Sarin Gas in Iraq

They would have to start finding this stuff right when I am going to go there.
The New York Times > International > Middle East > U.S. Finds Shell With Nerve Gas in Iraq

I don't promise heroics

If you watch the news, you might have heard something about troop rotations in Iraq. Understandably, soldiers everywhere listen for this type of news closely. Their families and friends watch and listen fearfully, dreading the inevitable news that someone they know will go. Right now is a very fearful time to be in the military.
If you have been living in fear on my behalf, thanks. There is no more need to fear my going to Iraq. I leave for Iraq in August. I am not coming home first. It's done. Second brigade from the Second Infantry Division is sending 3,600 troops (the entire brigade) to Iraq this summer. My unit, the 1st of the 503rd Infantry Regiment is an air assault battalion in 2nd Brigade.
I promise you one thing. You will be proud to claim me. I will not shame you. Cowardice will not prevent me; incompetence will not hinder me; frustration will not cloud my judgment; boredom will not lower my guard; and hardship will not slacken my resolve. Realistically, I can't promise all of these things. I am only human, but I promise you my best. I don't promise heroics; heroes die and I assume that everybody wants me to come back. I am coming back.

Salt Lick

People always get the wrong idea. I suppose I am very busy giving them the wrong idea but other people's lack of perception is not my concern. There are two schools of thought on my "love life" (or lack thereof). Some people think I am Don Juan reincarnated. Then there are the people who know me and think they know better. That's just my male friends.
So I licked my boss's girlfriend's back Saturday night. It was completely innocent, I assure you. At least as innocent as it could have been with as much alcohol as we had consumed between us. I ran into her late Saturday night at a club in downtown Seoul. I recognized her, called her by name and she was happy to hang out with me. We danced for a while, until the DJ announced a contest requiring couples. She immediately grabbed my hand and said we should compete. I agreed. Well, it was a "sexiest body shot" contest and my boss's girlfriend was looking me directly in the eyes and telling me earnestly, "I think the sexiest body shot would be with my ass facing you and you licking the salt off my back." When a beautiful woman is telling me where to put my mouth on her body I tend to not think twice.
The other contestants were an unattractive white couple, and a Korean couple. Supposedly, two girls were going to compete as a couple but I didn't see them. We went first. The best part wasn't licking the salt off her back, and that was good; but taking the lime from her mouth was almost too much. How our lips met around the lime I do not know, but they did, repeatedly. The unattractive couple won. I can't remember what they actually did for their body shot but the girl exposed her fat midriff and large breasts to incite the crowd. Even the Korean girl's exposed nipples couldn't elicit more cheers from the unruly, classless mob in the club.
It didn't occur to me that explaining my actions to my boss would be a problem until later, when his girlfriend started telling me how she felt guilty. Even then, the concept of guilt was far removed from my mind. Casually, I made a mental note not to tell him anything about meeting his girlfriend, but I didn't dwell on the ramifications of what I was doing. She went on to say that she shouldn't dance with me anymore because she was beginning to feel "close" to me. So we kept dancing anyway, despite her protestations and any misgivings I was beginning to have. I didn't realize how drunk she was until she dropped the shot glass on the dance floor. She left pretty quickly after that but not before telling me how I was "beautiful".
I only feel comfortable telling this story because she called my boss and told him the next day. My boss brought me into his room and told me to get into the "front leaning rest". I assumed the push-up position as he spoke on his cell to his girlfriend. "Did you fuck my girlfriend?" He asked.
"Negative," I responded.
"Did you touched her boobies?"
"Negative."
"Did you lick salt off her back?"
"Yes."
My boss had a good laugh at my expense. His girlfriend promised to punish him for playing the prank. He's been laughing ever since.
So now I have a reputation as someone that you shouldn't leave a girl unattended with; and you know what I don't mind.

CBS News Killed a man today

Jonah Goldberg: Media ethics, consistency questionable in release of photos

Women can't live with 'em

One simply cannot understand the profound effect women have in the military without living in an infantry battalion. The deep loneliness and desperation men live with when separated from their wives, mothers, and girlfriends is enough to drive sane men to distraction. Consider that a large percentage of the younger soldiers have never lived more than five minutes from their mothers and consider the psychological burden of the average soldier.
Do you want to know the number one reason why soldiers extend to stay in Korea? Women - from personal observation the overwhelming majority of male soldiers extend because they have met a woman somewhere in Korea that they do not want to be separated from. Informal research among my peers puts the ratio of women to men in Korea right at thirteen to one. Thirteen to one is terrible odds on a Friday night in a club. Meeting a worthwhile woman in Korea is nothing short of a miracle.
Introduce into this volatile mixture of simmering masculinity and sexual frustration the average female soldier and you have a recipe for disaster. The average soldier is isolated from easily available female companionship for months at a time. The presence of a small number of females produces chaos in military discipline. I am veering dangerously close to saying something that Army brass might disapprove of and shut down my weblog (thereby guaranteeing me millions of hits in the blog's demise) but the truth is the role of women needs to be reduced. When push comes to shove, soldiers simply ignore any and all rules the Army makes regarding sex and gender that get in the way of satisfying their needs for companionship. The men forget wives, children, morals, the threat of heavy punishment, etc for that one supreme moment of satisfaction. The women by turns submit to, exploit, and are exploited by the male soldiers. I'd like to think everyone involved was capable of adult behavior but the answer is obviously no.
Men can cope when women are not present. They buy pornography, write letters, make phone calls, go on leave, etc. Introduce a single woman to the mix with her own desires, longings, and profound loneliness, and there will not be a single man among thousands who will be satisfied till he has known that woman carnally. The rules regarding sexual behavior in the military are futile and laughable. You cannot force men and women to live together and not expect them to have sex. Not in this day and age. Just let it happen. Don't try to manage sex like another variable in a vast and incomprehensible battlefield simulation. Let it go.
In the end, the problem with women in the military is that women are necessary. It would be simply impossible to have enough soldiers without women. Yet, integrating women has caused problems the Army and the military at large refuses to acknowledge that are destroying the Army as an American institution. It's the classic sexual paradox, "Women, you can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em."

Combatives

I have just finished giving and taking various beatings for morning PT - in the Armyu we call it "combatives". The medical and scout platoons in battalion received instruction in jujitsu and boxing and I learned that I do not have a second career as a boxer. My strategy is to let the other guy get tired (of beating me silly) then try to knock him out. It works, but it doesn't win style points. It's also painful. My only boxing match was against my roommate. I had some reservations about fighting him; but he obviously didn't. He immediately proceeded to beat me like a rented mule. I backed away covering my face and chest till he tired. He did. Before I could finish the job, he quit. I was robbed of my moment of glory.

Ping

Ping

Command Sergeant Major's Farewell Dinner

It is not often that you go to a mandatory military function and leave feeling as if the time spent was worthwhile but I think tonight was once. CSM Hayward Thompson is leaving the battalion and the military; tonight was his official farewell. I feel ashamed at my reluctance to participate. CSM Thompson is a great man. At first brush he seemed severe and aloof, but over time I realized how personable and caring he really was. I am not sure how but I think he knew every one of his soldier's names and something about their personal life. He cared. He really honestly cared. It is strange how much that still means.

Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.

Contentment is being at peace with who you are. Happiness, ultimately is joy or pleasure in something outside outside of yourself. One could argue with my definitions, but none can argue that happiness brings contentment or that contentment brings happiness. Many things make people happy but few bring contentment. At the same time, contentment does not guarantee happiness - many people are content with less than happy circumstances. It is well known that all the joy and pleasure in the world cannot satisfy or bring contentment.
My life as it stands, makes me happy. I like my job. My coworkers are generally pleasant people. I enjoy my time off. I am further from being content than the heaven is from hell. I am searching for that something indefinable, something vague, something that makes me say "that's it!". Since I don't know what or who or where it is, I am in for a long search. I like being a medic, but I'd rather fly. I'd love to fly, but I want to be in special ops too. Special Ops would be cool, being a spy would be cooler. Speaking Spanish would be fun; Mandarin Chinese would be the icing on the cake. Being James Bond for a living would be great, but playing sports would be fun too. Playing sports would make me happy for a while, but not for long. Programming games for a living would be great, but I can't see doing it all my life. In the end it's all vanity. It's all transient, nothing really matters in the end. It's just like in the Bible: Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.

Pat Tillman Dead

For once, I am truly saddened by news of the death of a celebrity. Pat Tillman, a former NFL player who turned down a 3.6 million dollar contract to join the Army as a Ranger, died today.

Boorish Healthcare Thought

More women would discover breast cancer early if they got their boyfriends involved in their weekly breast exams.

Playboy lifestyle

I am spending entirely too much money on material goods. I just recieved my household goods, consisting mostly of books and clothes. I just threw away 6 trashbags full of clothes and books I no longer wanted and I still can't walk on the floor because of the clothes, books and shoes scattered in my room. The sad thing is that I just spent an astronomical amount of money on more clothes and shoes. I am going to be broke, but I am going to be well dressed by God. At this rate, I will be forced to find a second job to fund my lavish Playboy lifestyle.

Spring in the land of the Morning Calm

It turns out spring around Camp Casey is picturesque too. I just got back from yet another field problem. The world hasn't changed much while I was away apparently.

Horny, Hungry, and Hateful

For the average infantry soldier to be effective he must be horny, hungry, and hateful. Soldiers are much like guard dogs - too much petting spoils them. The shocking truth is that the average soldier is a powder keg of testosterone (male and female), physical energy, and unfocused malice. The idea is to not stand too close when we explode. The Army has known this for time immemorial but lately leadership seems to be taking a different tack.
I made a day trip to Seoul today (HAPPY EASTER everybody!) and visited Yongsan Army Garrison. I left in disgust. The soldiers there are fat, happy, and satiated. Cascades of pink blossoms showered soldiers driving (they had cars) down the tree lined avenues. I hope the North Koreans hit them first.

Weapons of Mass Destruction

Even google can't seem to locate them.
This is what one would see if one were to type "weapons of mass destruction" into the google search box and click "I'm feeling lucky".

Missing

I really miss some of the friends I made in basic training and AIT. I don't want to mention them by name, but I'd give the world to see them all again. That can't happen, so the best I can do is try to track them down myself. If they're reading I'd like to say: I miss you David, David, (there are two who don't know each other but both were great battle buddies) Katie (she's real chummy with the first David), Jennifer (how are my people in Georgia?), Deborah, Rachel, Kristin (I hear Kill Bill: Vol. 2 is coming out soon; want to go see it with me?), Paul, Jill, Jessica (Georgia again), and the OG (the important people know who the OG is).
There are more but I'll have to leave them out. They are not any less important but time and my need to sleep will not allow me to list them. I really, really miss them right now. I had a lot of fun training with them and I could have had a whole lot more fun if I'd realized what I was missing.

I am the inevitable sum of my forebear's parts

I hate talking on the phone to my Dad. I love him beyond my capability to use hyperbole to describe, but talking to him on the telephone is a chore. Every conversation, since conversations between us are rare, must include a lecture lasting no less than twenty minutes on how I must take care off myself and how I must succeed by doing the right things and not trusting anyone. Dad does have a way of dropping interesting tidbits. I am very sad to report that my great-uncle died recently. I didn't know him, had never even heard his name mentioned until today. He lived comfortably in London but died alone. He had some spat with the rest of the family and had moved to London to separate himself. My Dad is currently making arrangements to retrieve the body. His death prompted my Dad to tell me that he thought I might not see him again before he died. Long separations seem to be a pattern in my family. My Dad was separated from his father 23 years and didn't see him again before he died. I confess that I didn't plan to visit very often.
Even more surprising was my father's query: "Who told you that your grandfather was a medic in the army?" My answer was "No one". I didn't know. Yet, now I am a medic in the Army. Everything I am, everything I do, down to the very way, I walk, I smell, I talk, I think, is only a recreation of what my Dad and his father are and have done before. It's as if my fate is inevitable. I could know my future by learning my father's past. I am so much like my Dad I'd almost swear that I am his clone. My mother could predict my Dad's taste by asking me first. I look so much like my Dad that people would see my Dad and swear it was me driving around only older.
I have some strange or maybe not so strange ideas about time. I believe that time is a math problem. The solution is difficult perhaps but inevitable. People are just variables moving irresistibly toward a solution that is not yet known. The implication is that the problem can be solved. I don't know if the solution is constant or variable but I know the solution exists. What this all means or matters I don't know, but I know the solution exists.
Wow that was such complete BS.

Recent AIM Conversation

Here's a snippet from a recent instant message conversation with a friend:

me: but my life is busy busy
friend: savin the world and what not
me: actually yeah kind of
me: as part of a collective effort I actually do believe I am saving the world

Have you been reading this blog lately?

I haven't! I fear my writing output has been sporadic lately and I also haven't been editing very carefully. I can't get stats on who has been reading due to technical difficulties but I know readership has been down. What am I going to do to fix the problem? Nothing! I have other business to attend to.

Big Guns

So I got into a fight Sunday. Its not clear if there were any real winners or losers in this fight. The truth is that there never are, but in the court of public opinion I whupped some serious ass and looked cool doing it. My squad leader (? It's actually not clear what his professional relationship is to me, he's really just another NCO in the platoon) was leading the morning run and mentioned how he saw some "big guns go off Sunday. Some artillery rounds landed, but I didn't see any jabs... Throw some jabs". I replied with a "Hooah Sergeant!" I will next time.
I am actually angry at myself for being drawn into a fight, but the other party pretty clearly provoked me and everybody knows he doesn't like me, since I told them before. He doesn't have any real reason I can think of for not liking me; at least not any reasons I can think of that I can mention without opening a huge can of worms. I am willing and prepared to open the can though and I wish he knew that. I can make just as much trouble as him only I prefer to go about it in a different way.
I want desperately to ask him some questions. "Why for someone who is obviously not stupid are you so unswervingly belligerent?" "What good reason do you have to be angry with me?" I've done some things that could make a reasonable person angry, but I've also done everything I could to make them right. "Why don't any of your friends seem to be angry with me?" If I really was such a bad person someone else would probably come out and say so? I don't know maybe I am just a stellar politician. I do know that I am more popular than he is. I am hoping that no one is on his side, naturally.
I even went and knocked on his door today to give his roommate something. When he answered the door my natural reaction was to kill him but my entire life has been about suppressing my animal urges and my natural reactions. I believe in self-control. Even he showed some measure of self control and didn't try to strangle me.
In the meantime, I am a little sore but my pride is intact. I was already planning on taking martial arts classes, I'll just begin tomorrow. (Which is what I have been saying for weeks, but I mean it now. Seriously...)