Before I begin, I missed the PRT by 5 situps, I guess that having a wonderful girl that can bake at home really added a few inches on my waist.
So if your looking for news, please disregard the rest of the blog, and hang up the phone now. If you are looking for a memoir; press 1 now, and read on.
This week when we were being tested on our physical capability, and the last event is the 2 mile run. Our course in NFH is a mile stretch of road, run from one cone to the other. The goal is to come in under the time designated for your age group. (Mine for an example is a 2 mile run in a measly 17:36).
The run doesnt catch up to you until over a mile. That is where you burn out all your anxiety energy, and you are just stranded out there, jogging home. It is slightly nerve racking because all the other group runs you are, well, in a group running together, sing cadences. The similiariry I see in each run is that we can't be silent! When we are focusing on our shins exploding, and the lack of air in our chest, we look out and shout at our peers quick phrases of encouragement, or bribery. I have been on both ends of this, as the one being yelled at, I straghtened up, breathed deeper, ran faster, and relaxed. As the shouter, I was distracted from my own problems. Focusing on the group effort removed my personal needs, because I could feel better if I pushed someone else across the finish line.
I look at the few people I live with, sleep with, eat with, and its truly is a different relationship that no one can understand unless you have been there yourself. I have had few other times where this has happened, mainly on my mission.
I try to explain the closeness of the relationships, but its hard to convey the emotions attached to it. I figure thats why it termed "Brothers in Arms"
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
I ponder on all the things I did over the last week to come out with some funny nuance that all encompasses the over arching mood of the week. (Yes, I'm listening to Frank Sinatra, therefore, I feel smarter.) The only memories that stick out are not of the humorous punchline, but is found in the impromptu lessons that were found in the sweet reprise after our work day has settled.
After running nearly 5 weeks straight pulling more than 14 hour shifts. I have finally been able to slow down a bit and act more like a typical 9-5 job. this allows me to spend a few more moments in the barracks with my fellow soldiers.
The 'older' soldiers, that is to say, the ones with gray hairs, vastly outnumber the 'younger' ones. This only changes the dynamic of how you request help. You typically approach them as if they were your grandpa, and less like your high school buddy (I swear I may get to the point eventually)
A few nights ago, I requested help with my haircut from one of the officialese that has created a small business out of trimming hair. He promptly grab his tools and a chair and motioned me into the sink room. Staring at the white brick wall, wondering how old the ceiling fixtures were, he prepped his clippers and turned them on. I believe that the sound of clippers have a profound soothing effect on the general male population, because as he began to cut my hair, we both started relaxing.
It didn't take long for the 'barber shop talk' to begin. I probed his mind of Army stuff. He asked general questions one would ask another at a neighborhood barbecue. The point of the conversation was neither here nor there, but eventually i had to ask him if he'll ever start his own barber shop. (The question was slightly racist, because he was an African American that was good with clippers).
This started his monologue, which I was contempt in letting him talk. I cannot tell you all the things he touched on or eluded to, because his voice was soft and the clippers were on my head. I felt his sincerity when he did talk. I do remember him talking about giving generously, and to follow your dreams with your family.
We have older people in our life so that we have examples and advisers in our life. Just remember that their advice, not doctrine.
(Darn, no more Frank Sinatra, I guess I'm done! Hee Hee)
After running nearly 5 weeks straight pulling more than 14 hour shifts. I have finally been able to slow down a bit and act more like a typical 9-5 job. this allows me to spend a few more moments in the barracks with my fellow soldiers.
The 'older' soldiers, that is to say, the ones with gray hairs, vastly outnumber the 'younger' ones. This only changes the dynamic of how you request help. You typically approach them as if they were your grandpa, and less like your high school buddy (I swear I may get to the point eventually)
A few nights ago, I requested help with my haircut from one of the officialese that has created a small business out of trimming hair. He promptly grab his tools and a chair and motioned me into the sink room. Staring at the white brick wall, wondering how old the ceiling fixtures were, he prepped his clippers and turned them on. I believe that the sound of clippers have a profound soothing effect on the general male population, because as he began to cut my hair, we both started relaxing.
It didn't take long for the 'barber shop talk' to begin. I probed his mind of Army stuff. He asked general questions one would ask another at a neighborhood barbecue. The point of the conversation was neither here nor there, but eventually i had to ask him if he'll ever start his own barber shop. (The question was slightly racist, because he was an African American that was good with clippers).
This started his monologue, which I was contempt in letting him talk. I cannot tell you all the things he touched on or eluded to, because his voice was soft and the clippers were on my head. I felt his sincerity when he did talk. I do remember him talking about giving generously, and to follow your dreams with your family.
We have older people in our life so that we have examples and advisers in our life. Just remember that their advice, not doctrine.
(Darn, no more Frank Sinatra, I guess I'm done! Hee Hee)
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Convoy?
I was so excited about yesterdays adventures, I need to share it with my Blogosphere! As everyone knows that reads this on a consist basis, I have been in Texas for the last month getting ready to head out into "the sandbox." A lot of the training has been class work and study. Yesterday, I did things a little different.
Meet Rocko and Bull
These two handsome vechiles are the newest craze in the Army. both are mine/IED resistant, completely are armored, go anywhere you need them, and have their own Life support system in case of a chemical attack.
More Images
 |
I Got to play with Rocko and Bull, along with a few of their friends. The Army viewed it as training us to look for sign of explosives while driving in convoys. I saw this as a day of off-roading. Mother nature was even kind enough to have it rain all night prior, so we had plenty of mud and puddles to climb through, and by the end of the night we were MUDDY.
The next day, we started a more "life-like" We drove around the back of Fort Hood to simulate a convoy. I was placed in lead car, Gunner seat (the Turret up top) it was fun to be standing in a moving vechile after all those years that mom never let me.
Army gives you many opportunities to full fill your childhood dreams!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)