A Hard Day's Night

I've not been posting much lately as my Clark Kent job had me working 1900-0700 for the last three days. I don't sleep much usually, so I was alright the first couple nights. But then I turned out needing sleep, and it was bad. Something about 12-16 hour days. Now the people at the top get the craziest hours, 16 hours or more, stress and such. However, I'm back on day shift, 0700-1900, so that's good.

The Gov's visit part 2

I get done with the training about 0900. Something about first aid, I think.

I go to the barracks and wait for instructions.

Waiting for instructions constitutes a good part of my day.

Around 1100 I leave the barracks and get to do something.

I'm Sgt. Pond's second cameraman, following the VIPs as they tour our barracks.

A bunch of high ranks walk the VIPs around our WW2 era barracks in an attempt to convince a bunch of businessmen, some local pols, and a couple Freedom riders that we live in the lap of utmost luxury.

"This barracks is like all the other ones," they say as they stand upon the shiniest floor I've ever seen. "Actually, we only brought you to this one because it's on the way to the chow hall."

Right.

The Governor's Visit

We were at a meeting.
The Governor and a bunch of DVs (Distinguished Visitors) are coming.
This is pretty important, so Lt. Marchik took out his marker and walked us through a block drill.

A block drill is a visual walk-through of where and when everyone is going to be, just like Patton and all those other movies where generals move divisions around a map of Europe with their riding crops.

Sgt. Roos is to go to the airport, take photos of the Governor, take photos at the Fest Tent, take pictures of the Governor's tour through the BCTC, acquire a book signing with Vince Flynn, take pictures of the Governor and Vince Flynn, take photos of lunch, go to the chapel, take picture of the town hall meeting, and then go the airport and take pictures of the Gov leaving.

Sgt. Houtkooper is to go to the airport, take video of the Governor, edit on the way to the Chapel where he will set up the cameras for the town hall meeting which he will upload to DVIDs and then send to NPR.

Sgt. Pond is to take pictures of the Fest Tent, and then go back the barracks, where he will take pictures of DVs touring our barracks. Then Pond is to take pictures of DVs having lunch in the barracks before going to the Chapel for the town hall meeting. Afterwards he will take pictures of the Gov and Soliders hobnobbing.

Sgt. Jungels will go to the golf course, where a long drive competition has been set up for Soldiers to impress some DVs, of which he will take both photos and video. After lunch, he is to go to the town hall meeting.

Lt. Marchik will pick up the AP reporter, and otherwise drive people around until the town hall meeting.

Spc. Angelo will take video of the Gov in the airport, then follow the DVs as they see our barracks before going to the town hall meeting. Editing en route to everywhere, the finished product will be transmitted by 1430.

Sgt. Kemp will drive people around and also there's a television station doing a documentary roving around so he will also take care of that.

As of the meeting I was not assigned to anything. I had training.

Around the Office: Pfc. Cassinos

When I started out these profiles, my intent was to highlight how the Army is not composed of ignorant hillbilly grunts and blowhard red-tape lovin' officers and whatever other stereotypes you have out there.

For example, Pfc. Stephanie Cassinos.

Soon-to-be Specialist Cassinos was an art school brat with a punk band called the Sold-outs. Now she's 23 with two song credits and the National Anthem at a Timberwolves game under her belt. (Coincidently, former Memphis Grizzly and current Minnesota Timberwolf Mike Miller has the same haircut as Pfc. Cassinos. Perhaps Cassinos, a Sharpshooter, could give Miller a few tips on his shot.)

She's currently on leave, taking care of her mother, as chronicled in her blog, which is creative in ways this link is not.

A Canadian (Quick edit: Not actually Canadian) and a big-sister figure, she fits our unit's Five Man Band.

Shooting (with a weapon)

They say that working for the Army is like working for the post office, but with weapons.

Which is the truth, to an extent.

But another, truthier truth is that since Basic Training at Fort Benning, I have not really had much to do with weapons.

Which is scary, in more ways than one.

I can handle the weapon. I could field strip my M-16 in 45 seconds at Basic.

But when I get up there on the range and the man in the tower loudspeaker says "Targets up...watch...your lane" I go to a bad place.

I barely qualified at Basic. Everything was going great and I had the highest PT score and the drill sergeants were propping me up in front of the company and I got to fire the live claymore but then there came weapons qualification.

You need to qualify to graduate.

Everyone else hit their targets and I didn't.

Maybe it's because I'm a right-handed but shoot lefty because I'm left-eye dominant.

Maybe it's because when shooting lefty you get hit hit in the lip with the forward assist and you start bleeding and you get a the gigantic cut on your lip and the drill sergeants make jokes about herpes.

But what occured was for the first time at Basic I felt that there was a genuine possibility I would not make it.

That's why it shocked me when I got chosen for the SAW machine gun.

"But Sergeant Kemp, I barely qualified on the M-16. And shooting a SAW is harder. It's a machine gun."

"I know, but I sure ain't sending an NCO out there."

So I went.

The first day Spec. Angelo and I sat through class.

I mostly took pictures.

The next day we loaded onto a bus for Range 93.

I took out my camera and the range guys said, "Hey Lawrence, can you shoot pictures better than you shoot weapons?"

My reputation preceded me.

And it was well-founded. I got up there on the line and I couldn't see. I could not see the targets. It got worse with the gas mask. I strained and blinked and turned this way and that, but I could not see. The mask and the fear closed in on me. My breathing was quick. Too quick. They told me I was done and I sprung up and grabbed my mask and wrested it off as quick as I could just to get that thing off of me. But I kept breathing as if that mask was still on and my freaking failure began rising in my throat and I took a wobbly half-step lean before they got me. "Drink some water," they said and I was told to lay down. That was it for shooting that day for me.

In the Army there's a notion that you cannot speak of your weaknesses. You grin and bear it. Don't whine but fix it yourself. hooah. Hooah. HOOAH! Perhaps someday an admission of weakness won't be seen as an admission of guilt. And whether or not that new Army thing they got going works or doesn't work, I'll work on shooting because it could someday save my battle buddies. I just have to slay a few demons along the way.

I got my story that day. Took some pictures, etc. The range guys felt sorry for me I guess, so they let me on the guard tower so I could have a better vantage point. The head range guy, a Captain who just got back from Iraq, gave us a briefing on life down range. "The units there will try to give you their weapons to get it off their books. There'll be M-9's everywhere. There's no way you guys are going to shoot these SAWs down there."

Huh. I found out weeks later that the Army records say I qualified anyway.