"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.

Snazzy new PX

ok so I gotta say, the new Ft Riley PX which has been under construction forever and a day is pretty sanzzy! After exploring it for five seconds I thought to myself (rather stupidly) "I may never leave post again". Now I've never understood how Ft Sam, a small post, (but still home to MEDCOM) managed to warrent such a large PX and places like Riley and Schofield had such tiny ones! Still the new PX is a step in the right direction. The direction of not making Fort Riley suck so much.

I mean a game stop that looks like it has more stuff than the MALL! and patriot outfitters (an overpriced but still very good gear store) is right there with a fair sized shop. I'm seeing things in this little mini mall ad pretty decent prices that outside would cost about 10%-15% more. now if its just a dollar that's not but it adds up after a while. Bestr of all everytrhing has that new smell to it. I mean really when things are brand spanking new they smell AWSOME from leather to clothes to a whole damned store!

Unfortunatly you can't change the simple fact that YOUR IN KANSAS!!! I mean if you're into ag, more power to you but the young and the bold don't really like this rustic lifestyle, and most of the people that live here can't wait to get out to a faster pace of life. I mean it might have been fine in the fronteer days, but those days are long over, and any road trip on the back roads of Kansas will show you old broken down homs that look like they haven't seen maintnence since the Great Depression.

Lets face it. Ft. Riley, the Big Red One, whatever you want to look at it, no one wants to be here. However, modernizing the post, and making sure that people have at least *some* of the amenities of that faster pace of life is a step in the right direction. Now if the Army would actually make sense we'd all be a lot happier.

This will end in tears

Ok so I saw Doc Shomaker, and he's the first one to say it, I'm burned out. I suppose when its staring you in the face its kind of hard to deny. He does have a point in that I keep replaying things like a bad looping tape, but lets face it, if you were totally lacking purpose in your life, would you be doing much better?

Well today (friday) is a day off. We (FINALLY) get the three day weekend we were promised for AUSA subscription. $20 for a day away from the med platoon. . . TOTALLY worth it! I mean the last two weeks have been a nearly constant peepee smacking, and when that's not happening I'm sitting on my ass. SSG Tyra said it best, its hard to take pride in something when there's a lot of sitting involved.

Even though the Bn was on red cycle, we were still doing crazy training feild problems, and i guess i can understand why. We go to NTC soon and deploy soon after that, but the Med platoon can barely keep up and, really no offense or anything but Cpt Brock ain't exactly helping matters with the near constant panic mode. Lt Carmen is ok, but, well like most Lt's there are days when you have fantisies of violence that you can't really make happen.

So while the rest of Evac is neck deep in stuff sans Foxworthy, I am sitting on my ass not only feeling useless, but worse pointless. I don't honestly know what is worse. I am trying, but the hope and the giddyness I felt at comming back has fadded and I find myself close yet really far from my goal... being back on the line. It is beyond frusteration and the fact that I am just a wall fixture to my PA don't exactly help matters.

Now, there is an ill defined feild problem, which no one really has any idea what exactly we are doing. Worse than that, we are going for a week, and it seems no one else is going to be doing anything. Since I am not able to drive, and since I am not able to treat patients I am forced to conclude that I will be sitting on my ass in the feild for a week, and praying a stray bullet somewhere takes me out to end my misery. What am I talink about, I'm praying for that now.

I do not think this will end well for the Med platoon, and frankly I think it will end in tear for someone. Not exactly the tiumphant return I had hoped for. God I hate my life.

Getting away *finally*

Ok so presidents day is a 4 day weekend for soldiers. Its a good thing too, if they didn't have four days, I'm sure that soldiers would kill eachother long before we ever got in contact with the enemy. I asked my mom to come out on the 29th of January, and this past weekend she came out and we spent time in Kansas City. In truth I asked her out here on possibly the worst day in the unit so far. I was literally to the point of tears. I just needed someone to get my mind off things. All I can say is thank God she came. I was about to go absolutly batty.

She came on friday evening and left monday. We spent the whole time in the greater Kansas City area, right next to the Kansas speedway with that huge mall and the Cabellas. friday night was mostly just getting settled, and figguring out what we were going to do. we settled on going to see two plays, which were the cultured thing to do and something I wouldn't normally do.

The first one was at the "heartland theater" and it was called "Murder by the Book" it was a comedy about an author, and his wife who were trying to off eachother, and a secratary and a nabor that got caught in the middle. The publisher also had a part to play, but in all it was a horribly complicated "who done what to whom" and it was pretty funny. I actually enjoyed it. It also helped that they served booze which you could take into the theater. I don't think I'll ever get over the novelty of that.

The next day was definatly. . . different. We went to see Arabian Nights. Lets face it anyone that knows me and has actually read this blog knows that was probably a really bad idea. But I went anyway. It was not long before i was figiting and generally having a hard time. More than once I wanted to bolt for the exit, whcich isnt's too good because it was actually a good play. . . sort of. By the intermission I was having real trouble, and I just had to get out. Mom understood sort of but I could tell it really broke her heart. This was a hurt that no one, mother, friend or otherwise will ever be able to fix. she suggested we leave but i insisted we stay. the end they said as one "and the nights of Baghdad became brighter than the day" and they retracted the lights, and there was the sound of sirens. . .that really got to me. what am I supposed to say about that. . .

well skip foward to monday. Thankfully it was going to be a short day. We saw some sights, and got totally lost. Kansas City is not well marked out. Its one of those cities where you really need to know where you are and where you are going or you're going to get totally lost. the Union Station there is really interesting. Amazing archatecture, and the liberty thing right across the street is also something to see. It comemorates the end of WWI and is really an artistic masterpeice. I think we've lost something important, because you just don't see monuments designed that way anymore. After it was all said and done, I took her to the airport and drove home to get ready for the next week of FUN. The valuse of the weekend wasn't in the sights or sounds, it was in the concept that for just a little while, I was able to pretend I was a normal person.

Some kind of hell

I know its kind of really been a while since I posted last. Since then I've had just about the worst month of my career. Not only am I sucking at PT I also got an Article 15 for ammo in my room. Aome how 15 rounds of 5.56 mm got me 14 days of extra duty, when a year ago I had 210 rounds AND a weapon. I know it's a violation of article whatever whatever, but really who cares? The thought that it really matters is forign to me.



So for 14 days I was busting my ass at work and in my free time. Thankfully I didn't lose any rank or pay. But what really gets my goat, is that I confidded in my squad leader SGT Sutton, and he took it to the Aid Station NCOIC SSG Tyra, and i got a stern talking to about my motivation. As if I alone were the only one lacking motivation. It really pisses me off. I've gotten counciling statements about lack of motivation, and quitting on pt, and yadda yadda.



Then there was the thing with the mortars, and the "cold" injuries, that somehow got my status as an active medic revoked by Captain Brock. The only reason I came back to 2-16 was to take care of soldiers and HE TOOK THAT AWAY FROM ME!!! Worst of all there was no face to face, no explination, a simple "you're not practicing medicine in this battalion until the doc says so." WTF does that mean!?!? I'm so angry about it. The man is a mennace!

Well my life has turned to shit in record time. So I had to ask for mom to cvome out and visit to take my mind offf things. So far just the fact of her visit was enough to make it a *little* better. God I hate the army right now. I really can't wait to get out.

A New Year and an Old Familiar face

I think that its somewhat ironic that I begin this year exactly where I started the last one. 2/16 Rear D. To be sure I'm satying in a different room (by far the smallest I've had YET) but essentially I'm in the same position I was in before. It's kind of funny, before everyone left on Block leave (and wasn't there a flood to get the hell out of here) I saw SFC Hall, and CPT Hampton. The reactions were predictable, but amusing none the less. CPT Hampton lit up like a Christmas tree, and there was a lot of smiles all around. SFC Hall's expression said something akin to "oh no, not again" (just like that bowl of petunas)

Well the last two weeks have seen a lot of action. . . who am I kidding. The most stressful thing I had to do was fill out a leave form in 30 mikes or less (also had to add a pin to Mypay). Show up at 0630, do a little PT (and I do mean little) and then show back up at 0930, get talked to, and leave, final formation 1130 and for some reason a safety brief. . . EVERY DAY! Really I couldn't be more underwhelmed. But I know not all is roses. I get the distinct fealing that this is the calm before the storm.

I think the Highlight of my holidays was the package I got from Mom and Dad. The shotgun shell christmas lights were a real kick, and I liked them so much I put them up right away. I aslo got the Audio book for "Paul of Dune". Nice to see my folks still remember my obsession with the Dune Chronicles. The satalite radio. . . broke, but I'm going to buy a new one. Hopefully that will be the end of it.

CPT Brock is (somehow) still the PA, and SFC Hall can't have forgotten my "antics," there is also the matter of getting back into the PT regamin. Being on a deadman profile for 10 months, and the genral apathy that happened after that really didn't help matters any. Also though I think I am remembered fondly there are undertones of people thinking I'm a shitbag. Sadly this unit has a long long memory.

I've *tried* starting the liquid diet. The Medifast plan is five shakes a day a shit load of water and moterate excersize. It works, you drop pounds like a crack whore. . . but keeping to that diet is not easy. Its rather like tourture, and sadly the last time I did it the result was some. . . butterness. I hate to admit it but aside from women my greatest vice is food. I keep trying to eat things I know I shouldn't. *sigh* well lets hope it works out.

Moving. . . and My Own Personal Hell.

I am not good at moving. I think part of it is that I have that inate urge to stick my roots into a place and truly grow. Whatever the case, when the Army says Go, you have to go, and when they say. Sometimes they are patient, but most of the time its a "get your shit and get out" type of deal. This time is no exception. I have no one to help me through it, so my lack of planning has ended up costing me.

First I couldn't ascertain which unit I would be going to on the Hill (Custer Hill for those that have never been to Riley) so I will have to move twice. First to Replacement then to wherever I'm going to be on the Hill. Worse still the Out processing process had me just short of furious. Nobody knows anything. Well I finally decided that I had to just get a bigger storage unit, and that would have to be that. Unfortunately the 5x10 I was supposed to have is still occupied. so I get the bigger unit, WAY bigger 15x30 or something of the like, until the 5x10 becomes available.

Problem. . . The Ford Mustang wasn't exactly designed with Cargo in mind. Enter U-haul. As if the deal with Nook and Cranny not having the right sized storage unit weren't bad enough, here is the single worst bit of "oh God not again" to hit me yet. I put in a request for a 10' truck. They only had 26' available. Way more space than I needed. It handled worse than an LMTV, and that's saying something. The steering was looser than an Amsterdam whore, and the devil of a wind was blowing. I was white knuckling it the whole way. Dear god it was scary. But I got the 10' truck rate, so no harm no foul.

Of course I left my Mustang there. I saw no point for a $30 cab ride if I was coming back the next day. But now that its not here the 'Stang is sorely missed. Well I waited till it was pretty quiet and most of the cars were gone out of the parking lot. I kind of needed to because the Uhaul van turns like an old mule. After I pulled it up into the building area (on the side walk no less) I went on for about an hour of back breaking labor trying to move all my tote boxes and foot lockers. Let me tell you something you don't think it, but DVDs are heavy! After I was satisfied that I'd gotten everything, I drove the truch back to the parking spot i had for it. Then I was just sitting around and realized I FORGOT THE DAMNED TV!!! My lower back was already screaming but I lifted it, and took it out there. Its not heavy per se, but it is awkward as hell.

For some reason I can't sleep (big shock there), But I don't want to pack any more. I know I know its absolutely freaking amazing I am procrastinating. But every time I look at my room I see one more thing I forgot to do, one more thing I need to take care of, and it kind of sucks. everywhere I look there are three things to do, and I want nothing to do with it, but, like an idiot I waited and now look where I am. Awesome, Isn't it?


I suppose if there is one bright spot I've passed the year mark, and Erika and I haven't fallen out of touch. I'm shocked. Doesn't mean I'm actually a part of her life, or that we're dating, but its a start. Actually with all the on again off again, there's so much history that every time we have a serous discussion (which she avoids like the plague) there's enough recrimination on both sides we might as well be politicians. The really funny part is that part of the problem is ironically that we are both Ex crazy. Essentially we point to each others Ex and say "see, you loved them more than you loved me". To be honest I don't think she's ever given me enough time to find out how she feels about me or vice verse. Some of that is nursing school, some of that is distance, but a lot of it, is that I get too close.


First it was Lisa, then Andrea, now Jessi. Every Ex of min in recent memory is brought up as evidence. Lisa. . . well the hurt she caused, and the residual feelings is what broke us up the first time. Andrea, well the baby scare made her a little crazy and got us together the second time, but I started going PTSD again and she left as quick as she could before I dragged her down. Now its Jessi. The fact is that I was going to buy a ring for her and all that ment that she feels that she's the rebound girl. I haven't talked about marriage this time around, and after all the shit I've been through over the years I won't for a long time, but somehow she thinks I want to marry her so I won't be alone. I don't want a hallow marriage, I don't want a trophy wife, and I damn sure don't want a phoned in family. I want the real thing not a sub.

And of course there is the ever present need to "figure things out". People have been "figuring" things out for centuries Somehow I doubt she's going to have time for proper introspection, o suddenly have a *ding* moment. And as always that little man in greens is sitting there like a dark cloud with a nice big sign that says "deployment" or "PCS". She doesn't want me to go anywhere but she doesn't want me to get closer. Honestly, this is why wars are fought. Guys get so frustrated with women that they have to beat it out of each other.

I have a feeling that this will be the second Christmas in a row that I mark with little fanfare or celebration. As desperatly as I want to rekindle the Christmas Spirit I knew in my youth, it is hard. I know no one here, and even if I did, I'd never ask to spend Christmas with someone. Its not a matter of begging, though I suppose that is an element of it. It has a lot to do with the fact that its just so damn impolite to invite yourself. I think this is yet another case of my awkward social rules getting the best of me. I know intellectually that I am *usually* welcomed wherever I go. I know that *for the most part* I am remembered fondly by all that have known me. But just because I am friendly, does not mean I have friends. It wasn't until last Christmas that I realized how alone I was. And now. . . maters are worse.

I can not thing of anything I can possibly do to get in the mood. Christmas alone is. . . well hard. The whole point of this season is to come together. To be close to the ones you love, and to spread goodwill and peace to all. Alone that is nearly impossible. Hearing the wind howl outside my window, and accosted by the harsh halogen lights, it is impossible to feel the chirstmas spirit. There is no warm glo of a fire. No fresh snow outside. No love ones to get close to, and no one to share this time with. So another Christmas in the B's.


Oh one more thing. To all you Atheists that feel the need to incite people's religious fervor. KNOCK IT OFF!!! Christmas is the most sacred of Christian holidays. As Haunika is for the Jewish people. And the message should make y'all peacenick re-re's happy. PEACE ON EARTH AND GOOD WILL TOWARDS ALL MEN. I realize some Feminazi out there will take issue with the "men" part, but REALLY?!?! You God Damn hippies say Peace for 11 months out of the year regardless if the cause is just or not. You call honest men war mongers, and the ONE TIME that most of America will actually agree with you, you act like assholes and try to completely ruin the Holiday! ENOUGH!!! We tolerate you, and accommodate you, the ACLU, the "Council of Reason", Code: Pink, Planned Parenthood, and the like. You push and you push and you push. For once please, leave this one holiday alone. Is that really too much to ask?

Blackwater Trial: A dangerous precident

In recent news, there is a troubling trial brewing. The indictment of the 5 Blackwater Guards is another in a series of deeply troubling moves by the Criminal Justice system, and public perception of the war in general. First it was Haditha, then that recent case in LA, now Blackwater. So here's the Skinny. There were guards responding to an IED, which had hurt their fellow Blackwater Guards, in the process they entered a trafic circle.

As anyone knows, that's just about the most dangerous spot in an Iraqi city. What happens next is not exactly clear. When the dust settled 17 Iraqi Civilians were dead. The unit that responded found no evidence of enemy fire. It was apparently the subject of several investigations. To the Iraqis the case is clear. The men would have a semblance of a trial, but it is clear that if a guilty verdict and death sentence weren't handed down, the court might well be stormed by fanatics. Even though they have convicted and executed several Ba'ath party members, and people personally responsible for atrocities, I highly doubt the Iraqis would be impartial.

Sadly The Justice department in this country has become far less partial. Hidden behind a veil of laws that *technically* apply there is a clear case of lawers that are obviously anti-war trying to affect policy. Its bad enough that our own JAG is ready to jump in our asses over mistakes, now we have to worry about civilians getting up and whacking us if the military doesn't. So where does it leave us? what hope does the Blackwater crew have? I honestly don't want to think about it.

I know this much is clear, endless litigation and merciless prosecution of troops will lead to an Army, and contractors afraid to take up arms for this or any other country. The Anti-war crowd may just get their wish, an America that can't go to war. I just hope when my next tour comes around I don't run afoul of any JAG lawers trying to make a name for themselves.

Back In Kansas

Well after a day of flying I am back. . .in Kansas. . . oh freaking joy! Even before i got off the plane i felt how cold it was. Now I'm avoiding going outside at all, despite the fact that I'll need to eventually. I'll have to drive back to Riley. . .somehow. But the thought of even walking outside has me shuddering. Oh hell.

I want to do something. I got the itch, but i think I may end up not being able to do anything at all because no one is available. Dammit. Its a sad state of affairs that there isn't really anything to do. In my mind I'm still on vacation. So here I sit in MCI, up near a Burger King and a suburos, trying for the life of me to reach SOMEBODY before the battery on my Computer and my cell dies. I also REALLY don't want to get my car. Even though economy parking is cheeper than most spots, it doesn't mean cheep.

Also I am not looking froward to going back to the army as a whole. Out processing is not fun, no matter who you do it for. All the check lists, and all the forms, it's an ungodly nightmare. Plus I really have no clue how I'll get all my stuff up on the hill. Mustangs are great rides but not great for transporting stuff.

Well My battery is almost dead so I'm going to sign off and get outta here.

The homestead

The house in Fallbrook has always been something of a disaster area. Either the weeds are too high, and the dogs get foxtails in their noses or there are no weeds, or bushes of any other kind, and there is dust everywhere. Ther seems to be no happy medium, and don't get me started on all the crap . The family as a whole has managed to acquire so much junk that it puts all my foot lockers at fort riley to shame. Sadly some of these things, physical mementos and reminders of better days have been left exposed at one time or another to the elements and been tarnished by that exposure. I always feel a little disheartened coming home. Things continue to change and the landmarks of childhood, even if they were corporate, are fast disappearing.

What scares me most of all is that this is one of the last bastions that I can return to. Pretty much the only place I've taken leave to escape to, and every day I spend here I am acausted by the frailties of my parents. Far worse was the trip up to Watsonville. My Grandpa so far gone, that he is a shadow of his former self. All the stories that could have, and should have been told, lost now to the harsh and unrelenting progress of dementia, and possibly Alzheimer. Grandma, for all her opinions is just as bad. Her repeated questions about Kosovo, and so many other extremely BASIC issues left me feeling. . . old.

My parents bicker openly before me now, especially when it comes to driving. Patrick (my Brother) has taken the same do nothing hope it will all work out track that I once took and struggle with today. His mumbling has, if anything, gotten worse, and his wild aspirations made all the more unrealistic by the fact that the one thing he is truly good at these days is playing on his Xbox. It's truly disheartening.

The dogs, are not my dogs, though they certainly welcome me. Angel (Baraka's Grandson) is like a ghost. There are times he looks so much like Baraka that its truly scary, and i forget that it isn't my dog I'm looking at. Maddie, is so obsessed by food that she spent hours pawing at a kennel that had only a few bits of kibble in it. Windy is like a stranger to me even though i helped rais her as a puppy. and Sonka? dofus in the extreme, but not my dog. It seems Fred, the only NON-Ridgeback, is the only dog I really identify with. He sits, shakes and will love you forever just for a back rub. while playful he's not clumsy, or oafish. In short everything the Ridgeback is not. But he and Angel fight, and mom has neither the time nor energy to work with them. Hense he's got to go. Such a shame. He is a good dog, and it seems he found a home he likes.

I realized durring this trip that no matter where I will stray my heart will always long for that city by the bay. San Diego, for all its faults is my home, and I miss her so. The smell of the sea, the harbor so full of sights and things to do. The fog that rolls in in the morning, and burns off to reveal clear crisp days. How could I, a wayard travler not love it for all that it is. Kuwait, that flat featurless sand pit makes me realize there are such places as hell on Earth. If that is so then San Diego must be heaven. Never too hot, never too cold. I think my greatest woe in returning home is realizing that, eventually, I must leave again. Oh to stay.