I have so many stories I want to tell and so little time to tell them, but I wanted to share the newest thing I have come to realize about the Army: changing course and moving forward is not their cup of tea. They like to write Fragmentary Orders, or FRAGOS.
When I hear fragmentary, I think of grenades. Most of you may not get that connection right away, but hey, I have been to high-speed, low-drag NARMY training and we learned how to throw grenades. I like to thing something as simple as a change or additional order must be a big deal to the Army, and thus like throwing a frag grenade into somebody's well-laid plans.
It seems that the Army needs written orders for everything they do. If they set up a command, they need an order that lays out the scope of the command; its structure, services, responsibilities and accountability. That part makes total sense.
However, if this scope doesn't include an 11 am weekly conference call with various command components, a FRAGO gets written. You can't just send an invite out to Bob and Bill and Tom with a recurring meeting time, you need an order. Really?
To put this in perspective of my daily civillian life, if you run to Starbucks to pick up coffee for your friends and someone wants to add an order, they can't just call you on the cell phone. If the Army were in charge, someone would have to write an official order and send it to you, your friends and probably even Starbucks.
I just don't get it.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Marine Camp..part 2
I didn't get to finish my story last time and while I know you can't imagine my trip to the Marine camp getting any better; keep reading.
I believe I left off after the shower incident. I got myself dressed and went about my business. After all, I didn't travel down South to frolick in tepid shower water. Somewhere along the line, we went to lunch where again I feasted like a fat kid who broke out of fitness camp. I stuffed my pockets with all the goodies t he DFAC had to offer. This included Dr Pepper. I put a can in my leg cargo pocket and went on my way. It stayed with me all day since I wanted to take it home and enjoy it in front of the envious eyes of my co-workers. Our drink selection here largely consists of strawberry and lemon Fanta. Who drinks that anyways?
At the days' end, we prepared to leave so the team could drop me off at the terminal to catch my evening flight. Now, I may have mentioned I had my M4 with me. I have a pistol and technically, I only need A weapon to travel. However, anytime I head to a new location, I like to take my rifle as well. I just don't know what to expect; I don't know if it's a ride from the terminal to our work location or what the standard is on the base I am visiting. Had I asked my counterparts, I am sure they would have advised I keep my rifle at home. Of course, I didn't ask them. If you aren't familiar with carrying a rifle in uniform, this would be a good time to point out that you carry it slung over your back when just walking around base. The sling crosses your chest and torso and the rifle diagonally slung across your back.
Sometime I hit stuff with the barrel of my rifle if I pass to close to inanimate objects. As it just so happens, we passed an AC unit and somehow the barrel of my rifle must have hit the Dr Pepper in my cargo pocket. I heard a tinny sound, a pop and then liquid spraying from somewhere. I stopped to survey the situation. It took a second, but eventually I looked down. That's about when I felt wet..it took me another second to organize the facts as I saw them. Exploding liquid sound, wet leg and spray of liquid emanating from my pants. It all came together; my Dr Pepper exploded in my pants! The guys I was with realized the situation about when I did and I thought they were going to fall over laughing. I never knew 12 ounces could be so much. It just kept on spraying. When the excitement was over, I grabbed the empty can out of my pocket and held it with two fingers. I didn't want to get my hands sticky...which was kind of a retarded thought considering I just exploded an ENTIRE can of Dr Pepper in MY PANTS! It was dripping down my damn boots. How does this shit happen to me?
If you're curious, Dr Pepper dries as a hard, sticky substance on clothes. My pant leg could have stood up on its own. One of the guys asked me if I wanted to go change. Yeah; that would be great but I was only planning on being in town for 24 hours; I only brought one damn uniform and it was the one I was currently in. Then, trying to be helpful, he asked if I wanted to go do laundry. Considering I was on my way to catch a plane, that wasn't going to work out so well either. So I went to the terminal.
The extra fun thing about military air is you have to check in a few hours prior to your flight's departure. Once you check in, you can't leave the terminal. The other really fun thing about military air is the delay factor. My 1630 flight left somewhere around 2330. I got home sometime after 1am and then had to walk 1/2 mile to my barracks room, with my sticky, Dr Pepper leg. It was definitely dry by the time I got home (it did dry quickly seeing as how I was in the damn desert) but I was still a mess. All I wanted to do was shower, but considering the day I had...I baby wiped my leg and fell asleep instead.
I don't like Dr Pepper so much anymore.
I believe I left off after the shower incident. I got myself dressed and went about my business. After all, I didn't travel down South to frolick in tepid shower water. Somewhere along the line, we went to lunch where again I feasted like a fat kid who broke out of fitness camp. I stuffed my pockets with all the goodies t he DFAC had to offer. This included Dr Pepper. I put a can in my leg cargo pocket and went on my way. It stayed with me all day since I wanted to take it home and enjoy it in front of the envious eyes of my co-workers. Our drink selection here largely consists of strawberry and lemon Fanta. Who drinks that anyways?
At the days' end, we prepared to leave so the team could drop me off at the terminal to catch my evening flight. Now, I may have mentioned I had my M4 with me. I have a pistol and technically, I only need A weapon to travel. However, anytime I head to a new location, I like to take my rifle as well. I just don't know what to expect; I don't know if it's a ride from the terminal to our work location or what the standard is on the base I am visiting. Had I asked my counterparts, I am sure they would have advised I keep my rifle at home. Of course, I didn't ask them. If you aren't familiar with carrying a rifle in uniform, this would be a good time to point out that you carry it slung over your back when just walking around base. The sling crosses your chest and torso and the rifle diagonally slung across your back.
Sometime I hit stuff with the barrel of my rifle if I pass to close to inanimate objects. As it just so happens, we passed an AC unit and somehow the barrel of my rifle must have hit the Dr Pepper in my cargo pocket. I heard a tinny sound, a pop and then liquid spraying from somewhere. I stopped to survey the situation. It took a second, but eventually I looked down. That's about when I felt wet..it took me another second to organize the facts as I saw them. Exploding liquid sound, wet leg and spray of liquid emanating from my pants. It all came together; my Dr Pepper exploded in my pants! The guys I was with realized the situation about when I did and I thought they were going to fall over laughing. I never knew 12 ounces could be so much. It just kept on spraying. When the excitement was over, I grabbed the empty can out of my pocket and held it with two fingers. I didn't want to get my hands sticky...which was kind of a retarded thought considering I just exploded an ENTIRE can of Dr Pepper in MY PANTS! It was dripping down my damn boots. How does this shit happen to me?
If you're curious, Dr Pepper dries as a hard, sticky substance on clothes. My pant leg could have stood up on its own. One of the guys asked me if I wanted to go change. Yeah; that would be great but I was only planning on being in town for 24 hours; I only brought one damn uniform and it was the one I was currently in. Then, trying to be helpful, he asked if I wanted to go do laundry. Considering I was on my way to catch a plane, that wasn't going to work out so well either. So I went to the terminal.
The extra fun thing about military air is you have to check in a few hours prior to your flight's departure. Once you check in, you can't leave the terminal. The other really fun thing about military air is the delay factor. My 1630 flight left somewhere around 2330. I got home sometime after 1am and then had to walk 1/2 mile to my barracks room, with my sticky, Dr Pepper leg. It was definitely dry by the time I got home (it did dry quickly seeing as how I was in the damn desert) but I was still a mess. All I wanted to do was shower, but considering the day I had...I baby wiped my leg and fell asleep instead.
I don't like Dr Pepper so much anymore.
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