“Life’s tough. It is tougher when you are a CSM!”

“Life’s tough.  It is tougher when you are a CSM!” is a paraphrase of John Wayne in the movie about Iwo Jima.

When I get a text like this: “I know a great Sergeant Major who just retired.  Can I replace ours with him?” you know that people just don’t understand.

Most Command Sergeant Majors (CSM) are just people.  They make decisions, influence things and the Soldiers sometimes just complain.  I looked for an image of a CSM that is fitting our imagination, and they all looked liked a little older and uglier than the middle aged men and women we want our CSM to look like.  So instead picture John Wayne; tough, masculine, honest, caring, sincere, tall, good looking and the perfect looking leader.  Too bad you really can’t tell a good CSM by how they look; only how they act and the decisions that they make.

Great CSMs are few and far between.  They are remembered by everybody and their reputations precede them.  New CSMs are given a little slack.  Bad CSMs get relieved.  I know of two CSMs who have been relieved. Okay, one was fired (we were at peace and that is what is done) and one was relieved (that was war and there isn’t time to screw around.)  One went on to instruct at the CSM academy for all Army CSMs (guess which one?)  Sometimes it just works that way.  And the saying is…  

The other Sergeant Major is known as the Operations Sergeant Major (at least in our organization; note that the CSM is a “Command” and a SGM is a working Sergeant Major).  The previous SGM was a fine fellow who had been in that position for many years, but he lacked the dynamism necessary to lead and manage Soldiers in a combat deployment.  So he retired (he was well past retirement age) and the organization requested SGM Darlington.  He has a barrel chest, a loud voice, an attitude of “Can Do!” but also a sense of the difference between Army Smart and Army Stupid (and the line is a very thin one).  The officers love him and the Soldiers like him.  He is one of the rare breed that everybody will remember.  Even if he screws a few things up he will get a pass because people trust his judgment and know his heart is in the right place.

For CSMs the more decisions you make the more they (Soldiers and Officers) question you.  The most common question is “Who came up with THAT dumb idea?”  It is a reflexive comment demonstrating a snap decision on the hearer’s part not always aware of the extreme thought and careful consideration given to every decision by the CSM.

If it is known as the Commander’s idea, people grumble and think “That was stupid!” but seldom express it out loud.  It isn’t good Karma to disagree publicly or often with the ideas of the boss.  Fortunately he has an assistant, an aide, an advisor and even in a way a mentor.  That person is the Command Sergeant Major (CSM).  The CSM is the highest enlisted Soldier in any organization and every organization that has a LTC (or better) for a commander has a CSM.  (Organizations that are important operationally but are not in “command” have a “Sergeant Major” who is the master of the operational details of a shop or organization.  Like a foreman.  They wield power and have a lot of knowledge but don’t get to make operational decisions).

The CSM is of a lower rank than all the officers in the organization, and sometimes the officers are the ones most likely to question the CSM’s decisions.  A CSM’s decisions are like a Union rule.  Just because you aren’t in the Union doesn’t mean the rules don’t apply to you (and they affect everybody sometimes.)  This is because the CSM makes decisions (normally agreed to, officially approved and signed into policy by the commander).  Some look at the CSM as the brief case carrier for the Commander; A Soldier who carries the Commander’s bag, gets him his coffee and is generally a sycophant. Enlisted Soldiers often worship the ground the CSM walks upon.  CSMs are normally vetted by a process of moving from position to position and learn to work well with officers and make good decisions and recommendations.

In the Guard a CSM could conceivably only be in a few organizations and may have very limited operational experience.  Sometimes they are promoted as much because they went to schools and achieved promotion points by learning (college, military schools) rather than the school of “hard knocks” (and you can normally tell the difference between the two).  Sometimes they have been around a long time and commanders select them and they stay around.  Sometimes they stay around through two or three Commanders.   

When officers complain it is about stuff like, “Is the CSM valuing my Soldier’s time?  Or is he wasting it?” when he develops policies on details and duty hours.  “Who developed that policy?” is common.  Especially when they first hear about a policy say on the “Battle Belt” (see previous post on Steely Eyed Killers) and varying the color by rank.  They just ask “Is that Army smart?”

Maybe it is just the Army and the nature of organizations.  Even the Chaplain said to me, “Sometime the army does stupid stuff for no apparent reason” attributing to the army what we really want to attribute to an individual.

When everybody went on pass and had to wear a uniform rather than being in civilian clothes that policy was conceived by…the CSM.  Or the way the duffle bags got painted and marked so that now they all look alike but the Soldier’s names are incomplete so you say, “Hey!  Who is SK6384?” since in a unit of 150 you can’t know everybody’s first name much less their last four of their SSN (as opposed to SSG J. Kilroy, S6) which gives the rank, last name and section (that is an idea; make a note for next time!)

When married Soldiers are compelled to train at Ft. Hood (think the 7-227^th) their Third Corp CSM issued a policy that you can’t co-habitate on post if you are in the barracks.  But they make you stay in the barracks if you are here TDY.  A fine policy as a rule but you need to be reasonable (they did it (cohabitated) anyway and nobody found out until the last two weeks.)   They are married for goodness sake!

The same CSM (and it is an important position and I have great respect for anybody that reaches that position;  he is no slouch I am sure) has a parking space in front of the clothing sales building where parking is at a premium.  I am sure he rates a personal parking space at a few places on post, but that is a dumb location.  He probably only goes to clothing sales twice a year for 30 minutes each trip.

When the Jingle Bell Jog (see previous post) had the running path cross over itself twice creating a possible collision between runners, this was perceived as being the CSM’s call.  And when  the Soldiers waited for the second group to start on that same run somebody asked why they were waiting and he said “To make sure the fast runners don’t get caught by the slow runners” which made the eyes roll, the face squinch up and the Soldier thought, ‘They are SLOWER.  They CAN’T catch the fast runners…but they can sure freeze to death out here!”

Of course many times the CSM will take credit for an idea that the commander comes up with.  Because once he (the CSM) advises the commander and a decision is made the CSM treats the decision as though it was his own (no matter how dumb the idea is thought to be).  Officers do that also which is why they don’t openly question the commander the way they do the CSM.

Occasionally an officer will play a joke on the CSM (as people who care for each other often poke fun and have a laugh at their friend’s expense.)  A recent one occurred when a Soldier was directed but the CSM to place the carefully framed Army Values posters in a line in the little office/meeting room (storage attic is more like it) off the big shared office.  The Soldier was a day or two slow in accomplishing the task and within days of our arrival all unnecessary equipment and stuff (like these framed posters) was to be packed for shipping.  Before they posters went up somebody said, “Hey CSM.  You know that those will need to come down in two days, right?” “I know.  But I told him to do it so it is going to be done!” A Sergeant carefully screwed the values into the wall for only two days before he removed them.  He then packed and shipped them to Iraq.  The XO (who has worked with the CSM for probably 20 years and is his supervisor back in California) had the S3 office print a panel of miniature Army Values on a sheet about 2’ by 3’ (as opposed to a wall of framed posters stretching about 9 feet long) and tacked it on the wall in the same place where they will be for over 8 weeks.  Was that funny or was he just making a point?

Most importantly the CSM is responsible for maintaining the discipline and standards of the Non-commissioned officers and Soldiers in the organization.  (The non-commissioned officers (NCOs) have the NCO Creed that describes their job and responsibilities.  It is a good one and I agree with it whole heartedly.)   This often is relegated to ensuring Soldiers don’t place their hands in their pockets, wear the proper colored reflective belt (“Battle Belt”, please!), wear the uniform IAW AR 670-1 and monitor Soldier’s hair length and nail color.  Officers are not as interested in some of these important discipline generating policies. They will openly place hands in their pockets, skip a haircut and wear Nike athletic socks in the Army APFT uniform, just because they can (made more pleasurable if the CSM goes crazy!).  It is most noticeable in some officers over the age of fifty (or so it seems to me.)  It is childish and immature for officers to do that sometimes…but then so are some of the insane policies that are so zealously enforced by the CSM. 

As you can imagine, a wise commander listens to his CSM very carefully.  A wise commander who makes his own decisions without consulting his CSM can often cause Soldiers unnecessary hardship.  Most Soldiers want the commander to follow the CSM’s advice.  If the CSM isn’t as wise or knowledgeable as he could or should be the commander must take extra time and show more discretion and prudence when taking the CSM’s input.  The most dangerous (or miserable) result is when the CSM thinks the commander’s every idea is a great one (“Oh!  Yes Sir!  That is a great idea sir!  I will get started on that right away Sir! I wish I had thought of it Sir!”)   If he (the CSM) doesn’t communicate the decision effectively and executes even the most ridiculous idea as though it was his own it can cause problems for all the Soldiers.  The CSM’s first duty and his first charge is to be the spokesman for the Soldier and not the yes man to the commander.

It is a tough and glorious job, being the Command Sergeant Major; A job of great joys, responsibilities and occasional hardship.  It is lonely at the top sometimes, but that is your reward and what you get when you get to the top.

Life can be tough. It can be tougher when you are a CSM!

Major “Downtown Deeshaun” Brown

(It has been tough uploading or writing from Kuwait.  I wrote the next two on the plane over and will update more when I get a place to sit and write in comfort.)

“Sir, I just have to tell you that you have been a blessing to me these past weeks!”  Wow!  Me?  I wouldn’t have thought it since I am just being myself; relaxed, solving problems, wearing my hair long (relatively) putting my hands in my pockets and finding the humor in everything that is happening around me.  What a compliment.

I suspected that Major Dee Brown was a little more competent than most when I sent her a couple of emails while I was still back in California working through details on our arrival.  Nothing of real importance (bus schedules, housing, air field repairs and how to feed everybody) or difficulty.  So take notes on how to impress me; respond to all emails immediately either with an answer, an acknowledgment of receipt or a clarification email.  That isn’t too hard, so let me follow it up with one more step; determine the real question and identify whether you can or can’t solve the problem with your resources or contacts.   

Major Deeshaun Marie Brown is an activated reservist serving at Ft. Hood assisting with Division West (First Army) in making sure that the units coming through get what they need to train.  She is the S4 and is my complement.  She is a graduate of USC. 

“Aviators are normally the worst, you know?  Especially the active duty ones! You all are so much easier to work with.  Your Aviators are so laid back.  But the active duty ones are just a pain; you know what I’m saying?”

Yes.  I know what you are saying.

She stands about 5’ 8” with cherubic cheeks, a firm stocky figure with large expressive eyes showing the laughter and the anger of her soul and the joy in her heart.  She works for Paccar in Texas, around Dallas and has some multiple interests but is unmarried with no pets. 

Our conversation goes to the African American thing because I always struggle just a little with people who identify themselves so strongly by their race.  I see green (okay, now I see computer generated ACU patterns, but it used to be green…) when I look at Soldiers.  I prize competence without excessive pride; coolness under pressure without being lazy and a deep caring for Soldiers and other people.  I value leadership traits.  The more you have them the more I value you and race and gender really don’t play a part in that.

“I’m black.  I don’t go in for that whole, African American thing, you know.  I am just black” she says as I ask her about that racial naming convention (a naming convention is what you name stuff;  for roads it might be States, phase lines it might be colors and for checkpoints it might be birds.  This way when you are on Georgia heading for purple and will notify when crossing bluebird everybody knows how different items will be named when planning.  It is a big help.  And if they say call when crossing  Virginia you know it will be a road and not a phase line or a checkpoint.

What about that “sister, hands on the hips thing?”

“Ooooh!  You mean like this?” as she puts one foot forward, places her hands on her hips and gives an exaggerated neck roll and then that stare that black women can give you.  Finally she finishes with a hand gesture up above her head and across her body and back across snapping her fingers at each change of direction.

Yeah. That is it!  I try it myself and over the weeks we have some back and forth.  We seem to hit it off and she seems to enjoy coming around the first week or so as we worked out the logistical issues that would crop up.  She would sit close and confide about this issue and that related to the multiple agencies that work and control the North Fort Hood complex. 

I would walk her out to her car at the Boondocks and give her a small hug.  I learned to hug in the military from my Battalion commander LTC (now COL) Brandweiss.  When she came on board she was a hugging machine and eventually I learned to hug her.  She was a great commander and she was followed by another female commander (LTC Flencer) who was NOT a hugger, but just as nice and friendly as the first.  I don’t hug my own Soldiers as it isn’t appropriate but with some people it is just the right thing to do. 

Begin an Aside

As an aside, I think it is seven and counting.  The latest is the Troop Medical Clinic at NFH.  They have a policy that there are no weapons allowed in their clinic.  NFH encourages all units to have all Soldiers carry their weapons at all times to practice being miserable  simulate what it could be like in Iraq, but it isn’t (for us).  That information of course isn’t listed in the TMC guidelines for sick call.  Somebody has to hold your weapon outside or you need to get it secured (properly; locking it in your locker isn’t “secure”) and it is a hassle. 

If they actually allowed our medical section to do any medical work (they didn’t) maybe we wouldn’t need to do that.  We could have our own rule, but our medics sat around and made coffee and putzed around while our Physician’s Assistants and the Doc were relegated to reviewing some paperwork and hanging out because they weren’t credentialed by the Fort Hood medical establishment.  Fortunately upon arrival in Iraq they can start doing immediately what they were forbidden from doing at NFH.  Bureaucracy exists everywhere doesn’t it?       

End Aside

She was friendly and happy to see everybody on the staff.  “Hey!  Where is Sexy Jake!  I gotta say hi to Sexy Jake” she would say as she came up to our open area overlooking the main classroom.  (Sexy Jake deserves his own post, but he is my other assistant who was sashaying down the hall to the showers and I commented about how he was acting all sexy.  And of course, with a little effort, the nickname stuck.  In professional company we refer to him as “SJ” so we maintain that level of professionalism, but I think he likes the moniker.)

When she got into evaluator mode for our MRE she came in with fire and speed.  She was on a mission.  “Okay, so let s go over this because the Colonel needs to have it and I want to get it done.” 

As the new acting XO she had a lot of other responsibilities and sometimes the people she is working with “...are helpless.   They really are.  I mean look at this email.  Have you invited this officer to this party and the invitation clearly states that he is invited?!  So what am I doing for these invitations, like I need to hold these people's hands?  I mean I love them, I really do, but sometimes…and it took a little while to adjust for some.  My Master Sergeant, he is infantry you know.  That mentality!  Like, “Why can’t he just sign the memo!” and we know there is a process.  The Colonel deserves to have a memo that has already been reviewed and is error free, you know?  But it has taken awhile for him to become a little more garrison.  I love my people I really do, but oh gracious!” and she smiles and laughs and shakes her head.

“They don’t really like me, but they like that I get things done.  And if they want me to help them I just ask that they are all in.  If they are all in I will stick with it to get it done, but if they waffle and don’t know what they I have to tell them to leave.  I don’t have time for it.”    

How about that other fellow?  Did he make you angry? “Him?  I tell you what I just want to go all "Sister" on him you know?  I really do sometimes.  He just doesn’t get it.  I mean, really, who came up with that FARP idea?  Just him.  Did he pass it by the TSB folks?  Ask me?  And OH! They all were like how are we going to do this and they don’t have a convoy clearance and I am saying, you are just asking NOW for a convoy clearance? Did it catch you by surprise when you (the TSB) are responsible for helping them plan this and the TSB knew for weeks that they were going to do this? They want to have a FARP at an airport?  Are you kidding me?  We can do that ANYWHERE at Ft. Hood, but no!  We have to go 90 miles and not even at our training area there but a Public airport?  What were they thinking?” 

So she takes us through the ringer in a five minute stand up so she can make some good notes to give to the evaluating Colonel (whichever on that is) and off she goes not to be seen for another three days.  Taking care of business and doing the important work of her battalion. 

Can you tell she is a USC graduate?  I am a Trojan myself…She from University of South Carolina and me from Troy University.  But we both get a great reaction when we just tell the half-truth.  Our secret; please don’t tell!   

Before I left we had lunch together and we talked some more.  “Six Sigma?  These guys could use some of that.  Oh my gosh, at Paccar we are all Six Sigma and process improvement all the time”.  Is there hope for NFH? “They don’t know the meaning of process improvement.  There are seven different agencies or more involved in every little thing here and nobody is actually in charge.  It just won’t get better.”

As we parted I walked her to her car (which is a polite gesture for everybody to emulate I believe) and gave her another hug.

Major “Downtown” Deeshaun Marie Brown deserved her own post just for being fun and a pleasure to work with and now she has it.  Thanks and may you help all those who follow us. 

“If I call your last four you call out and sit down!”

On our way to Kuwait,

The main lady in charge is not native born.  Maybe Chinese, Korean or something, but it is hard to understand her.  Finally she gets some help and now there are two different voices calling out the last four of our social security numbers.  It seems to be working okay, but how their count got mixed up is beyond me…

“Bag drop is 0400 at the parking lot by the 2^nd DFAC.”  Man! That seems early.  Of course that is the start time, so I know that I can get there by 0420 and will still be fine.  After that there is a check-in at 0530 at bldg. #331.  It is cold outside.  Real cold (Not "I can't feel my nose" cold, just high thirties.) I drive to see the XO who is going to see me off and get breakfast.  I drive to the VIP billets and park the car (I leave the heater on and the motor running because it is really cold outside) and try to sleep.  It works okay with some shifting every 15 minutes to check the clock.  Finally the door opens and the XO jumps in.  My phone rings “Hey sir, this is Chief Fischer, they are supposed to check in at #331 at 0530”.  It seems like she thinks I am late when I will be right on time.  We show up at #331 and there are a bunch of Soldiers standing around in the cold.  It appears that the people who are to check us in are not there or they overslept or they can’t find the key.  This is standard operating procedure of course. 

We wait in the car and MAJ Beauty jumps in to talk emergency leave policy. She is just there to support her troops and see them off (those who are going on the TORCH with us.)  After a bit I say the chow hall is open.  Let’s send everybody to chow.  Getting out I call out and Soldiers start walking toward the chow hall.  Enroute there is the building next to the DFAC where we can now sign in.  We eat and exchange pleasantries.  The gravy is too thin (that almost always ruins the meal) but the omelet is terrific again.  

When I am in line some new Soldiers come in to eat. They all got up at 04oo to be there to show their identification tags and card and now have nothing until 0800.  They didn’t read my blog from earlier (obviously!) but they wanted to have “success” which is a code word for not rocking the boat or asking questions.

Time to head over to the busses where we load at 0605.  So we went from the “bag drop” about 300 yards to the closed building and then 150 yards to the DFAC and then another 300 yards to the busses.  Then we boarded and we had to do another head count.  Why don’t they just do it at the busses in the first place? 

“I will tell you what, they cleared (inspected) our barracks and they weren’t half as clean when we moved in as when we left.”  The 7-227^th XO was talking.  No big deal.  But the active duty guys get a little bit of a pass (or so it appears) compared to the Reserve component.  “I would tell General Blanderson myself that they are just doing a bunch of box checking and trying got make us as miserable as possible in the process.”  

That of course is another blog post, but the S3 of the 151^st is standing there and says, “Yeah.  You are not as active duty as you think you are!”  Again the 7-229th XO speaks “ Man I am going to write a book I swear, “First Class Warrior; Second Class Citizen”;  must be a perspective on the expectations of the army for the active and reserve component are the same, but we just get treated differently.  Like cr@p is the way most people feel.

So we signed out, checked in, stood around and now we are doing another headcount.  Soldiers are pretty compliant actually and are used to being treated well or like dirt but in any event they are used to leaders not being well organized.  And you know they are trying.  They have been doing this stuff for nine years, right?

Off the bus at Gray Army Air Field and there is a new group of lines to  scan your identification card while you stand on a scale holding all your carry-on luggage (one) and your weapon.  We are segregated into another room so we don’t mix “checked in” with those yet to check in (plus there are roped off areas).  This is good so now they have a count, right? “All Soldiers E-5 and below come up here so we can get a count….”  “Everybody our count is no good listen as we call your last four…” and that is where we started this post.

Before that though as we passed along the “hug lady” (Ms. Elizabeth, maybe 75?) gave each Soldier a hug and a 91^st Psalm.  Later she reads a story about a farmer from Texas explaining how easy the Army is; it is a well known story and you can read about it later.  Now the second person to speak to the group is from a group called PRAYFAST (Pray for a Soldier Team, which started in 2003) which means they will pray for every Soldier by name from now until 90 days after you return.  But you have to fill out a card and sign your name, because the Army won’t allow them to pray for you without your permission.  Separation of church and state and all that…  Jim West is the volunteer this day, a retired contractor who served in the Air Force in 1968 (3 years, 10 months and 7 days, but who was counting?)

“Did they give you guys magazines?” Asked the XO.  “I have a Forbes, Vision and a Consumer Reports.” “No man, you need your magazines for your security ammo in Kuwait.  I knew I should have followed up with the First Sergeant and the commander (known to some as CPT “Cage Fighter” because of her training regimen and willingness to spar and work out.)” 

On the bus I get a call from the CSM.  Good news!  They are going to get somebody to get magazines and meet us at the terminal.  Terrific.  They better hurry!  If not we will just have the ADVON bring them.  Of course we can’t fire at the range without magazines, but Kuwait is pretty safe regardless of what the S2 tells us.  (He said the danger in Kuwait is “high” although here hasn’t been an incident of any sort in 5 years.)

The magazines get here on time and I take three.  Everybody else gets theirs and we all feel better (actually we don’t care, but whatever…) another announcement (“there will be NO picture taking on the ramp!  IF you have your cell phone or camera out you will NOT be allowed to go forward until it is secured and you WILL and you WILL NOT and if you DO then you WILL etc.)  This end of the airfield has nothing that you can’t get a picture of any other way and there is nothing secret about it.  Rules are made and then nobody remembers why the rule existed and the next thing you know 55 saves lives, speed kills until somebody figures out that it really doesn’t (when they realized that 55 caused accidents they changed their tune...make the “facts” fit your premise.) 

 The civilians are friendly, cheerful and seem like they sometimes missed their callings as drill instructors.  But they were tolerable in any event and we loaded up on the plane.

Soldiers are ready to go forward and perform our mission.  We are ready to do our part for our country and for our nation probably not intellectualizing or understanding the deep philosophical elements at work.  We aren’t consciously giving up our lives, risking our fortunes or placing at risk our sacred honor; No not that.  Only perhaps to…Perhaps to give our lives; perhaps to lose friends; perhaps to come home broken but not defeated.  May God be with us on our journey, with our families in our absence and in His grace and mercy see us all home again by November (if it is His will.)  Amen.     

“Sir, you make US nervous!”

We pulled up to the clothing sales building to get a nametag for my LT who asked me to pick it up for him.  “Hey, Sir, um, if you could pick that up that would be great.  Uh, sir, you know I ordered it with the sage green border and they called and said it was black.  Can you ask for a discount for me?” 

I can’t believe it.  He wants me to grind the nametag shop lady for a reduced price on a nametag that he ordered…”Sure!  No problem.  How much is it?  What should I ask to pay?”  “Sir, well they were going to charge me $10.00, so maybe 50%, only $5.00?”  “You want me to ask for a 50% discount?  Sure, but what if they don’t take that?” 

“Hey man, I need to go into clothing sales while you get that nametag.  Good luck on that discount thing!” said the XO as he got out of the car. 

The III Corp CSM parking space had a vehicle in it and I wanted to see what the CSM drove (a car is a reflection of your soul or self image, some would say).  As I walked closer though I had to smile because there were some workmen fixing lights and they were parked in the spot.  They didn’t know what a CSM was or who would catch what hell if it was a regular Soldier and they were caught.

Inside there were a bunch of privates standing outside the nametag shop door.  “Wow!  Quite a line!”  “No sir”, said the PFC who appeared to be in charge, “we are just waiting outside here for the rest.” I stepped in and there were about 5 privates in line and one to my left and a specialist was with him, obviously in charge. The private to my left wasn’t in line, but maybe I was blocking the e door.  He was at attention.  

Unfamiliar with that “new Soldier scared of everybody” look I said, “Relax, man, you make me nervous (which it does;  I don’t carry other people being too formal with me very well;  I should have said, “at ease, relax” but I wasn’t thinking.)  The last Soldier in line looked over his shoulder and he was also at attention (mostly) and he said, “Sir, you make US nervous!”

Good point.  Nobody trusts people senior to them because you always assume the guy is a jerk and will go crazy on you for some military courtesy you missed.  Privates fear sergeants and everybody else; LTCs and Majors fear Colonels and Generals and so it goes.  

“I am just in line with you guys, relax.”

Then I noticed that they all had these little orange vests in bags and they were getting name tags made.  I had seen a couple of Soldiers wearing them instead of Battle Belts over their PFU (APFT) uniform.  It was remarkable because they actually looked dumber than the battle belts, which I had finally adjusted to seeing on everybody all the time.  The vest only goes down to about 6 inches below the sternum.  It looks like a soccer penny that doesn’t fit right and is designed for someone about age twelve. I was really shocked at the look and it had abused my eyes.  (Think international orange reflective vests worn by a road worker picking up trash only half sized.)  Ugly, inconvenient and apparently confining.

“Can I ask what you guys are doing with the vests?  How many name tags are you getting?” “Sir, we are getting two tags for the front and two for the back”  “Two?  What is that for?” (The normal uniform has two; one says U.S. Army and the other is our last name). 

“Yes sir, our name tape and our unit.”  “Just so I understand this they are requiring you to buy a vest and then get four name tags made and then you take those name tapes across the hall to the cleaners and they sew them on.  How much does that all cost?”  “Well name tags are about $6.00, and it costs $2.00 per patch to sew them on and of course the vest is about $12.00.”  Before I do the math in my head (I am an aviator, I can do that!) I have to say I am amazed that it costs more to sew a patch on then it does to make the patch in the first place.  

Add it all up and that is about $26.00 for each Soldier mandated by somebody… (Probably a CSM at some level.)   The army has a uniform policy for a reason; if you have to have it they must issue it to you (for enlisted Soldiers).  But there is always somebody trying to make Soldiers spend money on stuff or things. 

“So and so is retiring.  You need to go to his retirement or at least help buy his gift; $35.00 please?”

 In the army there are more people who retire of change duty positions and there is a little party for all of them.   It gets annoying but as an officer it is an expected part of being gracious and professional.  For an enlisted man it gets to be more than pocket change.  I always find that just a little inconsiderate of “Leaders” who aren’t thinking.   

I finally get to the front of the line (it moves pretty fast; they do a lot of name tags here).  The lady goes to get the tag.  She hands it to me.  “Did he already pay?”  “No, I don’t think so, but this isn’t what he ordered so he has my number he can call us to reorder if he wants to.”  Just like that, no charge and the LT has a cool patch that goes on the left sleeve that is similar to the name tags we used to wear when we had one piece green flight suits.  It has your name, your rank and your wings on it and goes on the left shoulder above the unit patch.  It has to be locally approved by the unit commander.  They are a method of self expression  and people can get all kind of cool designs into the background along with the other information; as an example a half an American flag and a helicopter that you fly all in the green colors. Very cool.  The one my LT ordered has a black border and actually looks rather pedestrian for what is available.  Boring.

The Specialist mentioned above tells me “Uh, sir, your reflective tab is showing” and points to the same spot where my patch would go if I was really cool (but I am not).  It is normally covered by a little tab that folds up so you only expose it if you are in combat and it helps you be seen at night under night vision goggles. 

“Thanks!  I actually leave it exposed to see how many people correct me.  So far you are number three!”  Another minute passes and he asks again, “Sir is that exposed because you are wearing your weapon?”  I have my pistol in my shoulder strap that is a custom design by my buddy Tom Murphy (a special blog post coming soon about him).  It is very old school and he made it for his first deployment I believe.

“No.  (Obviously he didn’t listen the first time, after all the excitement of correcting a LTC when he is out of uniform is a gutsy move; it makes it hard to hear)  Actually (and I reach into my left arm pocket and lift the flap) it is just how I sometimes just want to have a little fun with it all (and I expose the small patch I have under the flap that in red thread on ACU green material that  says “Ask me why I am so happy?” with a yellow smiley face.)  I show him the California state flag under my right arm pocket flap cover and then smile pat him on the shoulder and say, “If you know what I mean.”  “He smiles broadly and says “Oh!  Yes sir!  I like that!  Cool!” We head back to the car.

“You know I think I am just going to tell the LT she only gave me a 5% discount.  What do you think?”  “Sure man.  That sounds good.  Funny too!”

“Nice Haircut!”

Whoever thought a haircut would get so many comments?  Just another haircut as far as I could tell, but there must have been 17 different Soldiers tell me “Hey sir!  Now THAT is a haircut!”, “Sir!  You look like you are that General in the movie “Toy Soldiers”!” or “That looks just like a Marine haircut! You look twenty years younger!”

It is like nobody has ever seen a flat top with short sides.  Sheesh!

“Honey I have never seen you with hair that short.  I like it!”  “You look like an infantry commander. Especially with that shoulder holster you got. Cool!”

“I have worn this style before.  It isn’t that big of a deal.”  “Yeah.  Like 27 years ago maybe!”

Some people judge you by your hair.  Can you believe it?  One minute it looks like I don’t care, I am a typical aviator, looking and acting like a warrant officer (of which I once was one).  Maybe they mistake me for a surfer or California beach bum (without the tan.)  Of course the only people who think this are people IN the military.  Everybody outside the military has always thought I have had a military style haircut. 

So hair style matters.  People judge you by how you look, carry yourself and whether you say “H**ah!” or not (I don’t; stopped for good at Officer Candidate School).  Fingernails matter too.

CPT Houston, her sister in arms and the other female officers all take pains to maintain some level of femininity and nail care is the easiest method.  I told my daughters that.  Nails that are clean, polished and of the same length say a lot about a woman and all genders (is there more than 2?) should look after their nails because people judge you by your hair, your nails and whether you put your hands in your pocket while in uniform.  I need to get a nail file.

“…so I waited till he was finished yelling at me….”

  

Movement Officer.  That is an interesting name for an officer much less a job.  Kinda like “Brigade travel agent and tour guide” is a better name, but that might not cover it all.  Tour guides keep you on track, travel agents schedule all the tickets and hotels and special busses; but still there is more.  Can we add in baby sitter?  Counselor?  Police officer?  How about adding Parent, principal and disciplinarian and sheep dog all rolled into one.

“I was like, gee, I can’t yell at my grandpa, you know?  But he was talking to me and he must be about sixty or something, and I said, “Can we just insert “Ass chewing” here and get on with the conversation?”  All that white hair and he says, “I guess you are pissed, huh?”  I had already taken three breaths and of course they didn’t need me to help (they know what they are doing…) them so they got their own deal.  I told him he would have to write his own letter to the General and I wasn’t going to do it for him.  He is doing that now.  She can be tough (recommendation:  don’t get on her bad side!)

The Movement Officer plans all the movement and shipping for everything in the whole brigade.  By plane, train, truck or automobile she plans it months in advance by weight, size, type, vehicle, container, contents and people.  Who is going to get what shipped when is all decided by echelons above reality based on her inputs (via a special computer program or two).  Those air force jets don’t just “show up”.  They are scheduled weeks and months in advance as they figure out how to move all the stuff to where it needs to go back and forth on time and on budget.  Some stuff goes by ship, some by air and some early and some late.  Everything is weighed.  Each piece has a “load plan” figured out by civilians and military and there is no “extra room”.   Every load is perfectly filled.  Not an extra conex, bag or pallet will fit. And if your carefully calculated weights aren’t right (oops!  Too heavy!) the air force guys leave it on the ramp.  They play hardball and being stupid isn’t an excuse.

Our movement officer is either extremely underpaid or is actually doing a lousy job and we don’t know it.  Six months of training; a level of organization and an ability to lead a disparate group of people who don’t work for you is a tough job.  Our UMO, CW2 Mandy Fischer is up for it!

About what is she, maybe 5’2”? (actually 5’ 1 ¾”) and about 26.  You can tell she has a temper when she needs one.  Oh, and she is a texting machine.  Maybe Hispanic (okay, Mexican, but when you meet her you aren’t sure since she still uses her ex-husband’s name.) When we first met it was at Ft. Rucker at the ATX (Aviation Training Exercise) in February 2010 (which is where everybody is going again in two days that isn’t going early to Kuwait to “make smooth the way.”)  She was texting and smoking and texting and texting and I would ask, “Can you do this on that computer for us?”  And she would look at me with those brown eyes, raven hair and a wide pouty mouth slightly open and grimace a little, like she was going to think about it.  Maybe a, “who are you?  Why are you talking to me?”  Then a little twist of her head, and say “Sure sir.  No problem!” and get it done.  Then she would text again. 

She works for me but like most in the section they all do something highly specialized and the work can’t be cross trained.  Why she came to that ATX exercise was a mystery (her job wasn’t simulated at all; all the rest of it is a big simulation playing BDE HQ). But when something needed to get done she would do it (and then get back to texting). Of course her job is hard to simulate. When you do the real job it is a lot harder than any simulation and takes months of preparation (for the big moves).  For little moves it takes a week or two, but it all takes time after she does her part.

Married?  No, boyfriend.  Family?  Moved away for a year or two and just missed the big Mexican family gatherings.  She is the most successful one in her family of the children.  The Army really helps people get ahead, make a living, be responsible and take responsibility.  She missed it so she lives a few blocks away from Mom and everybody lives within three miles of each other.  She volunteered to come.  Works in the Big HQ at OTAG in Sacramento most of the time.  How much fun can that be?

“They did what wrong again?  I can’t figure this out.” I needed it explained again in small words because it didn’t make any sense. “They scheduled the air force to move a bunch of pallets for stuff that they don’t even have.”  “What do you mean “stuff they don’t even have?”  Incredible.  We have been working like dogs inspecting (Coast Guard for sea borne), transporting, supervising crossing the “T’s” and dotting the “i” to make sure we have what we have and what we do have will ship and weighs the right amount and they ordered transportation for pallets of stuff they don’t even have?  How can you make plans to transport stuff you don’t even have here?  All the preparation normally requires that you see the equipment, inspect it, certify it, load it again and then stage it for later movement.  But they just figured out they don’t even have it? Yes I agree.  He does need to write that letter by himself!

Up to this point the 7-227^th ARB has been down at SFH doing Apache (AH-64) training before we got here.  It is a special Army program that keeps the whole unit together for 2 years while they learn the intricacies of the AH-64D. (This is where you should say “Ooooh! Wow! AH-64Ds! They must be special!”)  They are special alright; so special that they have been busy and they weren’t working with us or for us until (officially) about 1 January.  How about an example?

They have been so busy one of their S1 sergeants wrote an email to our S1 that was essentially this (and I quote from memory…) “Sergeant:  We are really busy down here (and of course our HQ is just sitting around playing Hearts?).  We are going to Iraq! (Aren’t we all?)  We are working 8-12 hour days (Wow! They are on vacation!)  We don’t have time to get you your Personnel Status report on time.  Just be glad we sent it at all! (I wouldn’t want that sergeant to meet the S1 Officer in a well lit room; she would rip him a new body cavity and then remove his head from his neck and spit down it; in other words she was extremely put out!)  So like I said we know they have been real busy because they told us.

So now that the “Grandpa” Warrant Officer UMO (for the 7-227^th) ordered and then cancelled a plane that had been planned for months to transport by strat-air (airplane) stuff they didn’t even have he needed to write a letter. 

But wait!  There is MORE!  Did I mention she has spunk and a professional attitude?  Exhibit #2:  Uncle LTC Lou…he deserves his own post to properly express how he communicates, but in summary she told me this:  “He was yelling at me and yelling at me for like 10 minutes and I stood there with my hands on my hips leaning against a locker, trying not to scream or roll my eyes too much…” “I guess he really liked that!” “Yeah. It kept his fuse lit, but anyway I took a deep breath and waited until all his bad words were finished.  When he was finally done yelling I said, “That’s great sir, I am glad that these are your helicopters and all your stuff is yours and you are a battalion commander and all that. But if that stuff of yours goes on MY airplane and if you don’t want to do it the way I say then it just won’t get on board.”   

        

“Did that quiet him down?”  “Oh yeah!  All these people…I have to let them yell, complain and curse and when they finally finish I say, “Are you done?  Because this is how you have to do it.  I mean it isn’t me; it is the rules; rules from Movement Command, the Air Force, the ADAG at Hood, the port at Kuwait, the port at Beaumont and everybody else has rules.  If you put the wrong stuff in the containers, don’t get it inspected and signed off, weighed, picked up on time, or look cross eyed at them they just leave your stuff.  Or you have to get a General officer for every screw-up.  Like the 7-227^th.”

 “So far we are doing okay though?  It seems like everything is going really well?”

“So far we are doing great!  Our little screw-up is nothing like they are used to around here at Fort Hood. Especially since we aren’t stationed here, we aren’t active duty all the time and even though we got a LOT of stuff, it is all going very well.”  She returned to her texting. 

“What are the four things to remember?”

Whenever a VIP visits they put table cloths on the tables.  At least where the VIPs will sit, and in this case they were taking up two tables so we took our food into the non-VIP side so when they came in we wouldn't be disturbed.

The Commander of the California Army National Guard came in and spent a day or so visiting.  He shook some hands, walked around, said nice things and promoted Major Fall to Lieutenant Colonel which is a nice raise and something he has been waiting for.

But some lucky Soldiers get to eat with the General and the other VIPs.  The S1 (Major Beauty) wanted to make sure her Soldiers didn’t embarrass themselves or others:  “Okay!  What are the four rules!” with an emphasis of somebody who really wants to help.

“Ma’am, the first rule is sit up straight!”
“That’s right!  Don’t slouch!  You aren’t at home.  You aren’t with your friends.  This is the General and this is a business lunch not a party with your buddys! 

What is rule number two?” “Make eye contact!”  By the end of the morning they were having staring contests making eye contact, getting all bug-eyed at each other.  They were ready to look deep into the General’s eyes with confidence.

“And number three is practice answering the questions he is going to ask you!  Everybody rehearse the answers for:  Where are you from?  Don’t say, “Uhhhh, umm, Fresno.”   Say “Sir, I am from Fresno and was born in San Francisco but we moved to Fresno when I was 16” or something like that.”  If he asks if you are going to school don’t answer “Yes Sir.”  Instead mention where and what you are studying and try to apply it to the Guard.  “I am going to Fresno State sir, where I am using the G.I Bill to pay for college.  After I get back from deployment I will finish up and maybe even go to OCS, sir!” That is a mouthful which is why you practice it now.

“Last rule?”  “Ma’am, I know!  Don’t use profanity!”  “No!  That is a great rule, but you shouldn't use profanity at the table anyway.  The last rule is make a firm handshake and say, “Thanks for coming to visit us, Sir; or It is nice to meet you sir or something like that.  Have a firm grip, make eye contact and speak to him like you mean it! No crab handshakes, or limp wrist or timid “Oooooh!  You are the General!” handshakes” as she demonstrated to them over and over.  A firm, strong grip with palm on palm and make sure he can tell you are proud of yourself when you grip it.  He is a general and you are a Private but you are both Soldiers!” 

“Private Jones, what do you say if he asks how many people are in the Brigade?”
“Um. Well, I tell him we have about 1786.  Right?” 

“Jones!  You have to tell him like you OWN that PERSTAT report!” she said with emphasis, like a football coach emphasizing the right thing to do.  

“It isn’t “about” 1786.  Either it IS 1786 or it is something else.  You do this every day.  You have to KNOW the number.  You have to OWN it! Now try it again.  Practice it!”

“So after I went over the rules with them they were practicing and they were shaking hands and getting into each other’s space saying, “Thanks for visiting us!” with a long stare and almost creepy they were in so close.”  She showed me how they were doing it.  Then she touched my arm like she always does to get my attention and she said, “And Private Jones came up and said, “Ma’am:  I OWN that PERSTAT report!  I do it every day and I know EXACTLY how many Soldiers we have on ground, on leave, pregnant, hospitalized, TDY, on quarters and every other of the 26 statuses they could hold.  I am READY!”

Every job is important and every Soldier takes pride in what they do.  Sometimes they need to be reminded just how important their piece is. Good leaders help their Soldiers understand and express it.  Major Beauty OWNS the S1 shop.  Absolutely!