The best Wal-Mart in the whole world!

The best Wal-Mart in the whole world!

We have been told that we aren’t even allowed o go to the Wal-Mart 3 miles from the gate.  It is the closest store by 30 minutes and the nearest Post Exchange (as opposed to the “mini-Post Exchange at North Fort Hood) is 45 minutes or more away.  But that isn’t what makes it special for a Wal-Mart.

If you have ever been to a Wal-Mart (and there are some who never have!) you know that they are frequented by people who are downtrodden, poor, “productive” family wise and sometimes immigrants or lesser educated from outward appearances.  The stores tend to be large busy affairs where they sell almost everything you could want in limited selections and “everyday low Wal-Mart Prices!”

In Alabama (Ozark, Enterprise and Dothan) and California (Garden Grove, Long Beach, Clovis) the stores are hotbeds of activity.  Almost like Costco in California on a Saturday when it is packed with people from open to close.  Always busy, always a little frantic and always feeling like you are a small ant in a big ant pile (think Alabama red fire ants.) 

Nice brown floors with wide aisles and a look sort of like an upscale Target. But (maybe it is the desolate location and deprivation) I actually associated it with a Macy’s.  A new color scheme of warm inviting colors, wide aisles, attractive displays and end-caps and you want to say “Wow!”

But the real clincher was the restrooms.  I am not a bathroom snob by any means.  I have used the toilet stall in the condemned Boondocks building that e are using for operations.  I have been in Home Depots and even Del Taco’s (can I have a token please?)  But the men’s bathroom had a valance over the mirror.  Clean beyond spotless.  The crowds were small (granted it was in the late evening when most small towns have long since rolled up the sidewalks) the people were pleasant and over multiple visits I have come to the same conclusion:  This is the nicest Wal-Mart I have ever seen or been in.

Obviously if I am relegated to writing about a large retail establishment that sells routine products….one I supposedly am forbidden from even going to regardless of my needs….and then commenting on the clean inviting atmosphere of it all one of two things is happening:  I enjoy a well run retail operation and wonder why NFH isn’t run the same way….or I am becoming delusional and my psychosis is kicking in.  Or maybe both. 

“Fun Run?! Are you F&*#ing Kidding me?"

“Fun Run?!  Are you F&*#ing Kidding me?  Who the &#%$ thought up that idea?”

“Gee whiz!  Don’t you think that is a little harsh?”

“Flock no!  It is stupid!  I told them it was stupid.  The day before we freaking leave?  Somebody could be injured or something.  I can’t run.  But what bunch of B&%$ S#&*!”

Some people really know how to express themselves with nuance, grace and aplomb.  Then there are guys who really should have been in the Navy…

I know, for a casual reader running a “voluntary” run for “fun” seems like a nice idea.  And when it is all over it will be looked back at fondly as a moment that redefined again the same definition you previously had; insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.  For Soldiers who have been out and about (or are over 50) the natural reaction is a negative one.  Selfish, self-centered, health conscious though we might be, the immediate thoughts are: it will be cold; it will be dark; it will be painful; it will be early; it will affect my beauty rest; somebody will get hurt just before they can go on leave;  it will be faster than I can run; it will hurt. Fun and Run rhyme but you really can’t use them together (especially in the army!)

Run about 3 miles in a temperature above freezing with a little wind chill.  Fortunately somebody decided to wait until the sun came up.  I think it helped.

Look at it another way: 

At 20 Soldiers are excited and happy!  They joined the army and are doing “Army” stuff, like getting up early and doing exercise!  It makes them feel strong, motivated and ready to go serve their country.  Their bodies heal in a day, they can run like the wind, they can run and chant and feel like a part of a greater organization.  They even say stuff like “Hooah!”  and “Hoooooooaaaaaahhhh!” and can use that word as a noun, adjective, verb, participle and preposition (think George Carlin and the F-word.) 

                                                                                             

At 30 a Soldier has made the transition from running like the wind to running with the wind.  They get up early to change diapers and make breakfast for their kids. They are in the Army still and proud of their service but a little of the shine is gone and like silver that is a little tarnished you can still see the silver, but it is tarnished beyond normal use.  Every so often you break out the silver polish (Tarn-X?) but for the most part it stays in the drawer.  They serve with pride and are ready to go when ordered but are less likely to volunteer for a tough assignment (like Iraq or Afghanistan).  Their bodies heal in a week or two and they work hard to just stay in shape.  They run on their own, work out at the gym instead of with a group when possible and stay away from running in formation chanting and running their mornings away.  They can still “Hoooahh!” on command or when needed and sound very convincing to their subordinates or superiors that they are still “in the game”, but it isn't sustainable for most beyond a few minutes, days or weeks.

At 40 good Soldiers understandably take a rather dim view of running for “fun”.  Drinking is for fun; getting your wife to show a little affection is “fun”; watching professional athletes plow into each other at breakneck speed throwing and catching balls is fun.  Even screaming at your kids to make that shot, run faster, push harder and “really make it hurt!” is fun.  But for me the F and U still stand, but the N is missing replaced by any number of other letter combinations.  Freaking Unbelievable is one word choice….

At 50 most Soldiers know better and get a Profile.  A medical note that says you don’t have to run.  If you are really determined you get one that says no running, push-ups, sit-ups or marching (or any exercise at all.)

But some of us keep trying to fake it; 50 is the new 30…in our minds.  Just don’t make me prove it!  

So when I mentioned t to Young Matthew he sent me an email giving thoughtful reflections on this type of event.

“Hahahahaha......yup, getting better everyday and got the stuff
down...looking forward to your next blog...wow, I didn't know "fun" and
"run" went together in the same sentence...i'm assuming this is Ruckeresque "mandatory fun", huh? Awesome...yea, I got a great idea, lets all get in our PT's with color coordinated PT belts and go run in the f'in bitter cold right before we get to go home and enjoy the holidays with our families...YES!!! that's EXACTLY what I want to do the day that I leave!!!  Dirty another set of uniforms instead of prepping and packing to go home...Lord, help us....”

Y.M. has a way of expressing himself that I find refreshing.  Ah! Youth!

So even I took a stab at it.  I talked to the person who I surmised had thought this idea up.  Oops!  Wrong!  So after a short discussion that went something like this;

“Are you serious?  Bad news travels a lot faster than good news.  Is this going to be 3.6 miles?  Some people can’t run that far!  Is it mandatory?  Is it in formation?”

“You are the 5th person to tell me it is a bad idea, but…Oh come on!  It will be fun!  And it is only going to be a 5K.  You don’t have to run, you can just cheer!  The army always has stuff that you attend and it sounds terrible, but it is always okay!”

“Sure.  And I always participate, but it just seems like this wasn’t staffed very well.  It just seems like the three of you said “What a great idea!” without any vetting or staffing on how to make it better or make sure it meets your end state.  Can I make a few suggestions on how to make it better?”

Everybody is ultimately a team player and a week later (like we had a choice) went out there to greet the sun and cheer on the brave ones who could run and loved it.  It was a little chilly.  After the “Open” group took off the next group was waiting in the cold. They kept them waiting 10 minutes so they didn’t interfere with the fast runners.

Some units ran as a group and there was pretty good participation.  But for those over 50 who can barely run 2 miles with a tail wind after a through warm-up thought discretion was the better side of valor and moved out smartly to the dining facility and breakfast.  Everybody was in a great mood overall.  I am not sure was it the run or that we were all heading home for our Christmas pass but we were almost all cheerful. Except for a few malcontents who complained of the bitter cold it was another great, successful team building success story.     

“Sir, I just wanted to tell you that SSG’s …..son was murdered last night…”

“Sir, I just wanted to tell you that SSG’s …..son was murdered last night…”

That is the call you never want to get.  We are on a Christmas pass and it is the day after you travel and your Soldier had his son murdered. 

But it isn’t about me.  It wasn’t my son. They are over there on the couch and the chair watching a movie and Face booking his friends.  It isn’t my daughters either and my wife is reading Jeff Miller in the Sports section of the OC Register and she is already crying.  Jeff Miller makes athletes human.  I want to be Jeff Miller.

My cell phone rang and it was one of my favorites (Caller ID: I am so lucky in my section that they are ALL my favorites) and I can tell it is Ms. Ramirez, Warrant Officer extraordinaire; tough, professional, compassionate and mother of a son.  She has elected to take her pass over New Year’s because somebody has to stay back and guard the helicopters, be in charge of the troops staying back and generally be available.

“Hello Ms. Ramirez! Good morning!  How are you and how can I help you!”(Calls like this can never be good news but…I was not thinking about that at the time.

“Good morning sir, but I have some terrible news.”  Straight, direct and to the point; I like that about her, but right now I would prefer she beat around the bush.  Instead it is straight to business: “Sir, Staff Sergeant ….called and his son was murdered last night.  He still wants to deploy.  He just wants time to bury his son.”

Pause.  Not too long.  I can cover my emotions for this stuff for at least a few hours.  It is when I type it out that something gets in my eye and I need to pause for a minute.  It happened a couple times today as I made my way through the day.  This is what real life is about.  I am over fifty and have seen enough people die unexpectedly.  Murders, suicides and of course aircraft accidents (plenty of those) if I never know someone in another that would be fine with me, but I doubt we will be so fortunate.  So you hold your emotions and try to figure out what the emotion should be later.  Too many times it is not there.  Not enough.  It is just a problem to solve, an issue to work through, and some tears welling up here and there.  No sobbing for me.  I don’t know why.  My day hasn’t come yet, but I am getting closer. 

I miss my Mother-in-law sometimes.  I saw a Toyota Camry today (her car, same color, same hair from the back and the same terrible driving position.)  So sometimes I can miss people.  But mostly it just sits deep inside in there somewhere. Another sniffle.  Hate that!  Back to business.

“Sir, Mike Kelly.  Sorry to call you but I have bad news.  SSG’s …. Son was murdered last night.  I know you live in the same town as he is…they need a Red Cross message sent…I just want to make sure everything is taken care of if needed.”

The XO explains the process and how it will work.  I just ruined another Christmas.  Well, maybe it made us appreciate that much more the blessings we have.

Treasure every moment; pray for blessings and mercy on the family; and have a very merry Christmas.  

“I want somebody who I know will kill the enemy…”

“I want somebody who I know will kill an enemy without a problem, hesitation or remorse if required”, Doug was telling me.  Another late night conversation speculating on the really important issues of life (excluding God, the afterlife and true questions of faith) when we should be sleeping.  “I want a leader who if they have to will shoot them dead and just keep on moving.  No tears, no second thoughts at the time.  Somebody who can make a decision!”

“Is that it?  Anything else you want from a leader?”

“Yeah!  I want a guy who if we are in combat and one guy gets killed like say, Morales, he says, “Well.  Damn!  That sucks!  He was a good guy and I am going to miss him!  Johnson!  Get your ass up here and move out!  You are in charge of this now!  Or maybe Hey!  Jones!  Get the radio off of Morales and let’s move out!”

“Do you think you can tell who can do that and who can’t in this group?”

“Yeah.  You know we were making a list in the shop.  People who we would go with no problem and some others who, hmmm, well we have a little doubt.”

“Don’t elaborate on names.  I don’t want to know, except where do I fit in?”

“You?!  Oh yeah.  No, you are okay.  I know you would have no problem with either of that.  I want a guy like in “Blackhawk Down”, that Battalion Commander?”

“I didn’t see it.  I don’t want to watch Blackhawks get shot down.”

“Well, the rangers are driving on to rescue those guys and there are bullets flying and shit all over and he is just standing there all calm directing people to do this and that, picks up a wounded guy, throws him in the back and then stars directing guys again.  Or like in “Saving Private Ryan” that opening scene where the radioman gets his face blown off and he says it, like, “Johnson!  Smedlys dead.  Get the radio and let’s go!  That is what I want in a leader.  I don’t have to like him but I need to trust that he will do the right thing.”

“I think that is what we always wonder about.  If the bullets are flying and people are dying who will keep leading?  I don’t want to see your list.  I already have my own.  And you and all of your team I know are on it.”

“I know its cold out here, but I really need you to stay focused!”

MRAP Roll-over training.  Or, excuse me, I know the schedule calls it rollover training but the instructor calls it “emergency evacuation training” as though there is a noticeable and significant difference.

You might know that the army had a problem with improvised explosive devices (IED) blowing up vehicles and it was a major source of death and maiming in all the services.  A cynic would say that as the more senior guys got affected it became a little more of an issue, but I am not a cynic.  Eventually the army started to make up-armored HMMWV to better protect Soldiers as they drove through towns.  The armor and ballistic glass stops bullets up to .30 caliber (7.62 mm) which is so much better than the protection offered by the rubberized canvas doors which can stop a BB from 20 feet.  

The up armored HMMWV became a priority not from the army brass (brass because the officer’s ranks are made of metal, originally brass and now aluminum)  but because some Soldier stood up when then Secretary of the Army Donald Rumsfeld was asked a question in open forum by a young specialist named Thomas Wilson about when they could get vehicles with better protection (since Soldiers were rummaging through garbage dumps for anything they could weld on the sides of their vehicles for some layer of protection that was better than canvas:  the enemy wasn’t shooting at us with BB guns).  The news media picked it up (since Mr. Rumsfeld didn’t have an answer and didn’t know there was a problem)   and suddenly protecting our troops with armored doors and protective bottoms became very important.

Once protection moved into the high priority the call went out for a vehicle that is armored on the side AND protects well from explosions from below (like I.E.D.s) American ingenuity (or was it British?) developed a family of vehicles that have a boat shaped hull that is raised much higher than normal above the ground to deflect and diminish any explosions from IEDs.  They worked well and that is a success story. 

Unfortunately the law of unintended consequences rose up and we had a new problem.  The new vehicles (called MRAP as an acronym, meaning Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) have such a high center of gravity and such a large weight that they have a tendency to roll over (hence the term “roll over training” when driven fast, turned moderately hard or near unimproved banks on ditches or water sources, when the ground gives way and the vehicle rolls over).  Soldiers were drowning in the lakes and canals, gunners (they have a gun and the gunner’s head and torso are exposed somewhat when rolling) were getting crushed and killed.  Soldiers weren’t trained on how to get out nor how to properly handle such a large vehicle with commercial truck tires, improved chassis, high center of gravity and large weight.  It was an ugly picture!

So the army came up with a solution:  better training of both drivers and any Soldier who might ever be a passenger in an MRAP (which are a primary means of transport for mid-level VIPs and commanders when aircraft can’t get them where they need to go.)

In Kuwait (on your way into country) they have an 80 hour drivers training course to cover the special vehicle limitations and ensure the driver can safely handle the vehicle assuming all they have ever driven is a HMMWV  or possibly a souped up 200o Honda Civic .  But that still doesn’t take care of the Soldiers.  In our case over 2000 of them at NFH.

That is where the mandatory MRAP rollover emergency egress procedure comes in.  The class began in a crowded classroom for some instruction that convinces everybody that they need this training.  To get the class started the instructor went through a process of humorously asking questions of Soldiers questions and generally making fun of different things, primarily emphasizing that we weren’t there for rollover training…

“Who wants to tell me why we are here today!  (a hand is raised) How about you Sergeant!  Why are we here today?”

“I am a specialist, Sergeant!”

“Yeah.  But you want to be a Sergeant someday, right?  I am going to call you sergeant.  Is that okay?  And stand up when you answer a question…Oh!  You ARE standing up!” (There is laughter from the group because the Soldier was short and she was a little reticent.)

“Yes Sergeant.  We are here for M-RAP training Sergeant”

“Close.  Very close.  Who else knows?  How about you Sergeant Major?”

Sergeant Major Darlington stood up in the back.  He is a barrel-chested NCO with a great attitude, strong personality and somebody everybody would love to have on their team. “We are here for M-RAP roll over training, Sergeant!”

“Why don’t you come on up here and bring a friend and I am going to teach you about rollover training!”  The Sergeant Major went up with the First Sergeant, a big, tall fellow and they stood there for a second and the Sergeant in charge said, “Now you two lie on the ground.  They paused, and then good naturedly lay themselves on the ground. “Now you two rollover to the right and yell “Roll over Roll over!” as you do it.  They both started to roll and yell “Roll over! Rollover!” as they rolled right and then rolled back to the left.  The Sergeant told them to stand up and then said “Now THAT was Rollover training!  We are going to do Emergency Egress training for the M-RAP” 

We then proceeded to learn how to react when the MRAP rolled over.  We also learned about the other general information discussed above.  Then it was time to go to the MRAP rollover trainer.  Everybody marched, walked or drove (I drove and followed the commander in his sedan) wearing their IOTV (Improved Outer Tactical Vest) and helmet.  The IOTV is like armor that you wrap around you and weighs about 60 pounds depending on your size (XX Large like the Sergeant Major and the First Sergeant are more than 70).

The temperature was cool and getting colder.  The sky was overcast, the temperature was dropping and the wind was blowing a gentle 5-7 knots.  In the cold wind chill makes everything a little colder.

Since they can only do one group at a time and each group takes about 20-30 minutes I arranged myself into a group where I was the senior ranking officer.  So we discussed that I would be the Tank Commander (TC) which means I get to ride in the right front and am technically in charge of the vehicle and directing proper actions to everybody upon rolling over.  We chit chat about who will be the driver.  I appoint SGT Bell.  I explained that since we were going to roll over it was because of bad driving and the other female Soldier was our gunner…so technically she was the only one available.  Everybody laughed and then we did a short rehearsal (a verbal practice to discuss who does what and possible scenarios for escaping the vehicle.)  Rolling upside down, on one side or another and rolling into water all have different required actions of all occupants (most notably they all involve yelling “Rollover!” to alert everybody that we are rolling over, since in the dark or other conditions (some might be sleeping, darkness, talking on a radio) you want to have as much notice as possible.)  

Then I announced I was going to go back in the car and wait since I had not yet been issued the RFI (the equipment and clothing I would need in Iraq; like a jacket) and invited anybody who wanted to join me to come along.  Everybody said “No” or “We want to wait out here “etc.  But when you are over 50 you know about wind chill, what cold feels like and there are no awards for shivering, getting frostbite or hypothermia.

After about 20 minutes the instructor (one of about 7) came over and said, “Hey sir!  We need to talk to your group and get ready.  Come on out.”  So I did.  Then he started to review what we had already reviewed.  He even thought I was coaching the team as he asked the questions and stood in front of me so they couldn’t see me.  But if you are going to be in charge then you take charge, do what you need to do and then relax.     The instructor went over what we had already covered and then started talking about how it was important that they stay focused and even though it was cold to stay sharp.  When we finished our training we could get into a van for warmth but until we completed our turn we needed to stay outside (in the cold, in the wind and my old muscles just getting stiffer and stiffer awaiting the opportunity to be turned upside down and then use the  muscles to keep myself from crashing to the roof.)

In training environments it is best to do what the instructor says, so I stayed outside and we went over to the side of a building where my team was at least out of the wind and waited and kibitzed.  They were a good group and we were all having fun freezing our ears or hands (I put my hands in my pockets which is a trait I have been unable to break over 30 years, and I want to do better) waiting.  Then the instructor walked over again and said “It is getting kind of cold so if you have a van you can go get into it if you are finished.”  I looked over a t one of my Soldiers who had already finished but was taking shelter from the wind and I gave him the van keys and said, “Here are my keys.  Go get the van and take some people with you!”  

Unrelated to the cold (I am sure) that Soldier was diagnosed later in the say with Strep throat and given 3 days of quarters (stay in bed and rest.)

A few minutes later the instructor comes up and says, “Hey sir, can we use your van to warm up some Soldiers?”  And of course I was already way ahead of him.  It continued to get colder (not freezing cold but incrementally colder and the wind continued to take its toll) and the instructor came over again and said “We got some more vans coming and  you should try to cycle in and out until you have to get out to do the training.”  We moved towards a van and we stood by the side and got in and out staying warm and talking about college and generally exchanging ideas and views on economics, finance and business.  Two Soldiers in the van were in college studying those subjects at Fresno State so we had a great time waiting for the “Rollover Rollover Rollover!”  training.

After participating in the Jingle Bell Run (look for that post…) my Major friend SJ remarked “Man it is cold!  Not as cold as that MRAP training though.  That was terrible!”  I didn’t know exactly how cold because I was in the van, by the building, in and out of the van and generally wasn’t proving to myself (or others) how good I am at dealing with extended cold.  Mainly because I am over 50 and I know better.        

“Everybody gets better looking the longer you are deployed”

Ever wonder why movie stars have affairs with their fellow actors and actresses when they make movies?  It is because they keep working so closely together that the hormones start to kick in and pretty soon they are doing the “…brown chicken brown cow!” (As my son likes to say.) I am not sure what that means exactly, but I imagine it means ruined marriages, jealousy, uncontrollable sexual urges and other unfortunate outcomes.

I think it is safe to say (I don’t want to burst any bubbles) that there are Soldiers having sexual relations in country.  Some Soldiers get pregnant (so far only female Soldiers) and many Soldiers get assorted venereal diseases.  There are condoms readily available so for those who are available and ready to be sexually active.  For those many Soldiers who are happily married, deliriously happily engaged or just not given the proper time or access to the opposite sex (or, as the new law passed the Senate, the same sex) there isn’t a need for condoms.

But through those long lonely nights and fast paced work days an attraction can take hold that can’t be stopped.  General Order #1 notwithstanding, there isn’t a force out there that can stop nature.  They are only speed bumps on the road to dark places and sweaty encounters.  In fact General Order #1 (GO#1) doesn’t explicitly forbid sexual relations; but there are enough other regulations that make it a minefield to be carefully navigated.  A talk with one JAG (Known as CPT Eliot because of his vague resemblance to Eliot Spitzer) basically leaves the option of having sex say, in a dumpster (true story), as long as the lid is down (so it isn’t public indecency) the two parties aren’t committing adultery and aren’t1 committing the act in front of another Soldier all of which are punishable under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ.)

GO#1 makes everything that young Soldiers (and some old Soldiers) like to do; drink, possess pornography (like Playboy magazine or have computer access to images like it), proselytize their faith, gambling, having a pet or bringing home war trophies.  While it can be argued that this is all important for good order and discipline (and just between us I agree with most of these ideas) essentially they are outlawing what in America would be considered by many Americans as “Fun”.

But American’s don’t allow their fun to be outlawed so quickly and will try to circumvent the rules when they think they can get away with it.  At home we might speed a little, make an illegal U-turn, jay walk or even smoke some marijuana in the privacy of your own home.  Soldiers are no different; Soldiers have gone to jail for trying to take home war trophies; sneaking alcohol into Iraq using Scope bottles and brining in and using drugs. 

So what is the biggest misconduct the army could have you ask?  Drugs?  Pornography?  Alcohol?  Nope.  It is the hormonal imbalance that comes from deployment.  Female Soldiers who used to be one female among many become a rare commodity.  Male Soldiers are more isolated than normal and suddenly women who would normally never receive a second glance have some very attractive qualities.   The skin blemishes don’t look so bad, the short and fat look a little thinner and a little taller.  Married Soldiers look more single and available and single Soldiers look more available than normal.

But the biggest problem is that senior officers and NCOs are getting a little too close to their immediate subordinates.  These Soldiers in positions of responsibility and authority are just seeking shelter from the storm.  They don’t go out looking but sometimes they are struck by a simple twist of fate.  Late hours at work; some intimate verbal secrets shared and a little attraction can become an unstoppable urge that allows intelligent, mature people to throw caution to the wind and good sense and the UCMJ out the window.  Like a boss dating a secretary, a coach having relations with an athlete or any other position where the power of one could be help over another.

Next thing you know they are investigated for a violation of the UCMJ.  A normal progression is to NOT prosecute through normal channels because it takes so long and requires tremendous resources that instead the JAG goes to secret option  known by the code name GOMOR (pronounce GOMOR) also known as “Plan B”.  The GOMOR is referred to as a General Officer Memorandum of Reprimand.  It is an administrative action that essentially ends all hope of promotion and unless a Soldier is eligible for retirement they will not be promoted and forced to leave the service when their obligation is up.

GOMORs are normally filed in your permanent file (at the discretion of the General signing it) and this allows you a chance to rebut the letter.  But what promotion board or retention board is going to believe you over a General Officer who has had the incident thoroughly investigated?  (Answer:  None.)

Honestly?  Some drivers and aides can be pretty darn cute.  You can almost be fatherly with them.  Even good officers can go bad when you spend too much time (any time) alone with another Soldier of the opposite gender.  Even last night I slowed to offer a ride to two Soldiers who I know who are both good married officers.  It was dark and they were walking back to the BOQs which is about ¼ mile away.  They both declined a ride as they seemed to be involved in an intense conversation.  I said to the other officer I was with, “That is how trouble starts” and he said “I was thinking the exact same thing!”

What else gets Soldiers in trouble in Iraq?  CHU (Container Housing Unit) violations (where a male Soldier or Female Soldier is in another gender’s room during an unauthorized period (like an overnight stay?)  SPICE use (not salt, pepper or cayenne) but a drug that is illegal but is not currently detected using the standard urinalysis process.

How do we prevent these occurrences as Soldiers?  Find something distinctly not attractive in the Soldiers of the opposite gender you come in contact with (and know they will get better looking each day!)  Avoid any close contact or friendships where you are alone with another gender Soldier whether it is eating alone with them at the DFAC (chow hall), doing physical training together (strange but when you aren’t married people look sexy when they sweat) and don’t spend time alone with just one Soldier of the opposite gender …and don’t do drugs!  

What’s on the menu?

The reason I ate the ham hocks was I thought they would offer pig’s feet again next week.  And ham hocks are actually pretty dog gone good!  Every day there is a different menu item but it is all good ‘ole home style cooking.

The Army has a policy of rotating menu items and they have a 14 day, 28 day and who knows how many days rotating menu.  In Iraq there is a “steak and lobster” night every 28 days.  Woo hoo!  “Hey man!  Tonight is steak and lobster night!”

At NFH the food has always been terrific from American home-style food standards with one exception, which I will cover shortly.    Think Hometown Buffet every day.  And reviewing their menu online shows nice small portions and healthy eating and so forth.  Right!  I was a regular at the Hometown Buffet when I worked at the Armory at 7^th and Martin Luther King in downtown Long Beach.  I had to stop because it was delicious and fattening.  It is a buffet!  You have to get your money’s worth!  If you want to eat what I am eating (granted the seating is better at the HTB) try one at the downtown location or find one in Orange County here.

In California it makes no difference if you are going to a Chinese, Italian, French, or other specialty restaurant there are always workers who appear to be Hispanic doing work in the kitchen.  Maybe they are doing prep work.  Perhaps they are doing cleaning?  Maybe they are actually the cook or the chef?  But it is almost always terrific.  And what is more there is a Mexican food restaurant on almost every corner.  I like Mexican food.  Everybody I know likes Mexican food.  I am not talking just “El Torito”, which is delicious and I enjoy it.  They might even call it “cuisine” in a place like that.  But Alberto’s (which isn’t trademarked so there are hundreds of them in California) and thousands more with different names all have terrific home-style Mexican food.   

I have never had enchiladas that were more average, mediocre, substandard and overcooked (can you do that?) then the ones at this dining facility.  Amazing!  And the one thing I have yet to see is somebody who even looks remotely Hispanic in the kitchen, on the serving line or doing cleanup in the eating area.  Nope.  Not one!  And that must explain the enchiladas. 

They have only served them once.  We have had chicken 20 different ways and all of them were good.  Schnitzel and beef can be served in 17 different ways and all I can say is “Yum yum!’

Vegetables of every sort (well, that might be an exaggeration) steamed, boiled, sautéed, cooked with a cheese sauce and combined with other vegetables are all there.  Collard greens, black eye peas, fried okra, fried cabbage (after consultation MAJ Brown and I decided that this is the best recipe) which is delicious.  Bacon grease.  Wow!

But the enchiladas had a “sauce” of sorts that was colorful but indistinguishable.  The meat filling was flavored I think.  But I wouldn’t call it a good flavor, but seasoned in some way just the same.  The tortilla around the enchilada was dry and a little crisp even though it was cooked (baked) in the sauce.  So far they have only served Mexican food once since I have been here (not including the chorizo from yesterday for breakfast.  But no tortillas, no salsa and it was separate in a bowl.  Like bacon; by itself as its own food.  Not mixed in with eggs, potato and tortilla (Mmmmmm,  Breakfast Burrito!) or any other way.

The Mexican Restaurant I have been going to since my wife got pregnant over 21 years ago has been Casa Gamino on Springdale off the 405 in Westminster.  But you have your own favorite too, right?  Same servers and cooks for the past 20 years who are always pleasant and friendly.  They are a part of the family almost.  And they have the best chips in the whole world, the greatest salsa and several terrific dishes of which each is a favorite of a different family member.  One that is unbelievable (to me) is the meatball soup (Albondigas)!

You have your own favorite and Young Matthew considers Conca D’Oro in Orange the best for everything (especially Italian).  Of course he has gone there since he was knee high to a grasshopper; you must have your own, even if it is Taco bell or Del Taco.

The point is: there is no Mexican food that I can vouch for within 30 miles of NFH.  And NFH needs somebody who has an enchilada recipe, a salsa recipe, a hard-shell taco recipe and maybe an Albondigas or a refried bean recipe. 

What country am I living in when you can’t get some real Mexican food this close to Mexico?  Muy bueno Amigo!

That dog won’t hunt is one phrase they never use…

Military Jargon Part Deux: Contributed by Young Matthew currently serving in the “Big Sand” ahead of us…

Subject: Copier acquisition

CPT Chucky,

I'm pinning the rose on you to peel back the onion on this thing and find a
way to crack the code on this. I know you have a lot on your plate right
now, but if you, the S-6, and the S-4 put your heads together and work that
piece, you will be able to get the ball rolling to tackle this problem. You
may have to go the extra mile, but keep your eyes on the prize (getting that
copier). You might have to use every club in the bag and work a sweetheart
deal with someone to get what you want. But at the end of the day, you are
looking for the pivot guy who can shake the trees and talk to every Thom,
Dick, and Harry to pull this from the jaws of defeat. Keep thinking outside
the box on this one, and work green tab to green tab on this. I know your
initial knee jerk reaction to this was to want to jerk a knothole is
someone, but if we are to keep the proverbial poop from hitting the fan, we
need to not get lost in the sauce, continue to drive on and Soldier with the
best of them. Remember, it's not over until the fat lady sings.

DRAW SABRES!!! ATTACK!!!!! (but don't forget, slow is smooth, smooth is
fast...)

J (NMI) H

“Who authorized you to leave post!”

That’s a phone call you never want to get.  Especially when you are the chief “JAG” officer for the whole Brigade (Judge Advocate General:  The Attorney office in the HQ that includes the Prosecutor, the Legal Defense, a “legal advisor”  and several more staff to do paperwork for everything legal.)

Normally the JAG walks around, looks cool and tries to be like the attorneys in the television show JAG or like Tom Cruise and Demi Moore in “A Few Good Men”.  Our uniforms aren’t quite as nice, our attorneys don’t come from central casting and they could all use some make-up.  In fact this crew is not as tall, not as exciting and is not particularly cute or good looking.

They also don’t play games with senior officers nor do they elicit great quotes like this one:  

Col. Jessup:  “Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's going to do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall; you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch-line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.”

Short (Long) Aside and History Lesson

On a more curious note this post was first conceived on 7 December 2010, which of course just shows how far we have all come as a nation.  CNN had a special broadcast on the big screen television in the DFAC which reminded us what day it was (really…who can tell?) Shortly after that fateful day we declared war on Japan, interred our citizen Japanese (think Manzanar) and wrote patriotic songs that were sung all over America to encourage the American people to support the war.  Eventually we defeated the Japs.  We helped them rebuild their country and economy and then provided military protection so they could focus on becoming an economic powerhouse.  We then bought poorly made trinkets and consumer goods from Japan.  “Made in Japan” meant that it was going to break shortly after you bought it. Forty years later the value of the property in Tokyo was worth more than all of California (that didn’t last long but it caused a panic in the U.S. for awhile.)  Twenty five years later the Japanese have dominant manufacturing positions in consumer electronics, automobiles, heavy equipment and other stuff.  But even more surprising is we have as our head JAG a citizen of Japanese descent. Sixty years from sworn enemies to best buddies and no hard feelings.  Wow!  Americans are terrific and America is the land of opportunity and forgiveness. (Some other countries need to take note.)

The Brigade JAG and his team do wills, powers of attorney, some other miscellaneous legal work that Soldiers need from time to time and do violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ).  Violations are the fun part where they prosecute Soldiers for wrongdoing, an example of which would be going “AWOL” or absent without leave (official permission).  Whenever somebody is missing the standing joke is “Where is so and so?  The meeting starts in 5 minutes.”, and the answer is “I think they went AWOL!”

Which brings us almost to the opening of the post, except…there is MORE!

Not much is happening at North Fort Hood.  When asked the JAGs are “Just waiting for the fun to start” which means the top four disciplinary actions required in country are all fun (from a legal perspective) and what gets the Soldier in trouble might be perceived as “fun” until you get caught.  

The JAG officers left North Fort Hood to go to a briefing held twice a year for JAGs going into theatre (a military theatre of war) to understand what they  are getting into and what they can expect.  It isn’t about golfing (as a cynic might expect) because it is Washington D.C and there was snow there last week.  A LOT of snow.

To leave Ft. Hood you had to get approval.  Tickets had to be purchased and arrangements made and all the units previously mentioned in other posts had to know about it, be informed, give approval, their blessing and then fund the movement.  All these things take time, and since we are now on active duty (referred to as Title 10, which is the part of the U.S Code that covers the active military;  Guardsmen are normally covered under Title 32) and that requires special permission which you can’t receive until you are on Title 10.

The day they were scheduled to come home they got stuck because of weather.  Not the weather in Washington D.C which was fine but the weather in Atlanta.  So they had to wait for two days and then got rebooked onto another airline that doesn’t use Atlanta as their main hub…whichever one that might be, but it rhymes with “Delta”.

You don’t get plane tickets for three JAG officers that include connecting flights, hotel reservations and a rental car without somebody giving permission, do you?  In fact, the request was made from one Colonel (Brigade Commander) through a couple of other Colonels who are in charge of their own “Brigades”. 

They are not quite as big, not quite as important (we are going into harm’s way and they are training us to go into harm’s way; which is more important?) in the big picture and the long run.  But right now they are the Big Dogs because they decide everything.  They approve and assist and forward and cancel as needed.  The people who train us, feed us, give us our vehicles, approve our Christmas pass and decide if we pass our “evaluations” are these other Colonels in charge of the 75^th, MOB Brigade, 166^th, the 120th and even the 479^th.  They are all more important and somebody had to say “Let them go to Washington D.C!”  But right now, as our JAG (Pseudonym Major Miyagi) is taking a phone call from the good captain in charge of his time, attendance and accountability he must be thinking “Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything!  Unfortunately I never caught one…”  That is after of course she says, “Who authorized you to leave post!”

After returning to NFH there of course were the questions: “Who authorized this?” “How did this happen?”  “I don’t recall approving this!”  “Only General Anderson (the head honcho, big cheese 3 star General in charge of everything on Ft. Hood) can authorize leaving post for someone at NFH (kind of like a prison Warden).  So who allowed it?  Well the orders came out of the MDOC (MOB BDE HQ) and the departures were briefed at the CUB, BUB and probably the CUA (see post on CUB, BUB and RUB coming soon.)  And somebody paid for it.  Do you think we still need to get General Anderson’s approval, I mean now that is after the fact?

No.  Probably not.  Neither do I. Let’s just let this one pass and do better next time.  Are you good with that?  Okay.  So am I.