, hold a grudge from when they were unappreciated while on active duty, behave as keepers of some fundamentalist ideals, are closet "cut-throats", fly under the radar but are quick to throw you and anyone else "under the bus" to save themselves and their job. And last, but not least, "real Racists and old world Bigots". I further realized, that  DOD employee's who made attempts at humor, political satire, or who tried to improve the atmosphere and quality of life for the students (students who were stressed out and treated poorly by "humorless instructors") were quickly chastened, labled undesirables, racists, or whatever was necessary to terminate thier employement from  Federal Government Service.  (this shit goes on your Record folks) I spent 21 years on active duty. Was never branded a racist, or called out on any charges. As a Civilian Department Of  Defense employee, working at the same Battalion, performing the same type of job I just retired from while on active duty,  I found I was now put through the RINGER by civilians for actions which were laughed at by serious active duty soldiers. I had never experienced such screwy treatment at the hands of employees driven by fear. Yes "Fear". Fear of being incorrect, Fear of making a decision (making decisions was something I was taught and trained to do while on active duty). Fear of confrontation, Fear of making peace between employees, Fear of  "squeaky wheels, and whistle blowers". Fear of  Fear itself.  Fear of being found out??? Well, Good riddance to bad rubbish.

May I have another shot of that Holy water, Padre'?

 My first visit to a catholic church was at St.Joesph's in Stuart Florida, back in 1983.  As I entered the Church, I observed people reaching into a water basin, and tossing water on themselves. Natrually, I didnt follow suit, as My Mother taught me never to stick my hands in anything other people have touched (for pure sanitary reasons). So By passing the fount, I looked around with amazement at all the satues of Saints, color, and beautiful lavish "sets." I continued slowly walking forward, taking it all in,  looking skyward, at the pendants hanging down then casting my gaze above the alter at the stained glass window, and crucifix when....."Har -rumpf..plop!  I had  "tripped and fallen" over two old Catholic broads who had the nerve to drop and genuflect right  in front of the ALTER!!!  (I mean Come on? Don't they know tourist's visit here?)  From my prone position I looked up to receive hateful and ghastly glares from the two Grandmothers who knelt beside me.  I was so EMBARRASSED (and genuinely afraid for my life) that I almost turned tail and ran out of the church!! I stood slowly, apologizing to the two ugly Garlgoyles that knelt  silently before the Alter of God, their collective stare burning a whole through me, as if to say, "we know who you are, and we know where you live."  I spasticaly turned away quickly shook myself free from a petrified stance, and limped off in shame feeling like I had just been cut from the football team.  My Catholic companions ( already occupying a pew) waved at me snickering, trying to get my attention while not  being obvious about it. ( they didn't want anyone who had witnessed the "accident at the alter" to think that we were friends). Yes, " Friends" who could be held responsible for my conduct in the House of God; "Friends" who could be Stoned beside me).  I reached the pew, and slipped my way past some people until I was reconciled with my friends.  Realizing that I was nervous, my friends thoroughly briefed me  (sort of like an "Actions on the Objective" excerpt from an Army OPORDER) on what I would be expected to do, from kneeling, standing, sitting, and verbally repeating pre-written text from a "missilette" as well as knowing when and where to cross myself.  (I must tell you, I felt like I was in a WWII prisoner escape movie, where I had just been fitted with civilian clothes, documents / papers, a cover story, then sent out to  "blend in" in order make my escape to Friendly forward lines undetected).  "Does the phrase too much Information mean anything to you?" I jokingly whispered to my protector.  "Just follow me,  do as I do", my friend whispered,  "and everything will be fine."  As the Mass began, and progressed, I soon realized that my fears where unfounded. Most of these Catholics could do this in their sleep ( in fact alot of them were doing it in their sleep)! I never saw such haphazzard, going through the motions, movements and gesturing in my life! It was like a bad day at Disney world, in the "Hall of Presidents". Everyone followed a que. No one missed a beat awake or otherwise. And here I was worried about trying to make a good impression. In fact, I believe that I was putting forth more of a sincere effort than most of these "die hard Catholics" were ( including the two old bats I fell over at the begining of this story).  I learned some valuable lessons attending religious services. 1.) I learned that most folks arent paying attention to anyone (to include GOD). 2.)  I learned that immitation is the sincereist form of  flattery. ( going through the motions is the weakest form). 3.)  If I could pass for a Catholic, then heck, I could easily pass as a member of the Knights of the Ku-KLux-Klan! ( All I would have to do is wear a hood, a robe, and carry a torch!  and they wouldn't even require me to say the "N" wow!  How totally simple is that?  4.) I learned that there are times to wear, or be "camoflagued". Well, I had a interesting time in the ST.Joe Catholic Church.  I wasnt crazy for all this kneeling and standing (and I was a young 23 year old at the time).  Basically I was so out of shape....It was like having Richard Simmons as the Priest, and Deal-a- meal was the Communion wafer. I couldn't hang with the floor work......too hard on the knees.

The new Corporal Klinger Army

Remember the days (good old days) when a soldier wanted to get kicked out of the service, he could always dress up as a women, and admit to being a homosexual? That used to be a sure fire way to get kicked out! Well those days are over. There is a new sherriff in town.( and he may be a cross dresser). I find this change in policy distrubing . What will a Heterosexual male who wishes to dodge military service do now to get himself rejected or kicked out of the Army? Heck by all the new standards "nothing".  If he does dress up, he may end up getting a compliment or even asked where he "bought those nice shoes" by his 1SG or Company Commander. He may even receive a  recommendation to attend a local Gay Bar (NCO Club) "Drag Queen review" and encouraged to participate as well as  lip sync to a few Areatha Franklin tunes. And if he wins the lip sync contest, donate the proceeds to the company MWR fund. Or he may save the money up for his battle buddy's sex change operation. ("Sorry...my bad". The sex change will undoubtedly be covered by Tri-west). No matter how you slice it, this is another example of a heterosexual male being prevented  from shirking his duty, making an excuse, or tring to use homosexuality to get the old Army "Section 8."  I just read where the Army will  not be taking a personel "census" to determine the percentage of homosexuals to heterosexuals currently in service. I geuss this means no "Gay History Month??

The Freedom of information act ain't got nothing on me.

Years ago when my family and I were living in Niederseelbach Germany, My wife (now my EX)  and I told my youngest daughter Chantal, that we had the house "bugged" and could hear all the conversations the kids were having ( we lied of course, just to see what Chantal would do, and because there wasn't anything worth watching on TV, and we were bored).  Chantal couldnt wait to tell the others....she was literally "chomping at the bit".  She quickly excused herself and ran up the staircase to the attic bedrooms to tell her Big sister and brother all about Mom and Dad "bugging" the house, and being able to hear everything.

Minutes later (and I mean MINUTES later) my eldest daughter, my son and his buddy Mario, to include Chantal in tow, came bursting into the living room all pissed off demanding the truth and wanting to know more about this invasion of their privacy!
My wife and I kept up with the story.. and told them that, "we knew everything"!!   Suddenly...my son pointed his Finger at Mario and blurted out; "He's GAY, I'm NOT!" in our astonishment, and amazement, my wife and I looked at each other, looked at my son, then Mario, then back at each other, as Jessica and Chantal did like wise. We burst into laughter! and Jessica said," I knew you were gay"! Chantal responded with; "whats that mean?" Mario stood there with a blank expression on his face with nothing to say  while my son still pointed an accussing finger....My Wife and I learned a very valuable lesson that day.

Waiter,.....There's a "Lieutenant" in my Soup.

 A long time ago,(okay..in the early 90's) while I was in HHC 1/502nd Infantry Scout Platoon, I was aquainted with a prior service  Airforce guy, who joined the Army to become an "Infantry Officer."  His name was 2 LT. Wooten and he belonged to Charlie Company, 1/502nd Infantry Regt.,  Ft. Campbell Kentucky. This is his Story. The first Battalion, 502nd Infantry had just completed a live fire exercise on Range 51, which consisted of a trenchline / bunker complex, with a "Faux" Drug cartel Lab thrown in for good measure. Each company within the Battalion took turns landing by Helicopter on a designated Landing Zone (LZ) then led off the LZ by Scout guides (thats were I come in) to a designated Battle position. From there each company assualted the enemy positions, by breeching a wire obstacle, entering the trenchline, sweeping through and systematically clearing with small arms fire and grenades, all enemy personnel (in the form of Dummies) from the trench's and bunker's . They would then finish with the Drug lab scenerio.  After Charlie company ENDEXED (End of Exercise) and completed their After Actions Review (AAR)  they began to account for Men, weapons, and equipment while still on the objective. ( This was crucial as Company Commanders were responsible for reporting as quickly as possible to Battalion Headquarters their status prior to moving off the Objectiive. i.e., Range 51).  Well, as the story goes, one weapon (an M16-A2 rifle) wasn't unaccounted for; you geussed it: "2LT. Wooten's weapon". (inject frowning face here). Everything came to a Screeching halt. Platoon Sergeants instructed their Squad leaders who in turn instructed their team leaders to count again, and physically examine each rifle and Buttstock number, while all the Platoon leaders waited for an "thumbs up". Naturally 2LT Wooten was waiting too, and not just waiting, but being grilled and questioned by his fellow officers and the senior enlisted as to how he lost the weapon, and when he remembers last seeing it  or even "firing it".  Again the count came back...the weapon was still unaccounted for. "Okay Men", shouted the Charlie Company First Sergeant (1SG) ..".lets do it again!"  The Charlie Company Commander just stared grimmly at the ground.  The Non Commisioned Officers's (NCO) repeated the hands on approach, and no one could produce this weapon. Now it was serious. Time was wasting, Charlie Company was holding up the whole Battalion. The shouts went out "" Double arm interval, everyone get on line", which meant that now all of the Men in Charlie , where going to walk abreast of one another, double arms length apart, and comb the objective area to include the far woodline until they found 2LT Wooten's weapon. Being a Scout, my team and I didn't fall under Charlie Company (plus our status had already been sent up to higher). Since we didnt have to really "be anywhere", we hung around to see how things developed (and maybe made a joke or two at the Lieutenants expense).  Given the order, the soldiers walked slowly across the objective, and into the woodline, turned, and walked slowly back again . Still No sign of the weapon. Things were heating up. The Commander was not happy now, as he was looking at a "shitty ending" to a pretty decent live fire exercise. He knew he would have to keep his Men out looking for this weapon. He also knew (as did we all) that no one was going anywhere until the weapon was found. (18th ABN Corp, 101st Division Policy as pertaining to the loss or theft of a sensitive item). Meanwhile the soldiers were begining to mumble as well as exchanging bad jokes, mingled with some "whinning" and a veiled threat or two aimed at 2LT Wooten.   A Loud,  "AT the ___ EASE," exited the First Sergeant's mouth, and could be clearly and distinctly heard above all the negative comments. The men instantly quieted down, like tree frogs that become suddenly startled, but then resume their incessant chirping once again. Charlie Company was on its "third Pass", slowly and painfully crossing the objective again.  For some unknown reason, the Third Platoon Sergeant "had a Feeling", and approached 2LT Wooten. He asked him again if he was able to recall anything significant about how he lost his weapon. Wooten did his best to accomodate, began retracing his steps verbally when the Platoon Sergeant interrupted him; "What is the Buttstock number on that weapon, Sir?"  "Eh, well, let me see", responded the Lieutenant," its eh"......his voice trailing off......"Is it number 116, Sir?"  interjected the NCO ." Eh Well Yes. number 116... I think,"  replied the Lieutenant . "This #$%  number 116, SIR?"  screamed the NCO, as he grabbed and shook the Buttstock of the missing weapon slung over the Lieutenants shoulder. "THIS @#$% WEAPON SIR?," he repeated loudly.   I never thought one could hear a "pin Drop" in the Forest.  It seemed like an eternity before some Private breathed the first heavy sigh of relief, followed by snickers, and several "What the @#$ ?".  What made this event truly memorable, was that not one soldier out of a Company of 130 enlisted men and Officers, noticed that 2LT Wooten had his weapon slung across his shoulder.   I was very surprised to learn later that the Charlie Company Commander didn't order 2LT Wooten to attach a "Dummy Cord" (Ranger assist Cord for those who are PC) to his weapon from then on.

"Stand and Deliver"!

  I took a crap in Iraq. In fact, I Gave Iraq 15 months of toilet training. Funny, never follow an Iraqi into a Port-a-Let, after he does his business. Westerners use toilet paper and sit during this procedure. desert Dwellers use the left hand and a Gallon jug of water while standing and aiming into a hole...sounds like a circus act. (come in Tokyo, come in Tokyo).

  In 2003, When my Battalion first entered Baghdad, we found some Iraqi barracks facilities partially bombed out. Like all curious soldiers we went exploring for disgarded equipment. Upon entering the Bathrooms, we found the Toilets to be unused and in pristine condition and the stalls immaculate and clean. Upon closer inspection of the Shower Room, we found the Drain caps removed and human feces jammed down the drains. (Obviously, these people knew what a hole was for but not a toilet). The showers were useless to Iraqi's for anything but crapping in. This is just the tip of the Iceburg of cultural differences...... We had alot of broken Port-a-Pottie seats in our base camp because of the Local nationals "Standing on toilet seats" to defecate.  First Sergeant  M_  (1SG) of our Forward Logistical Element, wouldn't accept that Iraqi's were breaking the toilet seats. He woud have emergency meetings, even Company formations, where he would go on and on about we soldiers "screwing our buddies over" wanting the culprits to come forward. He told all the NCO's to find out who the soldiers were that were standing on the toilet seats and bring them to him ASAP. We  NCO's tried in vain to convience 1SG M_ that it wasn't the soldiers doing but the Iraqi truck drivers. But the 1SG was a stubborn cuss, and wanted to find someone he could personally punish and make an example of. He informed us that he was going to take measures to prevent soldiers from using the  Port-a-potties "unobserved". His plan was to place a guard on the Port-a-potties, and said guard would be responsible for inspecting the seats after each visiter was finished, and apprehend violaters. 1SG M_ was bound and determined to catch an American toilet seat standing soldier. Finally, after weeks of Formations, mass punishments, Fidel Castro length speeches, Threats and promises, and ridiculous Port-a-Pottie Guard duty (which served nothing more then to piss off the soldiers, and make 1SG M_ out to be the unapproachable tyrant that he was) 1LT Fergsuon, SSG Wagoner and I managed to convince 1SG M_ that it was indeed the Iraqi's and not our soldiers who were responsible.

Here is another funny thing: After convincing the First Sergeant that the Local National Truck drivers were to blame, The First sergeant bought off on SSG Wagnor and my idea to introduce and or re-educate the Iraqi's into our "toilet Culture". For the first part of this plan, I  drew pictures/cartoons of men with their man dress hiked up showing hairy bare footed legs, standing on a Toilet seat . I also drew a red circle around the picture, and a Red diagonal line through the drawing (this is the international symbol for "DON'T DO THIS) then I made dozens of copies on my personal printer and posted them on the Port-a-Pottie doors. We even had our interpreters and SSG Wagoner explain and demonstrate the "western pooping procedure". Needless to say, the Potty Training didn't work. Old habits, traditions and  ingrained learning are hard to break. Besides;  toilet paper and sitting down seemed as usefull to them as eating a T-bone steak  is to an astronaut on a space walk.
Here's another disgusting experience:  An Iraqi Army trainee entered the new bathroom facility (built by our Government for use by the "New Improved" Iraqi Army). The trainee actually used the toilet, and did his #2 business. Upon completion of his mission, he exited the stall and approached the sink. The Trainee filled it with water, and proceeded to wash his hand (which he had wiped his rear with) then lifted one leg at a time ( like a contortionist) and washed his feet in that water. When he felt his feet were sufficiently cleaned,  he washed his face in that water. Satisfied that his face was "now clean" the trainee brushed his teeth. He washed his hair, slicking it  back with the same water, then ran a comb through it. (did I mention SOAP being used at any time in this story?)  Life doesn't get any better than in a Desert culture. You got to love it!

"Are you sure I wasn't supposed to use my son's LEGOS to make my uniform with"?

Well, here is a TOP SECRET tid bit of information. The U.S. Army Combined Armed Support Commity, Force Design Directorate, at Ft. Lee Virginia, is "toying" with the concept of using LEGOS as part of their Force protection and equipment augementation plan within the Armed Forces. Apparently the idea of using LEGOs for the department of defense isnt a new concept at all. The ACU (Army Combat Uniform) with it's unique digital cube camoflague design was actually a first generation LEGO LAND design which had been introduced by the  LEGO LAND Research and development teams to our nations Armed forces. Surprisingly this design was adopted and mass produced for wear by our soldiers in Selective service. The United States Marine Corps were the first to actually field test and mass issue LEGO LAND Camoflague. Shortly thereafter, the United States Army followed "Suit".  Because of the over whelming positve reponse to the LEGO LAND CAMO (LLC) the Force Design Directorate of the Combined Armed Support Commity has been charged with conducting their own research and development into the LLC concept in a far more advanced approach. Large LEGO Kevlar Reinforced BLocks are now being field tested in Afghanistan as field expedient building material. "The blocks are light weight, easy for soldiers to handle, and as any child would tell you, they just snap together," explained Force Design spokes person Cpt. J. McCormick . "You see the respective branches of the Military", Cpt McCormick added, " don't have to spend any addtional training time or monies on instructional materials, as LEGOS are self explanatory and  have been a part of World Culture for well over 50 years". "In additon, every soldier can become an engineer, and build a base camp, as  Force Design foresees very few  limitations (if any) to soldiers other than their individual and collective imaginations".  Radical designs such as LEGO snap together personal kevlar body armer(LBA), (with Ballsitic and caliber protection up grades depending on the weapons threat level)  Vehicle snap together armor to include "LEGO reactive armor" (LRA) for armored vehicles. LEGO Light skin vehicle Armor (LLSVA)   Kevlar reinforced light weight portable protection Blocks for constructing non permanent Shelters, and used in place of Sand bags. Towers, Fences, Road ways, obstacles, these are just a few of the LEGO concepts presently under testing and serious consideration by the Force design Directorate at Ft. Lee Virginia. "This is such a true departure from anything we have previously imagined. Some serious consideration and cost effective proposals have been studied. The LEGO approach is our best bet. Think of the training that is conducted now, by our own children at home?  Our kids are constructing complete facilities out of LEGOS all by themselves. Just imagine what a soldier could do given the same building resources? We would be remiss in our duties, as members of the Armed Forces  if we failed to consider such an option available to us". ( GEN Shenseki, USA, Retired)

Authors Note:
I'm sure our new Camps constructed completely from LEGOS would  be affectionately refered to as "LEGO LANDS".  Or...instead of Life Support areas,  LEGO Support Areas (LSA).

"Welcome to Iraq, Where Prices are "SADAM INSANE!"

During the early stages of my Battalions deployment to Iraq in 2003, My Company Comander Cpt. John Gallagher appointed Lieutenant  Ken Ferguson and I, and our Platoon (2nd Platoon Bravo company, 123rd MSB) to operate out of the 123rd Main Support Battalions LRP ( Logistical Release Point also known as the Forward Logistical Element "FLE") in B.I.A.P.( Baghdad International Airport). Actually we'd be the Bravo company slice element from the Battalion, running the transportation assests, in support of, and in conjunction with, Major Dean of the SPO (Support Operations). Our main responsibilty: " Pushing out (at a minimum) three (3) convoys a day". We would  provide delivery of Class I - IX  to three Forward support Battalions (FSB) within the Baghdad area of Operation.  1LT Ferguson and I were augmented by an additional squad or two from each transportation Platoon, to aid in this monumental feat. Keep in mind, Bravo Company, 123rd Main Support Battalion, was the ONLY transportation Company organic to the 1st Armored Division. Yes that's correct, chances are you got your Chow, water, weapons, armored HMMWV's, etc. from our logistical release point. We wouldn't have had to travel and be exposed to IED's so much,  if the FSB's had done their templated jobs, and pushed their transporters to our location (as is Army SOP) and picked up their own supplies. But as is with many frightened leaders, they think to change a pre exsisting operational procedure to  protect their soldiers, thus protecting themselves and their career.( chasing the Officer Evaluation Report, OER). So the soldiers of Bravo company 123rd MSB, were placed in harms way on a daily basis to ensure our Brothers in Arms on the FSB's were clothed and fed properly. Talk about stress. Well, during one particularly hot miserable morning,  1LT Ferguson took off on one of the three convoys to 501st FSB. In those early days, Ferguson impressed Major Dean by coming up with a viable plan for launching two (2) convoys in the early morning hours.  Departure time for two (2) convoys would be scheduled for 0700 hours,  the third convoy would depart later in the morning, as one of the first convoys would returned early (as the distance to 125 FSB wasn't far) and we could then place a fresh crew in the trucks and launch this third Convoy. 1LT Ferguson led the farthest convoy to 501st FSB on this particular day. My story actually begins upon his return to BIAP. 1LT Ferguson came bursting into the 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company shop Van, excited as I had never seen before, waving an object in my face, telling me to get off the computor, as he had  something of extreme importance to share with me. Some how Ken had bought two Compact Discs (CD) from an Iraqi vender at 501st FSB. Compact disc's which the Iraqi's had told 1LT Ferguson, contained videos of Sadam. Here is how the whole story went down: "Sergeant Petterson, Sergeant Petterson", Ken breathlessly blurted out, "look what I got!" ( He held up two shiney CD's). "These Iraqi workers approached me, saying "SADAM,  SADAM" over and over again, and showing me a shoe box full of CD's," he said while gleefully  inserting his SADAM CD into the laptop. "So I decided I would buy a couple and see what was on them! "If they are cool videos of Sadam," he went on to explain, "I'll go on convoy tomorrow and buy some more!"  "Sergeant Petterson",  Ken said matter of factly, "we may have some really rare videos here"!  So Being the good supportive Platoon Sergeant that I was, I thought perhaps  maybe Ken did stumble on something cool. Heck, the Iraqis were selling Bayonets, Old Iraqi money, and Pepsi's on the road sides, so why not CD's of Sadam Hussein?  We were already familiar with Boot leg Copies of Movies (the kind filmed before a live theater audience, complete with audience laughter, and people walking past the screens)  So why not Videos of Sadam in all his Glory??   1LT Ferguson was searching  for the beginning of the CD, the menu, and it wasn't showing up, all that happen was a Movie began to play.  "It has to be here somewhere", He anxiously said, as he kept stopping,  ejecting the CD, inserting it into the laptop over again and again.  "It has to be on here,"  Ken said sternly (almost ordering Sadam to be on the CD) " I didn't pay two dollars for a dumb movie!  "Hey Sir", I said calmly, "let the damn movie play and see what we got here, okay?  So Ken allowed the movie to begin. As we both peered at the screen it didn't take long to realize what the movie was about.  As Ken pressed his face closer to the screen (as though by doing this he could some how magically "summon" Sadam to appear) a naked woman instantly appeared, bent over a bed, with a naked man "drilling her" from behind (and not in the... eh.... "correct orafice"). "Its a Porno Sir", I exclaimed, " and she's taking it from behind!"  "No way!" Ken said adamantly," No @#$% way!"  He angrily began "fast forwarding" the CD to a part where he might find Sadam Hussein. As the images flashed by at wharp speed all I could tell was there was some serious hard core porn going on. (To HELL with Sadam Hussein I thought)! Almost all the scenes depicted woman being Sodomized...hmmmmm?..This popped a light bulb on in my head." Hey Sir" , I said in my smart ass manner, "What did these Iraqi's tell you again? "Sergeant Petterson",  (I could hear the indignation in Ken's voice now, as his temper began to simmer) " The Local Nationals", he explained, as he continued to fast forward the CD, " said, that Sadam, Sadam was on here."  1LT Ferguson kept up doggedly by-passing all the "back door action"  to  pursue this fabled Sadam Hussein Character. "Sir," I jokingly said," If the United States Army can't find Sadam Hussein in Iraq, what makes you think you're gonna locate him in this Porno?" "Thats not Funny Sergeant P..",  1LT Ferguson said angrily, still fast forwarding, as men and woman flipped across the screen having SEX at lightening speed. "Look Sir", I interjected,  "It's PORNO",  " Give it up! The Iraqi's obviously sold you some PORN!"  Just then the Shop van door burst Open and there stood Sergeant Wagoner assitant truck Master. "You guys Got PORN?"  Wagoner shouted.  "NO!" , Ferguson injected firmly. "Yes we have Porn." I said, "well the Lieutenant does anyway."  "It's NOT MY PORN!", It's not anyones PORN!  Ken shot back in frustration.  SSG  Wagoner slipped into the Shop Van closing the door behind him. "Can I watch it when you are through?" Wagnor drooled. "ITS NOT PORN!" Ferguson barked! " Hey Wagnor", I said, (again in my smart ass manner) "what do you call it when a woman is taking it up the bum?."  "Sodomy", He replied excitedly, "You got that on there too ?"   "NO",  Ferguson blurted out again", "It's not PORN, It's Sadam.... SADAM!!!  Ferguson was really beginning to boil now, face inches from the screen,fast forwarding, reversing, jumping back and forth, fruitlessly trying to prove to himself that somewhere, either in  military posture or perhaps in the thro's of fornication, SADAM HUSSEIN was on this CD!  " Look Wag's",  I chuckled, "The Iraqi's were selling these CD's and saying SODOM, SODOM, and Lieutenant Ferguson here thought they were saying SADAM,SADAM, ha ha ha ha,  not Real hard to figure out, huh?"   Mean while, back at the ranch,  1LT Ken Ferguson keep searching (now on his second CD) while Wagoner and I talked about how we were going to copy and distribute the Porn to other deserving soldiers in the command. NOTE:  If SSG Wagoner and I hadn't intervened and physically stopped him, 1LT Ken Ferguson would still be searching for Sadam until this very day (I'm glad he only bought two CD's, that was enough torture he put himself through).....Lieutenants, sigh. (Greatfull acknowledgement and thanks to the soldiers of the 101st ABN DIV for actually "finding Sadam"...in a hole, and not on a Iraqi bootleg copy of a Porno movie).