"It's an Apple, Drill Sergeant?"

One Friday evening during Basic Training at lovely Fort Dix, New Jersey, a buddy and I were walking from the chow hall over to the Shopette, a kind of 7-11 on military bases. As we were walking, I was eating an apple to finish the fine Army meal we had just had, which I thought was innocent enough.

Boy, was I wrong.

As we were walking, we walked in front of one of our sister companies. The company was conducting Physical Training (PT). All of a sudden I hear a very loud, "HEY YOU!!!"

We continue walking, feeling sorry for the poor soldier about to get his ass chewed. We then hear the Drill Sergeant scream, "YOU! WITH THE FOOD!!! STOP!" Apparently, my actions caught the eye of one of the Drill Sergeants of the company.

We both stop. The drill sergeant calls us over, and we run over to him and come to the position of Attention. He looks at us and says to me, pointing at my apple. "What is that?"

Perplexed and scared to death, I look at my apple, then him, then the apple. Then him. I say, "Ummm, it's an apple, Drill Sergeant."

"And are you allowed to eat food outside the Chow Hall, Private?"

Now here we come to an interesting dilemma. This particular subject had not been brought up with our company, that I knew of. However, I am not stupid, so I was not going to challenge this mean looking sonofabitch by being a smart ass. "No, Drill Sergeant? I chimed."

"So what are you doing eating an apple, outside of the chow hall, WHEN YOU KNOW YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO??!"

I definitely knew how to answer this question. "No Excuse, Drill Sergeant!"

"I want you to throw that apple away, now, Private," Drill Sergeant LoudVoice screamed.

I look around desperately for any type of garbage receptacle, and see a couple of dumpsters, over 400 yards away... and they were the closest ones.

I take off and begin running as fast as I can, almost tripping over myself, to get rid of this offensive piece of fruit. I throw it in the dumpster and haul my butt back to the Drill Sergeant.

"What is your name, Private?"

"Private Clark, Drill Sergeant!"

"What company are you in, Private Clark?"

"Bravo, 3-5, Drill Sergeant!"

"And who is your Drill Sergeant?"

"Drill Sergeant Simpson, Drill Sergeant!"

"Okay, Private Clark, I am going to talk to Drill Sergeant Simpson about this, you can be sure. Dismissed."

We performed our about face, then walked away from the Drill Sergeant, and at that point, I Knew. This. Was. It. The opportunity he had been waiting for. Drill Sergeant Simpson now had his One Soldier That He Was Going To Kill. I knew I was a Dead Man Walking.

Slowly we went to the Shopette, grabbed what we needed, and went back to the Company Area.
And I forgot all about it all weekend.

When we awoke at 0330 Monday Morning, we went out to our morning formation, and performed our morning Smoke (dropped for push ups for the hell of it) Session, and then lined up outside the chow hall for Breakfast.

When out of the darkness I hear the Voice of Doom: "Where's that Private Clark?"

Oh. My. God. "Here, Drill Sergeant!" I get out of line and run over to him away from the line of soldiers.

As I have mentioned before, Drill Sergeant Simpson was not the tallest guy to ever walk the planet. But what he lacked in height he more than made up for in size. He was only about 5'5", but I swear he weight about 220. When he wore his BDU sleeves up, I still to this day do not know how he got his arms into his sleeves. It dod not matter what time of day it was; he was always wearing his tortoise-shell Wayfarer sunglasses. And he was as dark as Midnight. So when I came up to him that dark morning,I could barely see him. I stood in front of him at Attention and said, "Drill Sergeant, Private Clark reporting to the Drill Sergeant as Directed."

He just stood there, staring at me through his sunglasses for what seemed 2 minutes. Finally, he says to me in his low voice, like he is talking to the Accused, about to be Executed, "Do you have anything to tell me, Clark?"

I had still completely forgotten about The Apple Incident. I stared at him dumbly."No, Drill Sergeant."

"Something about an apple?"

Oh. Shit. I was completely dumbstruck, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I felt faint, and I wanted to throw up. I started to say something, but he just said to me, "Don't ever do it again, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" I said, and he told me to get the hell out of his face. I went back in line, relieved and satisfied that I might just make it alive out of here after all. And thankful that he did not hurt me.

But it was not even half over...

Want to see something Kick Ass??

Finally, Dark Side of the Moon superimposed with the Wizard of Oz

Go check out the video at .45 Caliber Justice... I have wanted to see this since forever....

You will NOT regret it...

It's About Time!!!

for Army World. I hope the Army goes through with this.

I just wish that they had come to me for ideas...

Taking a turn burning shit from a latrine would draw lines for miles...

Or getting dropped for pushups for eating an apple outside the chow hall (that is a forthcoming story)...

My day in Roswell

As I was assigned to a unit in Texas, I had an opportunity to do a lot of flying in the Southwestern United States. As I had more experience than most of the other enlisted guys (I flew over 600 hours in Germany; stateside units had limited flight hours due to budget reatraints), I was made a trainer for the equipment we used. With that, I got to fly quite a bit for training the other guys

One of the days we were flying in southwest New Mexico, and things were going well. I was just showing one of the newbies the equipment, and we were about 45 minutes into the flight, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a flashing light. As I had plenty of hours in helicopters, I knew that any kind of flashing light was what we in Army Aviation called A Bad Thing. I knew that the Master Caution Light was blinking,and that a light that I had never seen lit before was lit. I was able to read it, from my vantage point.

It said: Low Rotor RPM.

I immediately hit the Crew Call button so I could listen in on the pilots' conversation. As usual, their voices were calm, and they were immediately going through the emergency procedures for engine failure by rote memory, and the co-pilot was backing him up by using the pilot manual.

After a few seconds, the pilot said, "Wait a sec. What do you hear?"

The co-pilot replied,"Nothing."

"Right," said the pilot. No change in engine or rotor pitch. So that means what?" (the pilot was also an instructor pilot, and he was used to acting in this manner).

He continued, "Bad RPM sensor. So, with a bad sensor, the manual says to Land as Soon as Practical. We are too far to RTB (Return to Base), so let's head up to Roswell and have a new sensor flown up to us."

Roswell, New Mexico. Home to Alientown USA... and they market it pretty well.

We landed at the airfield, and shut down. It just so happened that during this time of year that Operation Roving Sands was happening, and this year there happened to be more involved units than in previous exercises. Also this year the Air Force brought in some B-1 Bombers and some tankers to support them.

Being the son of a retired USAF Master Sergeant, I know a few things about how the Air Force guards its beloved bombers. At one point early in my daddy's career he was actually an Air Policeman, and guarded bombers and so he told me what the deal was at a very early age how things worked on an Air Force base.

Basically, if you are anywhere near US Air Force bombers without authorization, you can be shot. If you drive by USAF bases and can see the runway, there is always a barbed wire fence. Every certain distance on this fence is a sign that says something to the effect of "Stay the Hell Away!!" Thay say it in more subtle language,but you are supposed to get the hint. To make the point more effective, at the bottom of every sign is a phrase in red lettering, in all capital letters.

It says, "THE USE OF DEADLY FORCE IS AUTHORIZED"

Basically that means that they can shoot you. No ifs, ands or buts.

I tell you that because as we were walking into the airport operations building, the airport staff was acting upset.

It seems some reporter took it upon his Pulitzer Prize hopes that he would walk out to the area where the B-1 bombers and take pictures.Well, when the Air Force Policemen (they call them "Security Policemen" now) found out, they drove out there and not so politely took his camera away and threw him to the ground and pointed their weapons at him while they made sure that he was not a threat. Once they figured out he was a dumbass and not a terrorist, they put him in a Military Police car, and drive him back to the operations building. Before they let him go his film was confiscated.

And the airport staff told us this they were indignant that something like that could happen. Me, being the non-Politically Correct individual that I am, told her simply, "He's extremely lucky they didn't shoot his ass." They looked at me like deer caught in headlights.

I proceeded to tell them why, and when they understood, then they accepted that maybe going out there was one of the Dumber Things That Happened At Roswell That Day.

I digress.

Once inside Operations, we called our home base and had the new sensor sent out, then asked for a courtesy car so we could go into town and grab some lunch.

The car? A 1975 Ford LTD...wagon. We rode in style to the Roswell Pizza Hut in the pimp mobile... laughing the whole way. Driving through town we noticed that there were all kinds of places with "Alien" and "UFO" in them... totally working the angle in any way they can.

After lunch, we went back and waited for what seemed like forever. Eventually, a helicopter with a mechanic and the spare part arrived, and they installed it, then tested it to make sure that it was installed correctly. Finally, after everything was tested and written up according to regs, we flew back to our home base.

I never had a chance to go back there, but I definitley have a goal to go back and visit Roswell, and a lot more of the New Mexico countryside, as my father is from part of that area.

But those are stories for later.

Tomorrow...

If I had been fortunate enough to stay in the Army, and survived all the deployments and training exercises, I would have 20 years, and eligible for retirement. Of course, that does not mean that I would have retired at 20; I greatly enjoyed my job, and made good friends.

I was a part of history in 2 different places, and I am sure that had I stayed in, I would have been a part of more (had I not been sick I would have gone back for Serbo and Croatian language training, and at least two deployments to Bosnia).

Tomorrow will be a good day, and I will have several beers; one for the Regiment, one for the Commander-in-Chief, and one for the Army. I will then drink a lot more for friends, both here and not; and I miss every single one of them.

Not a day goes by that I do not think about and miss my time in the Army; I truly loved being a soldier, both in good times and bad.

Right Thinking Breaks it Down, Shotgun Style

in this article. He demonstrates what has to be done in order for us to defeat Islam.

I like this guy's style... He is funny, but he knows his stuff.

If I Were President

I would have offered Israel all of our old FB-111 Bombers... I have a feeling that they would upgrade the hovno out of them and make them better than when we used them. Israel still uses the F-4, and it suits them very well.

Just an opinion....

For the Record...

My idea fora UN Peacekeeping force would be the 31st Marine Expeditionar Unit (Special Operations Capable), including its air and naval assets, and a battalion of the British Parachute Regiment, with some Australian assets thrown in for good measure...

If there needs to be a force to keep the peace, then give it some bite. I have yet to see a peacekeeping force that could fight its way out of a paper sack... If Hezbollah wants topark its missiles near them, they would not last long...

Peace definitely would be restored... Indonesian and subpar troops that are inexperienced in the art of war and afraid to fight are not the answer. The United States already has troops in the Sinai Peninsula as part of the Multi-National Force & Observers, there since its inception (the National Guard rotates battalions out of there). This would not be a problem, once we withdraw most of our troops from Iraq.

I am not saying this is the answer, but like I mentioned, if you want a peacekeeping force, use troops that are well-trained, and give them rules of engagement that authorizes swift and harsh punishment for any breach of peace.

Like they say, "No better friend, no worse enemy than a United States Marine."

I am now off my soapbox... go here to read how ineffectively UNIFIL did its job.

New Addition to Security around here

It was decided by the HouseHold 6 element (aka, the wife) that the perimeter of the Headquarters and Barracks needed an Auxiliary alarm system in addition to the Auxiliary Alarm System.

So, we went and found a unit that would serve the needs of the command.

Everyone, meet Brutus.

The house is so much more secure now...

"We're Americans!!!"

When Kuwait was invaded by theIraqi Army in August, 1990, my platoon was involved in an exercise in the area of the British Army of the Rhine. Our helicopters flew up to the German Army airfield at Celle, and the suppport trucks drove up.

Landing at the airfield, we immediately got out and tied down the helicopter, as per procedure. We noticed that we were on a different airfield, as when we put on our headgear (military for hats), we were asked to remove them on the flight line (not to mention that German helicopters were all over, and everyone spoke German). We were pretty much asked to do this everyday; they eventually started to almost get mad. But they understood... Pavlovian reflexes and all...

As we had a lot of free time when not performing missions, those of us with them brought our bicycles. We did a lot of riding in the city, and had a blast doing it. One day, we decided that we wanted to visit the NAAFI, the British miitary's version of our Post Exchange- the Miiltary Mall.

So, one morning, about 10 of us rode out in search of the British barracks and hopefully find the NAAFI. We rodeall day, just enjoying the sites of this beautiful city. It was a gorgeous early summer day in Northern Germany, and we had a great time.

Eventually we found a British barracks, and we were allowed in after showing our American ID cards. we rode around and checked the area out for a while, then left. On our way out, we asked the guars where we could find the NAAFI, and they gave us directions.

So, after more riding, we came across a high wall that we knew on the other side was a miiltary compound of some sort. so, as it was by now mid afternoon, we sped up to go inside and do some shopping. Now remember, there are 10 white guys, most of us wearing backpacks, and riding bicycles... In the 80s there were multiple incidents of terrorism in Europe... like maybe guys riding bomb-laden backpacks on bikes into a military base was a definite possibility.

We turn into the main gate of this post, and we see 2 British Military Policemen (MPs), one at each side of the gate. the way the entrance to the barracks was, there was a small brick building about 5 meters inside the gate. instead of a window, a firing port faced the entrance. This is what we in the military call a Machine Gun Position.

All of us immediately slammed on n the brakes of our bikes and stopped. The MPs, while alert, did not show the slightest alarm. We announced that we are American, and reached for our ID cards. Once our identities were established, we asked them if they could tell us where the NAAFI is. As these jolly Limeys were talking to us, I cold hear the distinctive CLICK that the safety of a weapon makes when it is either engaged or released. So I then knew that these guys, while seemingly relaxed, were definitely ready for anything. Oh, and the barrel of the nice machine gun in the position was very much levelled at us...

So, with the directions in hand, we politely and very slowly turned around rode away, and in the direction of the NAAFI.

I do not know about the others, but I was pretty rattled the rest of the day. The others says they never heard the safeties being clicked; but as I used my ears for a living; I know my hearing was better than theirs by far. Oh, and I was a lot closer than them to one of the MPs.

Anyway, we eventually find the NAAFI and look around. It was a lostsmaller than we were used to compared to our Post Exchanges (think big 7-11 compared to a Wal-Mart - but the PX is wayyyy better - and tax-free), but we looked around and got some small trinkets, i believe.

Finally, through shopping, we ride the several milesback through the countryside and city to get back to the airfield.

Interesting side note: As the invasion of Kuwait had just started, and the first American troops just deployed there (82d, 101st Airborne Divisions, and the (I think) 1st MARDIV), of course we talked amongst ourselves what might happen if Operation Desert Shield were to get larger in scope. We eventually agreed that our unit (the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment, and the entire VII US Corps) probably would not be deployed; as VII Corps was still involved in some actual missions compared to V Corps, in a different part of Germany that covered the former East Germany. As it turned out, the opposite occurred; VII deployed to Saudi Arabia and V Corps was not...

However, the exercise at Celle was one of most fun exercises I was in during my time in the Army.

Great editorial over at American Spectator

I read an interesting editorial this morning at American Spectator...

A key paragraph:

"This is not Clausewitz's brand of warfare. It bears no resemblance to traditional warfare among civilized nations, which was waged with honor and dignity. Rather we have non-state terrorist groups hiding behind the skirts of women and the bibs of babies. As we've seen in Iraq, Bosnia, Afghanistan and now Lebanon, civilians, particularly dead civilians, are more important to winning than rockets and guns. And it takes a lot of dead women and infants to win a war."

Go and read the rest... very insightful.

"Bring it the F*** ON!"

Alphecca has a good post up from last week (sorry it is late), commenting about how we differ from our neighbors across the pond, the European Union.

I heartily recommend it.

As he is from Vermont, home of the best gun laws in the country, I would proudly stand and fight next to him!!

He has good stuff always, and I hope you go there often as well. If you don't, you damn sure should.