tgr131

I'm posting this blog entry from a barracks room in Fort Riley, KS. We don't have cable, we don't have phones, but we do have wireless internet.

When our friends at the 648th refused to help us set up internet access, a couple of PFCs and a Specialist (very junior enlisted soldiers, for you civilian types), talked an officer into fronting the money for some equipment. They called Cox Cable, explained what they wanted to do, that it would be short term, and we'd pay in advance. Cox was cool, came out, installed the cable.

Our geeks ordered all sorts of equipment, including some hi gain directional antennas that probably cause cancer. In very short order, I ponied up my 10 bucks, and now I've got access in my room. And these guys continually tweak the network to make it run better.

I was convinced that they were motivated by the pursuit of porn, free music, or some other ulterior motive. But it appears they are just highly motivated geeks. And they actually received their geek training from the US ARMY -- an Army of One.

You guys got your money's worth out of the tax dollars spent on their training. They really are HOOAH!

My unit is the 326th Area Support Group. Our higher headquarters is the 648th something or other. Their primary purpose in life seems to be to say "no" to the things that we ask for.

When my unit was shut out of the local dining facility (see previous blog entry), our food service officer went to the 648th to see what could be done. The 648th informed us that none of the other units coming through had been able to eat in that facility, and that we would be no different.

Well, my food service officer (FSO) went to the manager of the dining facility, explained nicely that for the next week, we would be leaving for training before our normal facility opened, and we'd be back after it closed. The manager is a former soldier, and was sympathetic to our plight. He kindly agreed to let us eat breakfast in his facility, and hold dinner for us as well.

My FSO commented that he'd expected it to be more difficult, because the 648th said it couldn't be done.

Turns out, the 648th never asked. They've been managing mobilizing units for close to 2 years, and they've never asked the closer facility if units they supervise could use the facility.

Your Tax Dollars, hard at work.

Hooah.

The Army culture has an interesting phrase that I first heard back in 1989.

Hooah! Pronounced like Hula, without the l.

It can mean as little or as much as you want it too.

"Can you accomplish the mission, soldier?"

"Hooah, First Sergeant!"

----

That's a "Hooah" knife, sir.

----

It can also be used to answer roll call:

"Smith!"
"Here, First Sergeant!"

"Bland!"
"Hooah, First Sergeant!"

-----

I don't know where it came from, but everyone in the army uses it. I don't even like the word, and I end up using it all the time.

Hooah -- It's an Army Thing.

I'm currently at Ft. Riley, Kansas, undergoing what passes for training these days. I'm not impressed.

But I'm once again dumbfounded at the bureacracy and red tape I've stumbled into.

The mess hall we are assigned to use is about 1.5 miles away. One of my soldiers wandered into a building across the field from where we are staying, and discovered, lo and behold, a dining facility! It was hardly used!

Word got out, and we started using this facility. The food is great, the lines are short, and it's much closer to our barracks. We've been using it for a couple of weeks now.

The announcement came down that the facility was shutting us out, and we'd have to return to using the more distant facility. The were serving about 250 people a day before we came, now they are serving 600. They seem equipped to handle the crowd, but some bureacrat has to justify the other facility's existence. So we either walk or are bussed to the other dining hall. We stand in huge lines, wait for seats, and basically waste a lot of time, while the other facility stands nearly empty and unused.

Hooah!

Well, I've arrived safely in Kansas, and have been working 12 hour days every since. I love the bureacracy of the army, and the lack of institutional memory. An example:

Officers pay for their meals, unless on orders that state the officer should be provided gov't meals, or if they are on travel, when they can file for per diem. If you are supposed to pay for your meals, you either pay at the cash collection box (a cash box, manned by an NCO who can't make change), or they deduct it from your paycheck. I've actually been in situations in the field where I was forced to pay cash, AND they deducted it from my check. So although officers get paid more, we often get screwed when it comes to meals, etc.

And once again, I'm on my way to being screwed. My orders read that "Gov't meals are available and directed", which is Army lingo for, "This is on us!". However, the unit will not serve me because it is a catered meal, so they expect me to pay $9.50 for a serving of crappy catered food. I've been eating off site. I'll still come out cheaper, unless they deduct it from my check.

This has happened in every unit I've ever been to, so I'm used to it. But it amazes me that no one in the army has figured this out yet.

Maybe they'll make ME the food service officer. Woo Hoo.

For those of you who are interested:

Here’s the perspective of an IRR soldier who thought his commitment to the Army was long over. He found out otherwise when the army called him back into service. He’s been a pretty good sport about it.

http://www.armysteve.com

I've been taking the checks for years now, so I now I'm holding up my end of the bargain.

Steve was not drawing the paycheck. Enjoy the read.

As a parent, you are accustomed to a lost of FIRSTS. The first time you change a diaper, the first step, the first driving lesson, the first soccer game, the first Christmas, and so on.

When you have more than one child, you start noticing the LASTS, as well. I don’t know when it dawned on me exactly. I think it was a couple of summers ago. I’d spent one summer vacation teaching my oldest son to ride waves on a raft. The next summer, he didn’t need me anymore to surf. So when I helped my middle child this summer, I mentally noted the moment that I thought would be the LAST time he needed my help with his surfing.

And as I’ve prepared to go to Kansas, and then Iraq, I’ve noticed the LASTs piling up. The last time I’ll sing Hey Diddle Diddle to my baby girl. The LAST time we’ll watch the Wiggles together. When I return, she’ll not likely want to have Dad rock her to sleep, and sing lullabyes. The moments have become charged with emotion for me, and it’s hard to describe the emotion that accompanies each LAST.

Those of you who are hardcore Babylon 5 fans might know what I mean when I say this: Perhaps you remember the lump in your throat when watching Sheridan tell Delenn that he was “going out for a drive” in the final B5 episode, Sleeping in Light. You know Sheridan’s not coming back, and this is the last time that he will see the love of his life. That’s the closest I can come to describing it.

I’ll be busy soon. Too busy to stop and think about it any more. But it seemed appropriate to take a moment to grieve over those lost moments with my children.

There's a bumper sticker that I first saw about 10 years ago, that says something like "Practice Random Acts of Kindness, and Senseless Beauty". I'm not sure about this philosophy, or what a "Random Act" of kindness is.

But since I was notified I was being mobilized, I've been experiencing numerous Deliberate Acts of Kindness.

One concern I had about being gone was yard maintenance. I contacted my friend Dean, who's helped me coach soccer the past few seasons. He also runs a landscaping business. I told him I'd like to hire him to care for my yard while I was deployed. He refused to let me hire him, but assured me that my yards would be taken care of. I insisted that we make financial arrangements, but he told me that my money was no good to him. Thanks Dean.

I went for my last haircut at the family owned barbershop where they've been cutting my hair since I was 6. They knew that I was leaving, and they were obviously very distressed to see me go. As I reached into my wallet to pay, once again my money was no good. This haircut was on the house.
Thanks Buddy.

And the folks at work seemed sad and puzzled by my departure. They're planning a luncheon today for me. It's not really my bag. I'd prefer to slip out quietly, unnoticed, with no fanfare. If it were up to me, we'd save any gathering for my return. But while I don't enjoy these situations, it does not mean that I don't appreciate them.
Thanks, my friends.

Well, I've heard it can be a nightmare to get an ID for your spouse if you are a Reservist. I'm sure that there are good and bad experiences. So far, it has mostly been bad for me.

The first time I went, I didn't have my Mobilization Order. I'm a Major, I should know better than to go somewhere without an order. They turned me away, and I was very frustrated, but dealt with it. I confirmed that was all I needed to get an ID card for my wife if I accompanied her, and left.

Today, I went in Uniform, MOB order in hand. The clerk at the desk immediately, said "Can't have it. This is August. Your MOB order is for September." I think she missed the Customer Service Course that I went to. You're supposed to try and find a way to provide what the customer needs, not find a way to refuse them.

The Oak Leaves on my collar gave me a boldness that I had lacked in civilian clothes. I demanded to speak to someone in authority, who explained how they work hard to support the soldiers, but again refused my wife an ID card. I explained very patiently that I was leaving Aug 30, and my wife was going to have an ID card today. The homicidal glint in my eyes must have convinced her.

My wife now has an ID card, with the disclaimer that her health care benefits will not begin until Sep -- despite the fact that the Army declared on 23 July that reservists within 60 days of their mob order would have access to the Army Health Care system, known as Tricare:

http://www.tricare.osd.mil/faqs/question.aspx?ID=1387&page=0&search=early&click=ibGo.X

I love the Army.

I got a chuckle out of this:



Check out the full Terror Alert Level system here:

http://www.geekandproud.net/terror/

I'm a web designer, and I have a secret identity: I'm also in the Army Reserve. I'm a Major, supposedly an Ordnance Officer. I've not done any Ordnance in 10 years, but the Army needs OD officers, so I'm on my way to Kansas, to join a unit deploying to serve in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

I'm going to try and chronicle my journey here.

I'm about two weeks away from flying to Kansas for two months of training. I've been buying all sorts of stuff that I think I might need. I was notified a month ago of my activation. I was on vacation. Need I say more?