Saturday, February 28, 2009

"Shirtless Slack Jawed Fagitry"

Going to the feild isn't really a bad thing. In some cases it can actually be kind of fun. Those cases, tend not to happen if there is any *real* supervision by the command group. Lets face it when you've got majors, and colonols and seargent majors breathing down your neck about how you train, you tend not to have fun when you're training. You also tend to do things in a way that is far more difficult than needs be.

Having said that, the absolute worst thing you can do is go to the field simply to say that, yes, you have indeed gone to the field. Such was the case with our last WONDERFUL FTX. I'm not going to bore you with details, of what we did, and even if I tried to, well I'd be bored to tears. I again fell into the role of the unmotivated come along, not allowed to touch treat or otherwise look at a patient, which, of course was the whole reason for being there in the first place. I litteraly sat in a tent for five days and did . . . NOTHING. . . Worse than that, I actually asked, begged to do some kind of training. Let me clear a house sit on a gun, SOMETHING.

Alas, it was not to be. At the end of it all I felt like a complete fool, having done a better job training to do my job IN IRAQ than I did in this bs FTX. I can not honestly decide what agrivates me more. The fact that I'm not being given my fair shakes, or the fact that I'm being compared to the battalion idiot that just happens to be my god damned room mate!

As for that incompotent POS, well he left his weapon in the latrine, which eventually ended up in the S-3 SGM's hands. I'd have felt sorry for the poor bastard if he didn't have it comming. he had to dummy cord EVERYTHING! I mean it. His flag, nametape, eyepro (eventually) gloves, weapon, K-pot, all his ammo pouches. I mean EVERYTHING! It was actually kind of comicle, but really it was sad.

In the end, the sole highlight of the week was going to the range on friday. Even though it was 0 degrees outside. I almost froze off my fingers. Oh well. In the end there was absolutly nothing in this whole week that would have let me feel in anyway that I acomplished more than re-reading a Dune book.

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