Platoon Squad Lanes

There’s something incredibly soothing about listening to the rain. Especially when you’re dry and able to sit in a chair, under a covered walk-way, just outside your room and watch the rain and lightening and listen to the thunder. It’s almost intoxicating. Mississippi has the most incredible rain storms – so much rain in such a short period of time. They’re like the rainstorms we’d have in the Dominican Republic when I was on my mission. But then, I guess that’s what you get when you live so close to the ocean. We had so much rain during one rain storm that a couple of our officers rooms almost got flooded. The water crept to within a couple of inches of going over the thresholds into their rooms.

The last couple of days we’ve been conducting squad lane training. That’s where we learn to conduct patrols through various scenarios – dangerous locations, crossing roads, traveling through villages, open terrain, etc. We start early but get done early which is nice as it has allowed me to sit outside my room and watch the rain.

The squad lanes are the most physically demanding training we’ve undertaken so far and should be the most physically challenging things we do here. Actually, it’s the first day that’s the most challenging. From a previous posting you’ll remember that I talked about learning about doing the low crawl, high crawl and rush tactics. Well this is where we implemented that training, only we had a much further distance to go.


We low crawled about 10 meters under barbed wire. We did it four at a time and it was fun to watch the high-speed guys who took the training literally. We were taught that you keep your face turned to the side and planted on the ground and you simply reach out in front of you and pull yourself forward. You don’t want to risk getting your head shot so you don’t lift it up. Well a couple of guys did just that – didn’t lift their heads or look where they were going so they crossed into the neighboring lane. It was fun to watch. I admit that I didn’t actually lift up my head and look. I just realized that as long as I was crawling through the dirt, I was in the right lane. If you ended up in the weeds, you had moved out of your lane.

So to get a visual, you’re lying completely flat on your IBA. You position your rifle across your arm so as to keep it out of the dirt. (Of course that’s not always possible. I did an OK job but my pistol – I have it on a leg holster, worked itself under my thigh so I was dragging it through the dirt. As you can imagine, it was filthy.) You have one leg bent to push with and the opposite arm out in front of you to pull you along. Your head is turned on its side looking sideways. Then you pull and push yourself along. It’s actually harder that it sounds. By the time I was done with that portion, I was dripping in sweat and sucking air and that was only the first portion of the exercise.

After the low crawl, we high crawled a further distance from sandbag location to sandbag location. Different technique. You straddle your rifle in the crook of your arms and crawl on your elbows and knees, trying to keep your butt down. As I reached one sandbag, I noticed the tell-tale signs of a Black Widow web. By now, you know how much I hate spiders, but I was proud of myself and did not freak out. I had made sure that I had my gloves on and had tightened down the cuffs of my sleeves just so that nothing creepy or crawly could get to me.

As we completed the low crawl, we then came to the rushing portion. We would jump up, move forward at a rapid pace for 3-5 seconds and fall to the ground at various sandbag locations. It takes the average person 3-5 seconds to get a bead on you so as long as you’re not up for more than that amount of time, you have a better chance of making forward progress. Then, as you’re ready to move to the next position, you roll one way or the other so as to throw the enemy off – so that you don’t get up from the same location that you went down at, get up and sprint forward another 3-5 seconds. OK, confession time, I actually went further than 3-5 seconds. I was feeling like a total FOG that I went 2-3 sandbag locations before I actually dropped. That way I got through that portion of the course faster. I think the “infantry tactic gods” were not too pleased with that as during one “rush” I tripped on something and went crashing to the ground. You’d be proud of me though, I tucked my shoulder and rolled right over and came out on my stomach. I had my Camelback strapped to my back and it survived. I say that only as another of our high-speed soldiers also did the same thing. Only, he’s about 100 lbs heavier than I am and as he rolled over onto his Camelback, it popped and all the water gushed out all over him. It’s a good thing that he’s the supply sergeant and can get himself another one.

After the rush, we had to crawl under a barbed wire fence on our backs. Since I didn’t want to take a chance on popping my Camelback like I’d just seen happen, I did it on my side. OK, I cheated on that one too. So what are you going to do to punish me? Send me to Afghanistan?

Then came another “rush” section only this time we did it in pairs. We’d cover the guy in the lane next to us as he’d rush to a sandbag location. Then he’d cover me as I ran to a position beyond him. We leapfrogged like that for 20 meters or so until we came to a position of cover – a pallet standing on its side. Then came the final challenge – the WALL.

It was about 8 feet high. It had several sandbags stacked in front of it so that you could stand on them and “take a peek over the top” to see what was on the other side. We were told to use the buddy system to get over and as I approached I was thinking, “where’s the crane to lift my fat old body over?” Well as I established my position of cover at the pallet, it was my turn to assault the wall. My “buddy” – not SGT Aaron, came behind me. SGT Aaron would have helped me over but this guy just stood there and watched. Jerk. Actually, I’m glad he didn’t help. I’m proud to say that as I stood on the sandbags, I was able to jump, yes jump, with my IBA, a full Camelback, my pistol strapped to my leg and my rifle, up enough to get a good handhold on the wall, was able to pull my leg up and swing it over the wall. Hooah!! (That’s an Army thing. It means “yes,” “I understand,” “success” and whatever else you want it to mean. Instructors will often say “hooah” after a sentence or two and expect you to respond with a “hooah” just so they know that you’re “tracking” – paying attention.) As I got over the wall, I was supposed to help my “buddy” get over. For a brief moment I thought, “You didn’t help me so I’m not going to help you.” He had a harder time. It took him a couple of tries before he got a leg up that I could grab onto and help him.

After we scaled the wall, we took up a defensive perimeter and pulled security. We were able to strip off our IBAs. What a welcome relief. You wear the IBA strapped as tight to you as possible as it relieves pressure off the shoulders. The effect is that you can’t breathe very well. Remember the scene from “Pirates of the Carribbean” where Elizabeth can’t breath and finally due to the lack of oxygen falls off the wall into the ocean, well that’s how I was feeling. I was sucking so much wind, or at least attempting to, that I was ripping that thing off as fast as I could just to catch a decent breath.

With all that exertion, being strapped in the oven that we call and IBA, with the humidity being extremely high that morning, we all continued to sweat profusely. I can honestly say, I have never been so wet with sweat in my entire life. I could not find a dry piece of clothing anywhere. Even my boots were wet with sweat. I've got a "skull-cap" that I wear under my helmet to keep the sweat from dripping into my eyes. It does a pretty good job, but once it gets soaked, it can't do much more. Throughout the morning, I would wring it out and I was literally getting 3-4 ounces of persperation out of it. Pretty disgusting. I was hoping that I would dry out a little as we sat through another class, but I just kept sweating. We were sitting on logs for the class and as the sweat dripped off me, I would try and aim the sweat drops at the ants crawling around in the dirt underneath me. I know, you’re thinking how gross but it’s amazing the things you do to entertain yourself.

Tomorrow, in addition to more squad patrol techniques, we get to react to sniper fire. We'll be issued blanks so will actually get to shoot. That's always fun. The last day we conduct an all-out assault against a target, again shooting blanks. It should be a great learning experience as well as a lot of fun.

That training takes four days. We start at 6:00 a.m. which means I have to get up by 4:00 a.m. but the nice thing is that we’re done by noon or so. Which leads me full circle to the rain. I had hung my sweaty, dripping uniforms outside my room to dry and air out and proceeded to fall asleep. I was awakened by the thunder and the sound of rain on the roof. At first I didn’t realize what it was, but then jumped out of bed and went out and got my uniform before it got too wet. It had been hanging there for almost three hours so was almost dry.

Anyway, I just sat there for 10-15 minutes watching the rain feeling quite blessed that we were not out in the field working some lane in the pouring rain because “training does not stop for the rain.”

Combat JAGs

This is me and my two combat JAGs. 1LT Dusty Kawai and MAJ Paul Waldron. They're great guys and great JAGs.

The guys on my team are calling me "Jag-Wayne" because of the way I wear my chin strap a la John Wayne from his WWII movies. I hate that thing so let it hang loose as often as I can, as you can see from this picture.

IV - CLS Certification

As I mentioned in a previous posting, I was looking forward to the experience of administering and IV into the arm of a lucky victim. I had a feeling of some trepidation all afternoon. I don’t really like needles that much – but then who does other than a drug user – but I digress. We got some excellent instruction on how to do it as well as some great tips from our small-group instructor. We then divided up into pairs and got to work. We were outside on the grass and I was the give-or the first time. (I don’t have any picture of me giving the IV so you’ll have to take my word for it. Actually, everyone around me was working and couldn’t take one for me.) The LT who was my partner, had great veins. After flexing his arm with the restricting band on, his veins were just begging to be stuck. I followed the instructions to the “T” and slipped that needle into his arm without any problem. I got the catheter in just fine. Then I pulled out the needle and he began to ooze blood. Not unexpected as I hadn’t put on the saline lock or an IV bag. (The saline lock is a device that you can put on before you put on the IV bag. It stops the flow of blood. You can then tape that to the patients arm and later come back and administer the IV.) It was a little disconcerting and I got momentarily flustered looking for the saline lock so he bled more than I’d have liked. He was a good sport though. After I got the saline lock on, I got him taped up and had the instructor check my work to that point. Then we had to flush the saline lock with saline from the IV bag and then insert the IV into the lock, get a good saline drip, show the instructor and then we were done. It was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be so if anyone needs an IV now, I’ll feel like I could actually do it. (As we train in the heat and humidity, if anyone suffers from heat exhaustion or becomes a heat casualty, that’s one of the first things we do when administering first aid – stick them with a saline IV to get their body fluids up.)

After I finished, the LT got up and we were both amazed at the pool of blood that had formed under his arm. There were ants all over the place and he was being eaten while he was laying there. They loved him for some reason. They didn't bother me fortunately. Anyway, a few minutes after he got up, we looked at his blood pool, and it was swarming with ants. It was morbidly fascinating watching that boiling ant mass. OK, sorry for grossing you out.


It was then my turn to get stuck. He did a good job. It didn't hurt, just a little discomfort as he pushed the catheter into my arm. I didn't bleed as much as he did so was grateful for that.

There was about 80 of us spread all over the grass doing IV's. It was like a mini-trauma center.

I can now say that I am a “combat lifesaver” as I got a 95% on the written exam and passed all the practicals. The practicals consisted of conducting a patrol and coming upon a unit that had taken casualties. The injuries ranged from road rash – my patient – to an amputated foot, to extensive gunshot wounds – those were my injuries when I was playing the patient, etc. The injured are given a card with a color photograph of an injury on the front with a written description of the injury on the back. (Some of the pictures are pretty gross, especially the double leg amputee and foot amputee. They’re mannequins but they look incredibly real. The instructor said that the fleshy, blood-oozing wounds were actually deer meet. They were disgusting.) As the combat life saver (CLS) would approach the patient, we had to do an initial assessment and try to discover the problem before the injured patient would give us his card. Of course, in real life some of the injuries would be obvious, but we needed to go through the routine.

When it was my turn to play CLS, we actually came under sniper fire from an injured enemy so myself and another officer got to deal with him. It was fun. The “enemy” put up a good fight as we struggled to take away his weapons to the point that I just about took the butt of my rifle and was going to give him a “butt-stroke” to the head – pretend of course, but we didn’t have to get to that point.

It was a good class.

Mounted Combat Patrol, Base Defense, Reflexive Fire

It’s been another busy week or so since I last posted anything. We’ve spent several days in the field. We were supposed to actually spend a couple of nights in the FOB (forward operating base) but there are so many soldiers already there that there wasn’t room for us. I so had my heart set on sleeping in a hot tent for two nights fighting the bugs. But darn it all, I had to come back to my room and take a shower in my private bathroom.

We were working on mounted combat patrol and base camp defense operations. Mounted combat patrol is where there’s a convoy of armored humvees, with gunners in the turrets, conducting convoy operations. We would travel through the range, looking for IED’s, reporting those that we found, requesting permission to take an alternate route, respond to exploding IED’s by taking evasive action, etc., treating our wounded, requesting medical evacuation, engaging the enemy at various points on the range from our vehicles as well as getting out to engage the targets. It was a lot of fun.

LTC James Slagowski, Slag, was our team commander, but because he was in the turret, I got to act as the team commander. What that meant is I got to communicate with the OC’s (trainers), give orders on where to go, what to do, radio in reports, etc. Because it was such a small range and things happened so fast, I often would be in the middle of one report when I needed to start another one. For example, I had to report every time we engaged an enemy. After the engagement, I had to report the weapons, equipment and casualty status of our team. I had to report when we encountered IED’s and request permission to take a different route. I had to report whenever we had a casualty and request medical evacuation. Several of these reports have very specific requirements of things that must be reported. Fortunately I have a couple of cheat-sheets with the information on them. It was just that so much information had to be conveyed and as I said, things happened so fast, it seemed like all I did was talk on the radio. The second day, I was concentrating so hard on getting the correct information relayed, that I didn’t realize that we’d been hit with and IED and that one of our guys had been injured. By the time I was aware, it was after Slag had gotten out of the turret, was administering first aid and had to yell at me to get my attention to get up in the turret to man the weapon. Never having used the radios to make reports before, it was a great learning experience. Now I’m not so nervous about tackling that job.

The base camp defense operation involved our three teams defending a “base camp” from the enemy. The first group took up defensive positions along our outer cordon. They were in two towers and various buildings. We were warned that when we were in the towers and buildings we needed to be careful as they were locations where Black Widows and Brown Recluse spiders were known to make their homes. I hate spiders so was hoping that I wouldn’t have to go in them. I didn’t. However, as we were picking up brass casings, I saw a couple of Black Widows in their webs, but no Recluses. I only saw them in my dreams that night. I kept dreaming that they were crawling on my headboard and I’d wake up, sit up, turn on the light and only then realizing that I was dreaming. I hate spiders!!!

The second team, our team, acted as medics, ammo resupply guys as well as being available to move up to assume the primary positions. The third team was in the rear in their armored humvees. They were the quick reaction force (QRF). When we got low on ammo, we called in the “calvary” and they came roaring in and engaged the enemy from their vehicles as well as dismounted positions. It was a cool exercise. The first night we did it with blanks so that we could work out the kinks without endangering anyone. The second night was with live fire.

SGT Aaron and I were the primary litter team. The first night, when a soldier went down, we ran up and tried to lift him using the cross-armed carry technique. It was harder that I expected. Then, SGT Aaron being younger and faster took off at a brisk trot. It was all I could do to keep up. I finally had to tell him that I couldn’t run that fast. As we reached our destination – about 25 yards away – I know, that’s nothing, but remember, I’m a FOG, I about dropped our guy. The CLS (combat life saver) guys and SGT Aaron took over and began to administer first aid. I just stood there sucking breath. I was a pretty pathetic sight. After I got my breath I assisted as much as I could.

The second night, an even bigger guy was the casualty. It took 5 of us to get him back to the CLS guys. SGT Aaron started dragging him by the scruff of his neck through the rocks – there’s a handle on our IBA on the neckline, but he didn’t get too far. We had to pick him up by the neck handle as well as the arms and legs. Then, when we got him to the medevac location, the CLS guy stuck him three different times, trying to get and IV inserted. This guys veins were so hard to locate, that the CLS guy was unsuccessful. All he did was poke him in three different locations.

Another days training involved “reflexive fire” training - walking through a “village” and responding reflexively to pop-up targets, engaging the targets, all while on the move. Because of the optical/laser sites on our M4’s it made it easier to hit the targets. I didn’t have to focus through the sites, but simply had to put the laser dot on the target and squeeze the trigger. The 9M was much more difficult. We worked on holding the 9M in the low ready, down in front of us, and simply raising our arms towards the target, and squeezing the trigger. Believe me, it’s harder than the movies make it look. It takes concentration and the ability to raise the gun in a smooth level manner and getting it in the center of mass. I had to learn to quit shooting into the sandbags in front of the target. It was still a lot of fun.

Those of us not CLS certified, are now in the class to become certified. Of course, it’s an additional class, after hours, after we’ve already had a long day. The first night – last night – was death by PowerPoint for several hours. The material was obviously important, but it was hard to really pay attention after having spent the whole day in the field. However, I’m proud to say, I stayed awake the whole evening. Tonight and tomorrow we’ll be doing the hands-on part. Tonight, everyone will get to administer an IV as well as being the recipient of an IV. They told us that if we haven’t been drinking enough fluids, it makes it hard to find the vein. So the obvious suggestion was that we all drink plenty of fluids today. I’ve been drinking so much that I feel like I’m living in the bathroom. I just hope that whoever sticks me does a good job. I’m sure whoever I stick is thinking the same thing. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Small Pox

We all have to get tested for small pox. If you were immunized as a child, as I was, you get 15 pricks with a very small needle. It injects the virus into your skin where it grows into this disgusting, weeping pustule. I'm still in the growing stage. It hasn't started to "weep" yet. Can hardly wait until that happens.

I had the test done 6 days ago and this is what it looks like. If you think it's gross, you should see it in person.

I have to keep a bandaid on it for 2 weeks. After that, I can take the bandaid off for an hour or so at a time to help it dry out. It's supposed to eventually turn into a "cornflake" and fall off.

Can't wait till that happens.

Sorry if this grosses you out, but I thought my boys might like it. Probably not.

Happy 4th and Latest Cool Stuff

As America celebrated her birthday with parties and fireworks, so did we. OK, no fireworks, but we ate ourselves silly. We had a couple of days off which was well received. Several of the guys flew their wives out and were able to spend some quality time with them. Jerks!! All of ‘em!! Even SGT Aaron. The all showed up at work on the 5th with big stupid grins on their big stupid faces. Those of us without such reasons to be smiling wanted to wipe those big stupid grins right off. OK, I’m just jealous!

I was not alone though, for the holiday. My good friend, Jeff McIntosh, drove up from Houston and spent a day with me. He drove 8 hours on Sunday. I took him to dinner that night - the food was less than outstanding but the company was great. I tried to get him a room in my complex but was told that all the rooms were going to be filled the next day so I couldn't get him one. He had to sleep on the floor on an air mattress. Oh well. I'm just glad that he was able to come up.

We had a command barbecue the afternoon of the 4th. One of our officer’s brothers is a professor here at the local university. He brought venison brauts, his catfish fryer and pounds of catfish, and a dozen or more watermelon. MWR (morale, welfare and recreation) provided burgers, dogs, beans, potato salad, drinks and chips. We had more food than we knew what to do with. I had reserved a pavilion near my quarters as well as bought some extra chips, drinks and the charcoal. Our supply section the S-4 section, made all the arrangements with MWR, getting the food as well as a volleyball net and softball equipment. In our house, there’s a long standing joke, actually it’s a fact; whenever I plan a barbecue it rains. Always, always happens. And this time proved to be no exception. For the two days previous and for the next week, there’s a tropical front moving through the area and sure enough, thick, black clouds began building around 3:30 p.m. – we started at 3:00 – and by 5:00 you could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. We were just about done anyway but the lightening in the sky convinced the softball players to give it up. We rushed to get everything packed and moved but didn’t quite make it. Huge drops of rain began falling…and falling…until it became a downpour. The thunder was incredibly loud and the lightening lit up the sky despite the fact that it was still daylight. My room was only 100 yards from the pavilion but since I had to make a couple of trips back and forth, I was soaked by the time things were completely cleared up. It was a lot of fun though and quite the say to end the day.

I was in bed by 8:30 that night and asleep by 9:00 p.m. so didn’t get to see any fireworks. Why so early, well, because I had to be up at 4:00 a.m. the next morning. We’d turned in our M9 and M4 to be stored in our supply section’s vault. Since our training the next day started at 6:00 a.m., we had to draw our weapons from supply before we started training. That’s the earliest I’ve had to get up since we’ve been here, but the day was great.

We spent the morning in class learning about the armored HMMVWs we’ll be driving. They’re armor plated vehicles that can withstand quite a lot of firepower. We saw slides of one of these vehicles that had an IED (improvised explosive device) explode underneath it. The vehicle was beat up pretty badly, but all four occupants walked away.

We also learned about the use of NVGs ( night vision goggles). We were going to be doing some night driving through the woods that night so had to be trained up on the use and operation. That was pretty cool.

After lunch, we got to drive the armored vehicles. It was cool – literally. They’re air conditioned with is a must since you can’t, or I should say, you’re not supposed to roll down the windows. Without the AC, you’d die of heat. The pump that runs the AC though, is incredibly loud. I kept thinking that something was broken, but our OC (observer/controller) didn’t say anything so I realized all the racket was normal. The Army wants each soldier to have an hours worth of driving to be certified. I was excited, thinking that we were going to get to drive these in some cool places. That was not to be. We drove them on the local highway, around the camp and on dirt roads. It was fun at first, but got pretty boring. Since there were three of us, plus an OC in the vehicle, we each had to sit through the others driving. I had nightmarish flashbacks back to driver’s ed remembering what it was like having to drive with the other students. Aaaagggghhh!

But a little bit of pain was worth what came next.

After we all got our driving time in – there 3 armored HHMMVWs out driving – we swapped with the drivers of the regular HHMMVWs. They’d been out on the rough terrain course. That was where the real fun was.

It had been raining most of the day so it was pretty wet. As the name of the course suggests, it was truly rough terrain. There were huge mud holes, huge moguls in the road, hills to climb and trees to not hit. I was the last to drive in my vehicle so had the benefit of watching the others and getting a feel for the course. I also had the benefit of being shaken up the most. The passengers in the back seats in these vehicles really take a beating. At least I did. I was wearing my seat belt and was glad that I was. I was being thrown all over the place. I also had on my Kevlar helmet and was glad for that as my head was thrown into the ceiling a couple of times. I also was hating the fact that I was wearing my helmet. The thing weighs a few pounds and with all the bouncing up and down I was doing, I swear I was a few inches shorter when I got out.

Prior to starting the course, we received a safety briefing. The OC said that the maximum speed on the range was 15 mph. I thought, “that’s not very fast” but soon learned that for that course, it was plenty fast.

As we pulled off the road onto the dirt, we immediately went down a short hill only be met by several moguls/bumps in the road as we worked our way up. That’s where they bouncing and head-banging came into play. At least, that was the first place. The mud holes soon followed with more bumps and slide-outs and all kinds of great fun.

SGT Aaron was next and he treated us to another wild ride. At one point, the OC told him to slow down as there was a very sharp left-hand turn. He said to slow down because several drivers in the first group had failed to slow down and slid into the tree that was there at the turn. He made it around that turn without any mishaps.

It was finally my turn. I got to start all over on the course so I knew what was coming. It was a vastly different experience being in the driver’s seat. It wasn’t as jostling as in the back. I kept an eye on my speedometer and I was reaching the 20-25 mph mark. At one point, the OC said that it was OK to have fun but to be safe. I made sure to thank 1SGT Potter – the first driver, for my experience by taking those initial moguls and a fast pace. He was definitely “shaken but not stirred.”

As I came to the mud hole, I gunned it a little bit and lost control. I started sliding sideways and even though I tried to correct the sideways movement, I only succeeded in sliding into some low lying branches.

Earlier that day, SGT Aaron and I made an agreement that every time I cursed, I’d have to pay $5 into some sort of fund. Now don’t get the wrong impression, I’m doing really well controlling my language, but the s-word is one that slips out every now and then.

As I was sliding into the branches, I thought for sure I was going to hit the tree. After we stopped, I told SGT Aaron that I owed $5 to the fund.

After I completed the course, that snot-nosed brat, SGT Aaron got out and kissed the ground. Jeez, you’d have thought I was endangering his life or something.

Actually, it was more for show. I was the lead vehicle so everyone behind me saw my great driving skills. One of the guys said I actually got some air going over one of the bumps. It was the most fun day I’ve had since I’ve been here.

The unanimous comment was what a great exercise it was but more importantly, we were glad the motor pool guys didn’t see what we’d just done to their vehicles.

That night we got to drive with the NVG’s. We had seen slides showing the goggles that had two tubes – like binoculars, so when I got mine and it was a single tube – monocular, I was disappointed. They still worked really well. It just made me feel just a little off looking through one lens.

We waited until it was nearly dark before we left the classroom area. We drove to a secluded part of base and pulled off the road. We were in the woods where it was pretty dark. We drove the route first with headlights, then with them off. It was just like in the movies. Looking through the lens, everything was green. I was the 8th of 9 vehicles so could see the HHMVWs in front of me as well as the one in the rear-view mirror. As I said, by the time the third driver had his turn, I was wanting to take them off. I think if I had a binocular type set I would have been fine. I hope we don’t do much night driving over there where we need the NVGs. Otherwise, I might be tempted to buy my own set.

A couple of our guys are smokers. As they were smoking before we actually drove the course, I watched them through the goggles. It was pretty cool. When looking with the naked eye, the cigarette butt was barely visible, but through the goggles, it looked like they were holding Tinkerbell in their hands. Their whole hand was glowing and there was a circular glow around their hand as well. Some brought their laser pointers and that was also really cool to watch. Depending on where you were standing, you could actually see the laser beam leaving the pointer and traveling out to its target. We could see the beam as far as a mile or more with the goggles but not with the naked eye. Pretty cool.

Milk and Cookies

Last night when I got back to my room, I had a hankerin’ for some chocolate chip cookies. Since the PX is near my room, I decided to go over and get some Chips Ahoy cookies – since I didn’t have any fresh baked, delicious, home-made cookies to eat (hint, hint) – and some milk. The PX was crowded. Apparently another unit is here that’s been in-country (that's code for being in Iraq or Afghanistan) for a couple of months and they hadn't been able to consume any alcohol. It’s always crowded then - guys buying necessary items like junk food, alcohol, cigarettes, etc - the finer things in life. I just about turned around and went back to my room, but those chocolate chip cookies were calling to me.

(The base commander’s alcohol policy is that you can consume two alcoholic drinks a day. Beer, whisky, vodka – two per day. No more. You need to know that for my story.)

The alcohol was being grabbed fast and furious. Beer bottles were clinking in the arms of young soldiers. Bottles of hard liquor were everywhere. Packs of cigarettes are being pulled off the shelf. Cans of chewing tobacco just waiting to be opened. The guy just ahead of me had 4 porn magazines clutched in his hot little hand, in addition to everything else I just mentioned. Guys are talking about finding the biggest bottles of beer they could find – regardless of brand or taste – they just wanted the biggest one. Remember, they could have two of'em.

And there I am, a Lieutenant Colonel. A smart, dignified, sophisticated man, standing with milk and cookies amidst all these young guys with their beer, cigarettes and porn. What was I thinking? I should have grabbed a bottle of Milk of Magnesia or a container of Metamusil to complete the picture. Maybe some Depends?

I still chuckle over the image that must have presented and at the comments about "this guy at the PX" I’m sure were shared among buddies as the beer was quickly consumed.

There’s a knickname in the military, and in our unit in particular as we’ve got lots of older officers and enlisted guys, that described me perfectly at that moment. I was a “FOG.” Pardon my language, but it stands for “f’in old guy.” Or as my 14-year old son Luke likes to call me, a “POM” – pathetic old man. Regardless of whether I was a FOG or a POM, I presented a pretty sad picture that night.

The cookies were good though.

'stache

“stache

That’s short for moustache. We’ve been told that in Afghanistan, men grow a moustache and beard as a demonstration of their ability to care for a family. Men who don’t wear them don’t command as much respect as those who do. Also, men with grey hair can get away with no moustache as the color demands respect as well. I decided to give it a go.

What do you think? I don’t like it either. I took this picture just to show you what it looked like, along with my “high-speed” haircut. Can’t do anything right now about the hair - have to wait for it to grow, but I can shave off the “stache,” which I will do when I get back to my room and take a shower.

Actually, I’ll probably keep the hair short as it’s so much easier to manage. And if we don’t get to shower as often over there as may be the case, I won’t have to worry about it getting to greasy. Our group commander, who’s hair is a little shorter than mine, actually puts hand sanitizer on his scalp. He likes the tingle. I tried it. It does make your scalp tingle.

Maybe I'll just "wash" my hair with hand sanitizer over there.

LDS Group

Here's a picture of the group that showed up for our first LDS group meeting. That's me. The third from the left.

This last week.

Whoa, where to start on the recap of this last week? (After typing this out, I’ll warn you, it’s pretty long so don’t feel like you have to read the whole thing.) We’ve had a double training schedule, meaning we’ve had a full day of training as well as a full night of training as well for the last 5 days. In fact, one day, I was up for 20 hours. So where to start?

Rather than give you a day by day recap, let me hit the highlights as they come to mind. We were trained on several different weapons systems. I now know how to shoot, dismantle and put back together the MK19 40mm grenade machine gun, the M240, M249 and the Browning M2 machine gun. The grenade machine gun was the coolest, although we never got to shoot it. We spent two days on the range firing the different weapons. Those were hot, humid, miserable, yet fun days. You get quite the adrenaline rush laying in a prone position with a loaded semi automatic or automatic rifle in your hands, waiting for the targets to pop up. I didn’t get to fire the Browning but it’s an amazing weapon. It’s maximum range is 4 miles. Can you imagine that, this huge, 50mm shell traveling up to 4 miles? It’s a little mind boggling.

The 20 hour day was one of the range days. I had to get up at 4:30 a.m. in order to get dressed, eat and on the bus by 6:00 a.m. to take us to the range. We got in from the range by 4:30 p.m., had our daily staff meeting, had dinner and were back on a bus by 6:00 p.m. to go for our night training. That night was NBC training – no, not the television network, but nuclear, biological and chemical. Our first stop was the gas chamber. We were all exposed to, to use the common term, tear gas. We all donned our protective masks then filed into this small, brick room. Inside, the room was filled with the gas. It immediately began to burn any exposed skin. It was like getting an instantaneous painful sunburn. We then went through some simple exercises – jumping jacks, running in place, to make sure we had a good seal on our masks. The instructor was in his NBC protective suits, but we were just in our regular uniforms with the masks on. He then went around the room, one by one, and had us close our eyes and pull up our masks exposing our faces to the gas. He then counted to five, very slowly. Boy did my face burn. I was already sweating profusely and that seemed to add to the burn. We then did more exercises, then we had to take off our masks and exit the room. We got off pretty easy with that exercise. Mine was the last group to go through so a lot of the gas had dissipated. Also, the normal course of training is to require you to sing a song, recite the alphabet, or something similar after taking off your mask which obviously requires you to breathe in the gas, which then results in coughing, vomiting, snot dripping from noses, etc. We considered ourselves very lucky that we missed out on the snot-expulsion experience.

We then went to class. That night the classes were on NBC topics. Our first one was about the care and maintenance of our pro-masks. It was a great and timely class. Next came the protective NBC suit class. That was a good one as well. This is me and my “battle buddy” SGT Aaron Last-Name-Unknown, in our protective gear. (SGT Arron is a linguist and speaks Arabic and Pashtu. He works in the intelligence community so I’m not supposed to publish his first and last name together so I’ll just call him SGT Aaron when I refer to him. He’s a brilliant young man. I’m constantly amazed at his vast store of knowledge. He and I get along very well together – have the same interests, etc. He’s saved my sorry a** on many different occasions over the last few weeks. I certainly got lucky when he was assigned to be my enlisted counter-part.)

Then came the two classes from h*ll.

Do you speak “Mississipi?” No? Wanna learn? Here’s how you do it. First, get a really, really big bag of marshmallows. You know what, get about 100 bags. Open the bags. Open your mouth. Stuff about 513 of those white fluffy things in your mouth. Then, stuff about a dozen more in for good measure. Then speak. Viola!! You speak “Mississippi.” And you thought you’d have to buy one of those fancy, expensive language courses.

Should I tell you how I really feel about the way people talk down here?

OK, not everyone is that bad, but our next instructor was literally unintelligible. He was teaching us about personal first aid if we get exposed to a chemical/biological substance. I was all ears to learn about this. I mean, if I’m exposed, I want to know how to try and save myself.

SGT Aaron got us seats on the front row. We were set. I was all ears. I wanted to hear and learn about what I needed to do if I was ever exposed.

Our instructor started talking – and my mouth dropped to the floor in astonishment. I knew he was speaking English as I could distinguish a discernible word here and there, but everything else in between those few words was gibberish. He was joining words and phrases so fast and with so many missing consonants that I could not tell what he was saying. I turned to SGT Aaron and looked at him. He just shrugged his shoulders. I turned to my good friend, LTC Steve Esplin – he’s a Lieutenant in the Utah Highway Patrol in Cedar City – and no, I can’t help you get out of a ticket down there if you get one – to see if he knew what was being said. He had the same look I did. Well we both got the giggles and he didn’t help out the situation as he started leaning forward and whispering the translation in my ear. Finally I’d had it and I asked the instructor what he said. He repeated the phrase and I said, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” He repeated it and I said “I still can’t understand what you’re saying.” At that point, Steve leaned forward and said, “seek overhead protection.” The instructor was saying something like, and I’ll try and get if right – “see o’d pro ction” or something like that. It was pretty bad. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t follow what he was saying.

So how do we administer self first aid, well we’ve got several different injections we have to administer. Basically, you take these different tubes, hold them against your butt or thigh, press firmly and hold for 10 seconds. You then get a needle jammed through your uniform and get injected with the antidotes. We got to see lovely pictures of just where to inject ourself. The drawing of the butt was particularly interesting.

The final class of the night was pure hell. It started at 11:15 p.m. Remember, several of us had been up since 4:30’ish a.m. When he started the class, he said that he’d be going until 12:15 or 12:30 a.m. I actually said our loud and to him, “you’ve got to be kidding me?” He said, there was so much brass in the class – high ranking officers and senior enlisted that he wanted to make sure he got everything in. Well he did. He proceeded to read every word on every single slide he had. Most of the guys in my group have been through the combat life saver course and the rest of us will go through it so it was pretty redundant. But he didn’t just read the slides. He felt compelled to share with us every boring, useless, anecdote from his training. I was going crazy. I whispered to SGT Aaron at one point, “We don’t want to hear your stupid stories.” (I was pretty punchy by then and I’m afraid my bad side was starting to emerge. Because I’m trying to be a good example for him, I kept my language clean.) Apparently I didn’t say it softly enough as the guy in front of me heard it and started laughing. At midnight, he asked what time it was and said that he was just about done. I thought, “hallelujah!” but no, he kept going for another 15 minutes. Finally, the facilitator for the night’s training came in and told him he needed to wrap things up. We just about cheered. Then came the final blow, he said that he was one of the instructors for the combat life saver course, which is going to be a night course for me. I told SGT Aaron that if he was the instructor, I would start giving away my iPod, my computer, my camera, that everyone would be better off without me, etc. We were taught that these are signs that someone is contemplating suicide. He just laughed. Yah, of course he laughed. He’s already certified and doesn’t have to go through the class. Jerk!

The previous night we got to crawl through the mud. It has rained pretty hard most of the afternoon. The rainstorms here are incredible. So much water all at once. Lots of thunder and lightening as well. Anyway, when we showed up for training and realized that we’d be outside for quite a bit of the night I thought, “Great, I’m dripping wet from sweat, so now I’m just going to add mud to the combination.” That was Sunday night and the Lord must have heard my prayers as when we went outside to do a mine detection exercise, it quit raining after just a few minutes.

The crawling exercise was just a prelude to later training that will be much more grueling and intense. This one was just a glimpse of things to come. We had to high-crawl – hands and knees from the starting point to sandbags about 15 meters our. We then had to low-crawl to the next point, another 15 meters. Low crawl is face glued to the ground, reaching out with one hand and pulling yourself forward with that hand while pushing with your feet. Once we reached that sandbag, we then had to jump up and run the final distance. Remember, we’ve got our full body armor on, our Kevlar helmets and weapons on so we’re loaded down pretty good. Also, the sandbags were in the mud. Remember how I said that SGT Aaron was pretty smart, well he pointed out that the instructors were not making us lie in the mud, but could start from the side in the grass (I had actually already picked up on that one – I’m not as dumb as I look) so that’s what we did. We ended up not getting to wet on that one. However, I almost did a face plant when I got up to run. We were supposed to use our weapons to help us get up and to steady us, but I forgot. I launched myself up and was so top heavy that I stumbled for several feet before I got my balance and finished running the rest of the way. We also threw dummy hand grenades as well as did mine field extraction that night. It was actually a fun evening. But long. I didn’t get back to my room until after 11:30 p.m. (The next morning was the 4:30 a.m. morning.)

We had two days of land navigation. We learned how to read maps, navigate by compass and learned how to use the hand-held GPS system. We then went into the woods near our training site and had a treasure hunt of sorts. We had several locations that we had to get to using the GPS, find the location and write down the coordinates that were there. This is a picture of me holding the GPS making my way through the trees.

The next day we had to do mounted navigation. That’s where we got in a humvee and drove to the sites. That was fun as we had to have one person sitting in the turrent looking for IED’s (improvised explosive devices) along the way. We found a couple. Here’s a picture of the first one we found. It’s a cell-phone activated munitions shell set to explode on the side of the road. (Remember, we have certain systems that jam the triggering mechanism.) I did OK on everything except the map reading. I was the navigator on our last leg and I’m a lousy map reader. It didn’t help that the map was really small and I couldn’t read it very well – I needed my reading glasses – but I got us pretty lost. It was very embarrassing. Oh well, we finally found where we needed to go and finished on time.

The last two days we’ve been learning urban operations. We’ve learned how to patrol village streets, search and clear buildings, and react to sniper fire. Camp Shelby has built several mock villages. They hire people to come in and be villagers. Several of them are Iraqi’s, Egyptians, Iranians, etc. so that we get exposed to languages. We clear the rooms in buildings in 4-man stacks. Here’s a picture of our 4-man stack. It’s me, SGT Aaron, MSG Jimmy Stewart and LTC James Slagowski. They’re all on my team that's going to the same place in-country and are really great guys. James is a special forces guy so he’s our team leader. For that day, we got to fire blanks. It was really cool because as we’d cross a courtyard, the bad guys would pop up and we’d have to shoot them. As we were on patrol in the village, a sniper would shoot at us and we’d have to take cover and between our whole team, we’d have to approach the sniper’s location and take him out. For that exercise as well as the exercise where we were assigned to take and secure a building, I was assigned to be the squad leader.

I had three teams of 4-men each assigned to me. I was responsible for formulating our plan to provide security to the forces that went in and secured the area. I was a little nervous at first as I’d never done anything like that before, but SGT Aaron, James and others on my squad really helped me out. It was really cool leading my team through the forest to our position and making sure that we executed our mission.

I’m tired and am starting to forget details but maybe you’re glad for that.

To say that it’s been a busy week would be an understatement. To say that I’m ready for a break is an even bigger one. We get July 3rd and 4th off. I’m looking forward to that. SGT Aaron’s wife is coming to see him. Lucky dog. I’ve got a friend coming from Houston but he’s sloppy seconds at best to Janae. Oh well, I haven’t seen him in a few years so it will be fun.

Have a great evening.

Bob

Happy Anniversary - 20 Years

Yesterday, Janae and I celebrated our 20 year wedding anniversary. My was it ever romantic. We spent a great time at an exotic resort, eating gourmet food, getting pampered at the spa, having a wonderful time together. Wake up fool! That was what was supposed to happen. Oh yeah. Instead of a romantic get away for two, I'm in the middle of a romantic get-away for 137. Not that I would call this romantic.

I spent the day sweltering in the heat. I learned how to shoot a grenade machine gun. While it was not as fun as spending the day with Janae, it was still pretty cool. This thing can shoot hundreds of grenades a minute if you need it to. It's called a crew served weapon because it requires 2-3 people to handle it, put it together, carry it, etc. After spending all morning and part of the afternoon in a hot, muggy tent, I was looking forward to the afternoon off. That was not to be.

Instead, I spent it processing a soldier for what we call in the military, an Article 15. It's sort of like a trial but done in front of the commander for minor offenses. The commander hears testimony or reviews written statements from witnesses, questions the offending soldier, then decides on a punishment. It's not criminal so it doesn't go an any record or anything. It's just a way of handling minor offenses in the most effective way possible.

This soldier was the one I mentioned earlier, the one terrified about going to Afghanistan. There's actually more to it but since anyone can read this, I don't want to get too personal. Suffice it to say, he was supposed to be somewhere but disobeyed the order and was somewhere else and went there without telling anyone. This had happened so many times that the commander finally resorted to this measure. It ended up being a positive experience for all involved.

So that was my romantic day.

Then came the romantic dinner. For our anniversary dinner, Janae and the boys went to lunch in Provo. They got the buffet at Ottavios. It was the pizza buffet so Braxton was in heaven. My romantic dinner was, ooh, words cannot describe the delicacies I partook of. I'll try though.

First, imagine a stale, hard taco bowl. Then fill it with finely ground, greasy taco meat. Then came the choice of overcooked, slimy broccoli or overcooked slimy peas. Ooh tough choice. I chose neither. Then an endless supply of that lucious bagged iceburg lettuce. Mmmm. My mouth is watering at the thought. Add to that the choice of either Ranch, 1,000 Island or French dressing (there's some comfort in constants - the dressings never change) and some canned fruit. Are you jealous? Oh, I forgot to mention, the sour cream in little packets - like catchup packets, only sour cream. For dessert, I had a cup of chocolate ice cream. I had the privilege of scraping off the top sticky film on the ice cream. (I think it had melted and was then refrozen.) Yum, yum.

To add a little spice to the dinner, I asked my boss if he wanted to get a little romantic in honor of my anniversary - I was kidding of course. Next thing I knew, his combat boot was rubbing up and down my leg. I still get the tingles just thinking about it - Not!!

I did get to talk to Janae and the boys after dinner so that was nice. They're doing well. Janae is so grateful that the boys are doing well. They're doing their jobs when asked and even asking what jobs they can do. They're all working hard and being the great young men that they are.

Can I just say what a wonderful woman I married. For 20 years she's put up with my bull***t and hasn't complained too much. She has stuck by me and supported me in all the things I've accomplished. I truly married above my status in life and she has always lifted me higher than I could have reached on my own. She is an amazing woman. She knows just what needs to be done and when. She keeps our family organized. She's the best teacher ever. Not just in teaching school, but in working with the boys. I'm constantly amazed at how she is able to see their needs and meet them. She has the patience of a saint, I mean, she is a saint. I don't know too many people who would be able to do the things she does.

Now with this deployment, let me tell you about some of the other wives and show you what I mean. One wife was so angry when her husband told her he was being deployed that she didn't talk to him for a week. Janae has never been happy with this, but has always supported me. She's never once complained but has been positive. Some wives are calling their husbands constantly with problems. Janae asks me about things, but she hasn't burdened me with things that are outside of my control. She sees a problem and takes care of it. I know, we've only been gone 2 weeks, but I know she'll continue to be that way. Other wives cried and cried and became basket cases. Not Janae. I know she's cried and will continue to cry, but she makes sure that boys don't see as she doesn't want to add to their stress.

One of the women in the neighborhood really complemented her. While other women are saying things like, "I don't know how you'll handle this." or "I couldn't do it." or "How are you going to get by without him." and other things like that, one smart woman said, "If anyone can do it, it's you."' She really appreciated that complement and of course it's true. She is a remarkable woman. And I got her to marry me. What a lucky sap I am.

There's a song by Josh Groban that really says how I feel. I wish I'd figured out how to add music to this blog but don't have the time so let me just share the words. This is my public declaration of my love for my wife.

"You Raise Me Up"
Josh Groban
From the album Closer

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

Happy Anniversary Janae.

I love you!!

Bob

Mailing Address

Even though you can e-mail me at either of these addresses: rjchurch@orem.org or robert.j.church@us.army.mil I love to get snail mail.

You can mail me at:

LTC Robert Church
1st Corps Artillery Forward
Team 2
2490 25th Street
Camp Shelby, MS 39407-5500

Also, if you remember, put Team 2 on the back of the envelope or box.

Later

Sundays

I was going to write these experiences at the end of my last posting but thought that since they were two different topics, I'd post a separate entry.

As you can imagine, being a group from Utah, a large portion of our command is LDS. We met last Sunday night in one of the empty buildings near our command headquarters. We sat on milk cartons. We used a cardboard box as the sacrament table. Since our storage boxes hadn't arrived, yet, we didn't have sacrament supplies. Instead, we used styrafoam cups from the mess hall for water cups.

My buddy and I were among the first to arrive. And, in typical Mormon fashion, sat on the third row of overturned milk cartons. Perish the thought of sitting on the front row.

Our group leader asked for volunteers to help bless and pass the Sacrament. I love to bless the emblems of the Lord's supper and never get to do it in my own ward so jumped at the opportunity.

As the time drew near for the meeting to begin, more and more soldiers kept coming in. I couldn't believe how many we had. I guess I knew we had that many members but to see them all together was quite a site. One of our Captains, introduced and Air Force Captain. He was sitting on the front row as they got there just as the meeting was starting.

As we sang the opening hymn, I noticed the AF Captain had tears in his eyes. I somehow sensed that he had a story to tell.

As we began to sing the sacrament hymn and uncovered the bread, I could immediately tell that our group leader who had prepared the sacrament had not anticipated this many people. There were only two small pieces of bread on the plate. I looked at the brother who was helping me and we realized that we were going to have microscopic pieces of bread. Fortunately we didn't run out of bread.

When it came time to bless the water, the group leaders under-estimation was again apparrent. Because he hadn't yet received his packing box that had the sacrament cups/supplies, he had to improvise. Ever take the out of a styrafoam cup? Me neither. Well, there was only about 20 cups on the tray so in true soldier fashion we improvised and simply passed the cups around. It was interesting to watch as soldiers would drink out of those passed cups. I think under normal circumstances, some may have been a little squeamish to drink out of someone else's cup, but because of the circumstances, I don't think anyone minded.

After our group leader shared his message, he asked if anyone had something they wanted to share. Sure enough, the AF Captain jumped up and shared his testimony about how the Lord truly does watch out for us. He said that he'd been there for two weeks and had been unable to locate another LDS group to meet with. Because of the training schedule, he was unable to get off post to attend the LDS ward. He said he began to get depressed and frustrated at not being able to meet with fellow priesthood holders. Then, that very day, he heard that there was a group from Utah on post. He drew the same conclusion. Where there's a group from Utah, there will be an LDS meeting. His only problem, there's thousands of soldiers on this post and how was he to find a group of 140?

He took the bus into town that day. As he was riding back onto post, he was praying that he would somehow find us. As he felt more depressed, he began to hum a hymn. About that time, a voice, "as loud as I'm talking to you right now," he said, told me to ask the guy next to me where he was from. So, he turned to the guy sitting next to him and asked him where he was from. You know the answer of course. "I'm from Utah" came the reply. He said that he could not speak for a minute or so because he was so overcome by the Spirit. By this time he was openly weeping and I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes. He testified that the Lord is mindful of us. He knows our needs. He knows our heartaches. The Captain told us that he knew that the Lord knew him and led him to us. It was a very moving story.

Today, we held our second meeting. This time it was in the base chapel. Our subordinate unit has been in Iraq for the last year. The command has been trickling back slowly. For the soldiers in my command who have known and worked with these soldiers, it's been really neat to see the reunions that have taken place. I only knew their commanding officer and had a great visit with him.

Anyway, since we were now double in size, the number of members who wanted to attend church, and since the command had a chaplain, he made arrangements for us to meet in the chapel. It's a beautiful white spired building with stained glass windows and oak woodwork on the inside.

After the chaplain spoke, he invited members of the returning command to share their experiences and feelings with us. Each soldier who spoke, spoke of how prayers were answered, how miracles took place. Virtually all testified that by staying close to the Spirit, their lives were protected. It was very comforting.

One of the soldiers mentioned how it became very clear to him just how many people were praying for him while he was gone. While he was on leave, he and his wife went to the temple. She took him to the prayer roll office and showed him how his and his family's names were on the prayer roll every month. I began to reflect on just how many people are praying for me as well. I know that mine and my family's names are being put on at least one temple prayer roll every month. I began to look around my ward and could envision all those who I knew were praying for me. I then began to think of family and friends who were also praying. And my heart was full of gratitude. The soldier said something to the effect of, "how could the Lord not lisen to and answer the prayers of all those people?" The Spirit bore witness to me that He does hear and answer those prayers.

One our soldiers is really struggling right now. He's terrified of being deployed. He's terrified that his family will not be safe. He's terrrified about a number of things to the point that he's becoming a danger to himself because he's so distracted. Our commander is considering sending him home. I was talking with one the JAGs that works for me today about him. We both commented on how great it was to have the gospel in our lives and to have that relationship with the Lord such that we can have experiences with the Spirit that confirm that we WILL be blessed, we WILL be protected and that things at home WILL be taken care of. What a great thing the gospel is.

Anyway, that's a recap of the two Sundays that we've been here.

I didn't even go into what a unique and special experience it is to meet with other Melchizedek priesthood holders and share the Sacrament. It's really incredible. But maybe I'll save those thoughts and feelings for another time.

May the Lord bless you all. And thank you for your prayers.

Bob

I thought I had our LDS group picture on my thumb drive but don't. I'll post it another time.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to all the Dad's out there. I just got off the phone with my Dad. Aren't Dad's great?!

I talked with Janae and the boys last night. We actually celebrated Father's Day Memorial Day Weekend. As usual though, Janae is always prepared. In my stuff, she put in several cards with the dates they can be opened. Of course, I had one for Father's Day in it. I've got one to open on the 21st. It's our 20th Wedding Anniversary. I can't believe how fast the time has gone. I'm sure I'll have more to say/write when the day comes.

I failed to mention, the previous post is the second article I wrote for the military paper back home. I'm still not sure where it's going to be published but it's fun to think that I may be a published author.

Tomorrow is weapon's qual on our M4. It's a smaller version of the M16 machine gun. Of course, we have to wear our IBA's so I anticipate melting under its weight and with all the heat and humidity. I just realized, I haven't posted my third article yet so you haven't had the "treat" of reading about our weapons qual on the 9mm.

So, without further ado, here's my third article telling you about that experience...

“Weapons Qual”
LTC Robert Church
HHB, 1st Corps Artillery
JA, UTARNG

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Close your eyes. OK, don’t really close them, but recall in your mind’s eye the first time you saw the Wizard of Oz. Remember when the Wicked Witch of the West ran into the wall of water, OK, it was really thrown at her, but work with me here. Remember when she was hit with the wall of water and she began melting? She turned all liquidy and gooey. She slowly melted to the floor and became this steaming pile of goo. Remember?

Ever think it would ever happen to you?

Well, it happened to us.

Have I piqued your interest?

We were issued our Individual Body Armor (IBA) this week. It’s a wrap around type vest with Kevlar inside. It will stop small caliber bullets but in order to stop the larger caliber weapons, you have to insert heavy plates in the front and back. Ever suddenly strap on 45+ pounds and have to carry it around? In order to relieve the weight off your shoulders, you have to tighten up the side straps. I have to imagine it is much like wearing a corset. There’s also a neckpiece that goes with it. Oh, and a cod piece. It’s a triangular piece that hangs down in front to protect…I think you get the picture.

I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this protection. I can’t tell you how hot you get by wearing it. The IBA is so tight, and with the neckpiece on, it literally traps all your body heat and seems to intensify it a hundred-fold. We’re required to wear it whenever we train in the field.

We were also issued our weapons this week. We got our 9 mm first. We went to the field to qualify. We wore our IBA. First we went to the simulator to practice. It was great. I shot 39/40. I was confident and excited to go and shoot the real thing.

Well as the sun continued to rise, so did the humidity level. Wearing that IBA in the heat and humidity was like walking into a wall of water. I could hear echoes of “I’m melting, I’m melting” in the back of my mind. (Did you read that in a high, squeaky, wicked witch voice? If not, go back and read it again to get the full effect.)

As the entire command needed to qualify, we spent the entire day at the range. We tried to find what little shade was available. Most succeeded.

The range controllers were great to work with. They got us through quickly and efficiently. I wish I could say we all qualified on the first go-round. But such was not the case. Remember that 39/40 I shot in the simulator? Well let’s just say that I failed to reach that level of success on the range. So as not to embarrass myself, let me just say that I did pass. Eventually. We all passed.

As part of our qualification process, we had to put on our protective masks and shoot with those on. That was interesting. Trying not to feel claustrophobic, while having to focus through the eye pieces of the mask and then shoot at the targets was quite the experience. It took quite a bit of concentration. Another of those firsts.

As the sun went down, we prepared for our night-fire qualifications. That’s where you have to shoot in the dark. You don’t have to hit as many targets but you still have to qualify. This time around, I achieved success the first time around. But then, I was in the first group and even though it was “technically” night, it wasn’t as dark as it was when the last group shot. My admiration and respect to those who truly shot in the dark.

Well we all qualified. Now we have the qualifications on the M4 to look forward to. We were issued those this week as well. We spent the morning becoming acquainted with the weapon. After some excellent instruction, we went and had a laser attached to the end of the weapon and began “zeroing” in our weapons. Zeroing-in is the process where we can adjust the weapon so that we hit the target in relatively the same location every time, provided we shoot the same way every time.

After we “zeroed-in” we got to practice the course of fire that we would be shooting on the range. We have to shoot in the prone position – lying down. Remember, we’re wearing our IBA while we do this. We shoot 40 rounds of fire at pop-up targets. We then hear the words, “gas, gas, gas.” That’s the signal to put on your mask and then shoot another round. Shooting with the mask on at the 9mm range was different. There, we were standing, looking straight down range. Now, lying prone, you couldn’t do that. You have to turn your body at an angle, and then jam your eye-piece right up to the site, in order to get a good view. It was pretty cool. Monday is the day we qualify on the M4. I wonder if we’ll hear a chorus of (get your wicked witch voices ready) “I’m melting, I’m melting” in the background.

I’m sure we will.



OK, I'm sure you gathered from my article that I didn't pass the first time. I was shamed beyond belief. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it was the first time, ever, that I haven't qualified the first time. I shot 14/30. Pretty lame. Well the second time around, I was so hot, and the sweat was dripping in my eyes, I was at the farthest lane and couldn't hear the range instructor very well, that on one of the lanes, I grabbed the wrong magazine - I grabbed a 5 round magazine instead of the 7 round magazine. As you can guess, I ran out of bullets and missed a couple of targets. Well on that round, let's just say that I didn't even make the double digit mark. The shame of it all was quite distressing. So I practiced and practiced so that when I went back the third time, I was ready. I shot 25/30. About dang time.

Oh, and on the night shoot, I got a perfect score.

I hope I don't repeat my performance tomorrow on the M4. Wish me luck.

First Days

Ever been to Mississippi in the summer? Do the words “hot” and “humid” mean anything to you? They are beginning to sink in for us. Actually, it hasn’t been that hot yet, only the low 90’s and the humidity has only be in the 60% range so I shouldn’t be complaining. Maybe next week.

Camp Shelby is quite beautiful. It’s green…something we don’t see a lot of at Camp Williams. As you travel throughout the camp, you can still see signs of Katrina’s wrath. Pieces of roofs are still missing or have been covered with tarps. Trees that were knocked over still have not been cleaned up. One can only imagine the fury with which Mother Nature descended upon this location.

Well we got here without any problems and jumped right into a “busy” schedule. PT was first thing Saturday morning. Because some of us did not strictly follow the packing list, our PT shoes were still in transit. Consequently, a trip the to PX to purchase PT shoes was required. For some, (like the JAG – not to mention any names), shoes were not available so PT was accomplished in PT uniform and combat boots. Hooah!!

Sunday was filled with our required briefings. The memories of that day still fill me with, uh, excitement. It was held in the base theater. The lighting system had been damaged during the hurricane and you could still see where part of the roof had been torn off. Since they were going to renovate the building anyway, not a lot of money was spent fixing the problems. Consequently, the briefings were conducted in near total darkness. Perfect conditions for conducting inspections on the back of one’s eyelids without being noticed.

The SRP (Soldier Readiness Processing) followed upon the heels of the briefings. Monday morning we arose before the sun, literally, got on busses and went to get the blood drained from us, our bodies injected with anthrax, our files checked and our patience tested. Actually, the whole process went fairly smoothly and what was expected to take a couple of days was able to be completed in one day. Our thanks to the staff at Camp Shelby for being so efficient and our thanks to the folks from Utah who traveled here to assist in the process.

Our protective masks have now been fitted and deemed safe and ready to be used. We’ve been issued our IBA (individual body armor) as well as our pistols. We are becoming a combat force.

We are becoming versed in “Dari” as well as the customs of the Afghan people. As anyone who has traveled to another country knows, the best way to win the hearts of the people is to try and speak their language and adapt to their culture. So, “salaam” and “subh ba Khayr.” “ma daree yaad nadaarum.” You’ll have to ask your soldier for a translation. For some of us, this is the first foreign language ever learned. (That is if you don’t count “southern” as a foreign language.) Hopefully by the time we get in-country, we’ll be able to converse with the people enough to at least ask where the bathroom is.

Another first – battered, deep-fried pork chops. Ah, the finer things in life.

As the training schedule continues to evolve so will the experiences. But for now, “shumaa baamaane Khudaa” from Camp Shelby.

One of many firsts...

“subh ba Khayr” from Camp Shelby. We’re learning to speak Dari. Maybe I should say, we’re trying to learn to speak Dari. We have several linguists in our group so one of the officers is attempting to instill in us the ability to speak. So far, it’s a hopeless cause. Of course, that’s what I said about Spanish when I was in the MTC but I eventually grasped that language. Then, we were told about the military’s language training institute where they rate the ability and difficulty in languages. Spanish ranks as a zero and Dari is a four, with four being the highest. So much for my confidence level.

I’m sure I’ll experience many “firsts” over the coming year, but I had one the other night at dinner. I showed up at the chow hall and looked to see what was being served. I thought it was fried chicken. Turns out, it was battered, deep-fried porkchops. I was a little leary but thought, “when it the south…” It was actually pretty tasty. Of course, I could feel my arteries hardening while I ate it. I took pity on my cholesterol level and only ate half.

The days have been pretty slow. We have yet to have a full day of training. Well that’s not quite true. On Sunday last, we had a full day of required briefings. Does mind numbing/*ss numbing mean anything to anyone. We started at 0700 and went until 1630 in the afternoon. The last few briefers actually read their slides without adding any additional information. About the only thing that made it interesting was interpreting the language they were reading in – “southern.” It’s a form of English where the consonants are dropped and the vowels are run together. Also, it’s not uncommon for consonants to be switched, sort of like a dyslexic person actually speaking in dyslexia. “I ak-sed you a que-ion.” The South may still yet rise…heaven help us if it does!!!

One of my JAGs who works for me was tasked with the collateral duty of being the Public Affairs Officer (PAO) for our command. He’s responsible for writing articles for a publication back home. I told him I’d write one or two for him. I’ll attach the first one today and the second one later. Hope you enjoy them.

Ya’ll have a great day.

My first article.

It was the Worst of Days, It was the Best of Days
LTC Robert Church
JA, UTARNG

To “steal” and then change, a thought from an author much more famous and literate than I, “it was the worst of days, it was the best of days.” Friday, June 9, 2006 was the day HHB 1st Corps Artillery was called upon to bid farewell to our families and friends as we boarded the plane that would take us to Camp Shelby, MS to begin our training in preparation for our deployment to Afghanistan. We knew this day would come. We didn’t want it to come. We couldn’t wait for it to come. But in the end, it finally came.

It was the worst of days.

That morning, the skies were dark, thunder could be heard and it was raining. We had to say goodbye to our wives, our girlfriends, our kids, our grandkids, our parents, our friends and loved ones. As we gathered in the hanger at the Air Guard base, we had an opportunity to express our love to those who were there supporting us. Everywhere you looked, you could see fathers holding onto their small children, husbands, reaching out to touch their wives, children, clinging to their fathers. There were tears as well. And yet, there was an overriding spirit of pride. A huge American flag was hanging from the ceiling and family after family took their turn standing in front and taking pictures of, and with, their soldier. A friend of mine came to bid farewell and he commented on how poised everyone seemed to be despite the raw emotion that permeated the building. Our families did us proud.

Several made signs professing their love and pride. “I (heart) my soldier,” “I love my daddy” and others could be seen. Children waiving American flags, little girls dressed in red, white and blue. It was a sea of patriotism.

As the plane that was to take us to Mississippi arrived, a sense of, what?, foreboding, desperation to get in that last hug, that last kiss, seemed to fall over us. We knew that once we stepped on that plane, we would begin the long journey to Afghanistan.

We were told that we had ten minutes to say our last goodbyes. The tears that were close to the surface only got closer. Unless you’ve been there, words cannot express the feelings that are racing through your heart and your mind, knowing that these are the last moments you’ll spend with loved ones for a very long time.

Finally, the time came and we were called to final formation. As we stood there in our ranks, our families had an opportunity to take our pictures. I know we made an impressive sight. As were made a “left face” in order to march out of the hanger, the crowd parted to allow us to pass through. As the first soldiers began to march out of the hanger towards the plane, someone began clapping. Then another and another until the whole hanger was ringing with the sounds of clapping and cheering. The pride that swelled within us was palpable…as were the tears. As we marched towards the plane, I know I wasn’t alone in looking to see where my family was, to get one last glimpse. And I know I wasn’t the only one that was getting a little concerned when I could not locate them in the sea of faces.

As we made our way towards the plane, I heard a shout, “Hey Dad.” I looked back, and there was my middle, and tallest son, waiving over the crowd. Suddenly, they were the only ones that I could see. My wife and three boys were there waiving to me, sending me off with their love. I had to look away because the tears were ready to come.

At the foot of the stairs to the plane were the governor and his wife, General Tarbet, General Wilson, the Command Sergeant Major and several others. Each expressed their pride and gratitude in the mission we were about to embark upon.

Then came the stairs.

Each of us climbed the stairs and upon reaching the landing, turned to look back at the crowd. We found our own families and shared one last moment together. It was another moment that words cannot adequately express. And then we went through the door of the plane and were gone.

It was the worst of days.

But, it was also the best of days.

We have trained for years. We have worked together for years. And now, we finally have the opportunity to share that training with a people working towards democracy. We will be able to make an impact in the lives of the Afghani people that will last far longer than the mere twelve months we will be there.

We saw the best in our families. Of course they were sad, but they were proud. We have seen our wives, our children and our families step up to the plate and assume responsibilities that they didn’t previously have. No one disputes that it will be challenging for them, but they have been willing to accept those responsibilities so that we can complete our mission.

I was told that someone made the comment that if we left our families to serve, we must not love them. On the contrary, one of the reasons we go is because of our families. Our families are safe and secure because of us, and others like us. They are free to travel without the fear of IED’s and snipers and roadside bombs. Through our service, we teach our children that commitment, loyalty and honor are not just words, but values worth fighting for. We love them by serving them and the millions of other Americans who enjoy the peace and safety we live in.

As we found our seats and waited for the plane to take-off, the feelings of sadness began to be replaced with feelings of excitement. As we prepared for take-off, laughter could be heard throughout the cabin. Of course we were sad, but we were excited and ready to serve.

It was the best of days because we were finally on our way. In a few more hours, we would be able to say that our first day was done. Then it will be the first week, the first month, the first year and for most of us, the first deployment. While it may seem like an eternity, time will pass quickly. We will have experiences that will stay with us for the rest of our lives. We will come back changed men, but it will be for the better.

Pictures

OK, I've figured out how to add photos. The boys have no respect for their father - tickling me shamelssly. There we are boarding the plane. There's Luke raising his arms. A view from the plane window. The barracks. And finally, my room.

The First Day

I wrote yesterday morning about the fact that the day to leave had finally come. Well it came and has gone. What a day it was. We woke up to dark clouds, rain and thunder. Poor Thor, our dog, was not very happy. He hates such storms. I let him into the garage but had left the door to the house ajar, so of course he went right in and tracked muddy paw prints all across the kitchen floor. As we drove to Salt Lake, to the Air National Guard airport, it was raining. It seemed somehow fitting.

As we arrived at the base, it was still raining. We were ushered into a hanger where a huge American flag was hanging. We were able to take our picture in front of it, the only problem was, it was so far off the ground that it wasn’t really in the background. Oh well. It looked nice. There were lots of folding chairs set up, but not enough for everyone. We were told to be there by 9:00 a.m. We made such good time that we got here 20 or so minutes early. As we watched people come in, some were very brave. Others were weeping openly. It was hard to watch some of the families, especially those with young kids and babies. I watched as dad’s held close their infant daughters. I watched as young sons clung to their father’s legs. It was really heart-breaking. I was grateful that my own boys were old enough to understand what was happening and that they weren’t overly emotional. I don’t think I could have handled that wave of emotions.

After a while, the hanger doors were opened and we could see a couple of Air Force planes sitting on the tarmac. At first I thought that we were going to flying to Mississippi on a cargo plane. However, after a while, a passenger plane pulled onto the runway and parked itself in front of the hanger. I breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing that we’d be flying in some measure of comfort. However, at the same time, the arrival of the plane brought with it a sense of separation. I realized that this was the plane that was going to be taking me away from my family. That was hard. I think it was hard for a lot of others as well as I started to see more teary eyes.

Fortunately, instead of emotionally losing it, my boys started to get silly. They ganged up on their poor father and started tickling me. Can you believe it? Here I am, a distinguished Lieutenant Colonel, getting ready to leave for Afghanistan, and my boys are ganging up on me and showing no respect. It was fun.

Finally the time arrived. We were told that we had 10 minutes to say our goodbyes. That was hard. How can you put into the words you feel when you hug your children and your wife for the last time before leaving for the unkown. That was hard. I think I caught a glimpse of what the early missionaries for the church must have felt.

We got into formation. That was hard, looking at the sea of faces looking back at us with tears in most everyone’s eyes. We got the command for “left face” and the first column of soldiers began marching out. The sea of people parted and we began marching through the column that had been created. Suddenly, someone began clapping. Then someone began cheering. Eventually, the whole group of people were clapping and cheering. I lost it then. Tears welled up in my eyes. They were tears of sadness as well as pride. It’s hard to explain. Of course I was sad to be leaving my family, but I felt a sense of pride at being able to go and serve my country as well as serve the people of Afghanistan.

As I was in the last group to leave, I had time to watch those around me. Some had flags that were being waved. One lady had a sign that said, “We (heart) our soldiers.” That was a hard one to see. For some reason it really brought the tears to my eyes. There were other signs expressing love and pride for their soldiers. It was really moving to see.

I kept searching the crowd for signs of Janae and the boys but I couldn’t see them. I knew they hadn’t left, but was getting concerned that I wouldn’t be able to see them. It wasn’t until I had left the hangar and was half-way to the stairs leading up to the plane that I heard Luke’s voice shout out “Dad.” I turned and saw him waving to me over the heads of the people in the crowd. He had the camera up and was trying to take my picture. I really lost it then. I didn’t break down and sob, but my throat was choking and eyes were watering. I could finally see my family looking back and me waving. Even now, I’m still really emotional about that moment. That was pretty hard.

There was a greeting line of dignitaries shaking our hands before we went up the stairs to the plane. The governor and his wife were there. The TAG (The Adjutant General – general of the Utah Guard) was there. General Wilson, my boss was there – he is not coming with us. He’s an emotional man and he was very emotional at that time. He shook my hand and then gave me a hug and thanked me for my service. Again, that brought tears to my eyes.

It was then my turn to walk to the stairs, onto the plane. That was another really hard experience. As I got to the top, I turned and looked back at all the people and waved. I could see my family waving back. The tears came and I had to go inside the plane before I really lost it. As I found my seat, I chose one on the side of the plane so I could see my family one last time. I called Janae on her cell phone and got to say goodbye one last time. As we finally left, I had to put on some music to try and take my mind off things.

After we had gained altitude and people could begin to move around the cabin, a spirit of joviality began to creep in. You could hear jokes being told and people laughing. I think all the sad emotions and stress we had been feeling had finally been vented and we were able to move on. I must admit, I began to feel a little better. Of course, it still wasn’t easy leaving but it seemed less traumatic.

We flew into Gulfport Mississippi and took a bus ride north about 70 miles. Camp Shelby is in the lower center of the state. We’re near Hattiesburg, for those interested enough to look on a map.

After we got here, we were taken to our barracks. We had been told that we were going to be living in tents, in order to prepare us for Afghanistan so when I saw the open-bay barracks, barracks that were air-conditioned, I suddenly felt better about our living accommodations. Then, my team leader took the other LTC and myself aside and told us that we were going to be staying in the DVQ (distinguished visitor’s quarters) and not to take our stuff into the barracks. We were then driven a quarter of a mile or so away and dropped off. As I collected my key and began walking towards my room, my spirits lifted. As I unlocked the door and turned on the light, it was like walking into a motel room. There was a double bed, fridge, microwave, TV, two desks and best of all, a private bathroom. It’s almost obscene the great living conditions the senior officers and senior enlisted get. (LTC and above as well as E-9 and above are living here.) The only drawback is that this doesn’t feel like we’re deployed. It only feels like an extended annual training. I’m sure that will change, eventually.

And now, finally a story about the “red-headed step child of the command” – me. We had to load our gear on a semi-trailer on Wednesday. We were told to bring one of our duffle bags with us and the list had certain things to put in the bag. Well I got the “great” idea to go ahead and put both bags on the trailer so I wouldn’t have to carry it on the plane with me. Boy I thought I was smart. For some reason, I had the delusion that the truck would get there in two days. Where was I ?

Well, after the truck had left, I came to the realization of my ways. My “great” idea finally came back to bite me in the butt when we were told last night that we would be having a mandatory PT (physical training) session this morning. Of course, my PT gear was in my duffle bag that was on the truck. I was able to get to the PX (post exchange – convenience store) and buy a pair of shorts and t-shirt, but no shoes. Well I was not to be allowed to get out of PT so I was told to appear in my shorts, t-shirt and combat boots. Needless to say, I got plenty of ribbing for that one and probably will for the next little while.

Anyway, this has been a long entry and I’m sorry for the length. I’m sure I could have written more but didn’t want to bore you too much with a lot of details so I’ll stop here.

The internet café is across the parking lot from our quarters so that’s a nice benefit. I’ll try and keep this updated as we go through training. We have all-day briefings tomorrow – Sunday, June 11, 2006. They start at 7:30 a.m. and go until 5:00 p.m. Not a fun day. Monday is our document/medical review day. After that we get into weapons training and who knows what after that. I told you that I was going to stop so I finally will.

Hopefully from my “epistle” you’ll be able to understand all the pictures.

Thanks for reading and have a great day.

Bob

Today's the day!

The day to leave for Shelby has finally arrived. I can't believe it. I only hope the deployment goes this fast. As you can imagine, the last few days have been a flurry of activity. We had to have our stuff packed and on the truck two days ago, but of course, that didn't mean that I had everything ready to go. Even after I got my stuff "packed" I kept finding things that I needed to take. It's a good thing I've got a ruck-sack and my back-pack as I've been able to cram everything into that.

The three days we've spent at Camp Williams have been busy, but not so busy that we weren't able to leave a decent time each day. We spent the time becoming familiar with our weapons - the M-4 and the M-9. We also had to make sure our gas masks fit. Here's a picture of me going through the testing to make sure mine fit and was air tight. And yes, there as claustrophbic as they appear. I would hate to have to wear one in the heat for any extended period of time.

Yesterday, Janae came out with me and we sat through several hours of briefings. We got everything from legal issues to health insurance. The common consensus was, "why are we getting the health insurance briefing the day before we leave?" Leave it to the military.

As this day has approached, it's been with a degree of excitement and trepidation. Now, this morning at 6:10 a.m., I just want it to start so that we can get it over with. I'm going to call home tonight and say excitedly that "we've made it through the first day." Can't wait until I can say we've made it through the first month, the first year and the first (and hopefully the last) deployment.

I should have done this last night, but had so many things to do so I'm sorry that this is not very long, but then, maybe that's a good thing. I'll try to remember the funny things that happen, the poignant things and be sure and share them.

Love to all.

Bob

When we found out for sure we were being activated, we decided to take a last minute trip to SOCAL. We spend a couple of days in San Diego staying with our friends, the Volpers. We then spendt a couple of days with Janae's aunt and uncle in Fullerton and went to Disneyland.

Here's a picture from Sea World. This is more of an attempt to figure out this blog stuff. Now I know how to upload pictures so will make sure an upload some of the better ones.

I get federally activated one week from today. That means we'll start reporting to Camp Williams to train with our weapons, my new mistress. Her name is Whiskey237. I may have to think of something more romantic, but for now, that's my M-4's name.

We leave for Mississippi on June 9 and will be there for 8 weeks or so. Right in time for hurricane season. I'm looking forward to sweating off 20 lbs or so. Not looking forward to living in tents but they say it's to get us ready for Afghanistan.

I'll try and keep these posts informative and useful, but realize it's more for me and my family so pick through what you want and ignore the rest.

Have a great day.