Toy Soldiers

and Bag Lunch.

those ideas perhaps most closely approximate the involuntold augmentee experience here at fort jackson. i emphasize toy, given the amount of training we have received. i estimate that the majority of the personnel here will likely be safe with their weapons (not negligently discharging them into their shipmates--something which caused 300 deaths this past year), but of little use in a combat scenario. i fully admit that i will probably personally be of little help, though i am very curious to see how i react under fire (uh, but not curious enough that it's on my list of "things to do"--all deities please take note of this).

it turns out, actually, that i might be one of the better shots in my platoon, despite shooting left-handed when decent aim is required--my right eye is worthless for a sight picture. of course, for close quarters (pistol and quick reaction rifle) and things like the 50 calibur machine gun and the fully automatic grenade launcher (oh, man, is that thing a good time), i rock righty. i am now able to repeatedly drop targets at 300 yards with my M16, and i believe i was lighting up targets even farther out than that with the M249 squad automatic weapon (saw) and the M24B (which fires a larger round than the M16 and M249). ambidextrous killer-man... it's just the way i roll. bark. bark.

meow?

it also turns out, in a platoon of 40 officers and senior enlisted, that my team of four was the only one to successfully complete a land navigation course in heavily wooded, hilly terrain. yes, that is nothing at all akin to the terrain of the iraqi desert. i'm not in charge of this training process. my team was the most junior team in the woods, i might add: two lieutenants (one a supply officer (for those not paying attention, that's not me)), and a first and second class each of aviation technician petty officers. so, a team of two O-3s, an E-5, and an E-6. there were teams of multiple o-4s and E-7s (and above) that got completely lost, and had to be recalled when time ran out. yikes. my team actually arrived back at the starting point almost 15 minutes before any other group. must've been the brilliant leadership.

we ran a mock convoy one morning. i sat in the rear of the last vehicle of seven; i was detailed to be the back-up saw gunner should the primary be "killed." our entire column drove past a series of ieds... until i spotted them and alerted my team commander. awesome. how six vehicles filled with 33 sailors do not see explosives tied in plain view to tree trunks at eye level, i do not know.

we culminated our training today with less than two hours of army close combat, which was really more like wrestling. it differs greatly from the marine corps line training i remember from my middie years (yes, there was a brief--i stress brief--period there when the corps romanced me away from the submarine force... it wore off). having had no chance to practically apply either, thankfully, i cannot say which is more effective--although i do know that line training is designed so that you, even if you're exhasted, can quickly kill a larger opponent with your bare hands (although it's usually your bootheel crashing through the nasal cavities and into the brainbox (oo-rah!)). maybe i'll find out if hajji tries to kidnap me.

when we pop a squat for lunch, we eat meals ready to eat (mres). these are vacuumed-sealed culinary disasters that could survive everything short of direct contamination from nuclear fallout. they are more durable than the eggs we in the submarine force store at room temperature... in the turbine generator lubrication oil (tglo) bay... for months. really. i'm not kidding. each [mre] consists of an approximation each of a main dish, a side dish, powdered drink mix, some form of cracker, and something to spread on the cracker. you do not get to choose your meal. upon opening them , we engage in the elementary ritual of declaring what portions of our repast are avaiable for trade, and bidding with one another in attempt to score that fruit roll-up in return for our lots and lots of mott's... with raspberry pieces. er, only they're not that tasty.

adding to the atmosphere, as it invariably does when a group of children are placed in close quarters, is the spread of disease. a cold struck me down last evening, and i've felt like hot candied ass ever since. the chill weather and the leaden weight of gear and weaponry do nothing but add to the misery.

this edition of "real life" makes me yearn to be a kid again, playing on my bedroom floor with my lego knights...
my toy soliders.