Hello All,

I hope that you weren't too worried at my lack of correspondence, I've been both busy AND bored since leaving CONUS, and I have lots to tell you all.

Let me begin with the load up on Sunday. In order to keep things orderly, the Army likes to organize. I am a HUGE fan of organizing; hence my 13 years service, and agreed that the best way to load all of our extra gear (you might remember me mentioning all the Crap they gave us after the railhead?) onto the trucks and the plane. Well, for the first time in my Army career the picked the list not by the biggest people (heavy lifting and all that) or from the front of the Alphabet, but from the rear. Yep, and our Hero (yours truly) was the second person in line. Now, I have no problem with hard work. I like to work up a sweat, and it also keeps my mind from drifting to things that I cannot control, however, we brought too much stuff (see Crap). There were over 250 duffel bags, weighing from 40 to 80 pounds, over 100 rucksacks (see Backpacks, but green!) and about 45,000 other pounds of food, water, medical supplies (good!) and ammo (BEST! nobody minds hauling ammo 'cause when you need it, and don't have it, that's a fucking crisis). So the load team moved all the gear onto a cargo truck in less than an hour, we then rode to the airbase (crammed like sardines) in busses and then loaded the plane. It was a beautiful 767, and I was reminded of all those movies where the hero can walk thru the belly of the plane without any problems.... that is bullshit. I'm 5'8" and had to bend over, and if you've ever worked in the belly of a cargo plane, I take my hat off to you. The weather was nice (about 50 degrees) and I was sweating thru my uniform by the time we were done. Oh, and while we were working, the rest of the company moved onto the plane an promptly went into chill mode. Nice. Am I upset? Nope. I expected that. And I expected to be on the same team when we arrived in Kuwait (oh, didn't I tell you we were going to Kuwait?), and I was. What I didn't expect (and I really should have) was the SCUD warning to go off as we were unloading the ammo on the tarmac (see Plane Parking Lot). Looking back it's more than a little funny, to me at least. I was in the belly of the plane, just about to set a case of ammo onto a conveyor belt that carried boxes, duffels, ect. down the rest of the team when I saw a buddy do something I'd never seen before. He is a veteran of Desert Storm, and he looked to his left, looked to his right, said, "SHIT" and threw the case of ammo he was holding to the ground, then proceeded to put on his mask. The part that Id never seen before was the ammo hitting the ground with total disregard. Ammo is precious, and generally treated with respect, but with inbound SCUDS I guess exceptions can be made. I followed his lead promptly, and then ran down the conveyor belt (that was SO cool, I felt like an action hero jumping over ammo cases) and into a bus waiting nearby. I thank God for Air Conditioning, and the "All Clear" (no chemical weapons present, no more SCUDS inbound) was given soon after. Whew, and that was the beginning of the day! (Actually it was mid-afternoon when we landed, but I had just woken up, so work with me here, ok?)

From there we were moved to a little place called Camp Wolf, a kind of clearing house for new soldiers in theater (see War Zone). We stood in line, showed ID and we officially welcomed to Kuwait, with a large tent, no cots and a wooden floor. Considering how tired we were (the load crew was just about spent after the download, jetlag, SCUD alert and moving into a place where you NEVER take off your protective suit, and NEVER go anywhere without your weapon) the wooden floor was just fine. Until the next SCUD alert came in, and this one was full on (those of you that scare easy may rest assured that we are all still doing well) as was the next two. 24 hours after we arrived at Wolf, we were given 20 minutes to pack up and be ready to move. Of course we were ready, and hadn't even moved our bags into the tent (how could we, there are so many bags that we'd never get the people in after them!) Oh, and I should mention that while leaving the bags outside with a guard seemed like a good idea at the time, after it started raining it was to late to rethink that plan (rain in the desert, sounds a bit typical, doesn't it?) We are now someplace else, but I am not going to tell you where (in case you don't know, OPSEC means OPerational SECurity, and that means that I won't tell anyone where we are going, because the Enemy can read this web site too, and I don't want to help that bastard at all!). I also know where I'm going next, not going to tell you that either (Don't think that I don't want to, normally I'm kinda blabby, but this is MY life here). I don't know when, or how, but probably soon. That also means that my internet access might become a little scarce also. Don't fear my dear friends and family and readers, I will prevail. Oh, and during the last SCUD attack (and this one was definitely an Attack) they got so close that I HEARD the Patriots lift off and take them out (yep, for all of those who know me personally, I'm still grinning, this job is so cool). If that doesn't bring a man home to Jesus, I don't know what will. Sorry if this one got a little long, I'm actually leaving some REALLY funny things out. Example, sure I can do that. A couple things you don't want to hear in a field shower: "I think this place smells worse than me." "Is it a bad sign when the skin starts peeling?" "I thought that I had a tan going until I washed it off." First soldier: "This place smells SO bad I don't even think that I can rub one off in here." Second soldier: "Wanna bet?" First soldier "You are a sick puppy." And the number one worst thing to hear in a field shower, "You gonna eat that?"

Gotta get going, it might be time to leave.

Love,
Will

PS I did NOT say any of the aforementioned quotes. I know you're all wondering, but no, not this time.

PPS Yesterday I ate like a king, that's why I expect to be gone tomorrow. The Army is getting predictable.

Hello All,

Just a quick note, and a thought to ponder as we prepare to leave CONUS (Continental United States). We are leaving by a civilain airplane (767, yep it's pimpin'), lots of space to stretch out and walk a bit (can you say 20 hours in the air? HOOAH!), however, no sharp objects are being allowed on your person or in your carry on bag. What the fuck, over? We are carrying our WEAPONS (see WAY more dangerous than a toenail clipper), but, oh-no, nothing that might jepordize the safety of the flight crew. Do these idiots know what I can do with a rifle, no ammo necessary. Butt-stroke to the head (see use the weapon as a club) and most men will be down for the count, or at least REALLY tired.

I hope that this idiotic bullshit ends when we're in the combat zone. My hair is starting to fall out.

Love,

Will

Hello All,

I saw this at the end of a movie, and I believe it says quite a bit. I hope you enjoy it, too.

"If you are able,
save for them a place
inside of you
and save one backward glance
when you are leaving
for the places they
can no longer go.
Be not ashamed to say
you loved them,
though you may
or may not have always.
Take what they have left
and what they have taught you
with their dying
and keep it with your own.
And in that time
when men decide and feel safe
to call war insane,
take one moment to embrace
those gentle heroes
you left behind."

Maj. Michael O'Donnell
1 Jan 70
Dak To, Vietnam

I love you all,

Will

PS - I am going to Baghdad to personally shoot that paper hanging son of a bitch!

Hello All,

Well, we've finally found a plane to take us to our destination (nope, still not gonna tell you) and we're leaving on Sunday. I want to send out a HUGE thank you to everyone that has sent snail mail, food, posted messages and visited the website. I appreciate every one of you, and love writing for you all.

I will try to send out a mail as soon as I put my boots on the ground, but things look kinda busy over there (you can probably figure out my destination with that one). I have contingency plans for sending my messages (see Rants) home thru other means, but I hope to find a terminal someplace in country.

Try not to worry. I'm ready. My soldiers are ready. The world may not be behind us, but I believe that God supports us, and if He be with us, who could stand against us (ok, I stole that one, but I can't remember the original writer). My weapon is ready, my body armor is ready, my protective mask (see Gas Mask) is ready.

God bless you all. I will see you all in a couple months.

Lets Roll,

Will

PS - My parents are receiving a blue star flag from the American Legion, why not show a little support and go down to your local pub and buy a Veteran a beer. You might just learn a little about what it takes to defend freedom, and make an old soldier smile.

Hello All,

I suppose that you're wondering how things are going, and whether I'm still on the Iceberg. Well, things are the same here with the small exception of packing.

We began our packing yesterday, and then more equipment was issued (see Body Armor) and then we repacked, adjusted and shifted loads. Then more gear (see New Chemical Protective Suits) came in and we repacked, adjusted and shifted loads. Then EVEN more gear (see Bottled water, MRE's and toilet
paper) came in and we repacked (again), adjusted (again) and shifted loads (again). Are you beginning to see a pattern here? Me too.

As I was packing up my gear (one of the many times) a morose feeling of reality set in. It was a bit like a going to meet your girlfriends parents for the first time, and you know that you're making a transition in your life and have no clue how it's going to turn out. Except this trip involves live ammo, body armor and chemical protective suits (Ok, so it's nothing like going to meet the parents, but work with me here). I thought about what I was feeling for a couple minutes and then walked into the platoon bay (see a large open room with beds where soldiers sleep) and made a count of my squad. They were all quietly packing, there was no radio playing, no small talk, each soldier inventorying and folding and loading their gear. This was a bit odd, and comforting at the same time. Usually the soldiers are listening to the radio and giving each other a hard time, but it seems that reality had set in with them as well. The war has begun, and we are going. Hopefully soon.

I say hopefully soon because our initial departure date has come and gone, and we're still waiting on a plane. We know that the war has begun and do NOT want to miss it. We have all worked too hard, for too long, to miss this fight. Don't get me wrong, there aren't any war lovers here, we (at least I) want the opportunity to serve our country and prove that we can do our jobs. What would it be like to practice for a football game, for years, and never get into the stadium? Standing fast is an Army term for holding in place, and that's exactly what we're doing. Like soldiers. We obey our orders and stand ready to go (it's a bit more like chomping at the bit).

This rant isn't too funny, sorry about that, but last night I hosted my promotion party (I'll be commissioned after I'm de-mobilized) and I bought a lot of beer for the company. I also drank a lot of beer with my friends and fellow soldiers, who are enjoying this opportunity to give ME a hard time. You see, I'll be commissioned as a Second Lieutenant, and the rank will be a gold bar on my collar (opposed to the stripes I'm currently wearing). It's also known as a "butter bar." My friends (my only friends here) decided that they shouldn't have to wait for the ceremony and decided to pin on my new rank right away. Nice right, soldiers that want to help a brother out and promote him on the spot. Yeah, but they decided to use a small, single serving butter container instead of the actual gold bar, and then named me (affectionately) "butters." I'm a good sport, so I played along. If the picture turns out, maybe I'll post it. Then again, maybe not.

Oh, and I had a question on the website from a former 11 Bravo (that's an Infantryman, to you lucky civilians) about the quality of our protective suits. Back in his day, they were so hot that all they really could do was hold their perimeter and try not to work too much (you see, all that gear increases your core body temperature, somewhere around 10 degrees and that makes even the littlest things difficult over time). Well, when I first joined the Army, I worked with the same gear and it was hot, bulky and messy (you see, there is activated charcoal in the suit to neutralize any chemical agents that we might encounter, and in the old suits it fell out of the suit and turned EVERYTHING black). We now have new suits that have the charcoal sealed inside, are lighter and have several other improvements that a soldier can use (see big pockets with Velcro NOT snaps). We are also using a better mask than before (bigger eye lenses, better filter and MUCH more comfortable rubber seals). Also, the new masks are easier to breathe with, considering that breathing in the old masks was like breathing through 2 straws, it couldn't get too much worse (the new masks are like breathing through 4 straws, HOOAH!).

To answer the question, the gear is still very difficult to work with, but it's getting better. Hopefully soon (by the time I retire) they'll come out with something even better, like no more chemical weapons.

Better get going here, I think they're going to issue us more stuff too pack. I wonder what war was like before they had all this crap.

Love,

Will

Hello All,

I know that in my previous message I promised to tell you all about our wonderful "helpers." However, I have received some good news that I would like to share with you all.

About a year ago, I applied for a direct commission in the Army Reserve. What does that mean (for all you lucky civilians)? Well, in the Army there are two major classes of soldier, enlisted and officer. Right now, I'm an enlisted soldier (sergeant to be exact) and the enlisted side of the house usually (see Always) does the grunt work. The officers in the Army range from Lieutenant to General and are the people actually in command of units (Lieutenants take care of Platoons, Captains run companies, Majors run Battalions, ETC.). Well, after months of toil, paperwork and boards (that's where I got to stand tall in front of officers and get quizzed about my personality, intelligence and ability to think on my feet), I received the news that I am being recommended for appointment as a Second Lieutenant (OH-HELL-YEAH).

But here's the catch (you just knew there was a catch, didn't you?). I cannot be commissioned while on a mobilized status. If I am, I am no longer qualified to do my job. You see, in the Army, until you've attended the qualifying course (see US Army Chemical School, HOOAH!), you're not qualified for any job. And the officer course is different than the enlisted course I attended 13 (yep, I've been in since I was 17, and I still love the work) years ago. You might think that this is unwise (see Dumb) considering that I have 13 years of experience in my job field, but I do not. Firstly, I haven't been through the Chemical School in 13 years, and there have been many developments in the equipment and operations since then. I'm up to speed, but nobody can know everything. Secondly, and most importantly, I want to go through this operation as a Sergeant. It will be good for me to learn the bottom level of the operations, on a real life level, before I go on to run them from the top. Also, this job is tough enough as a Sergeant; I can only imagine how tough it is as a Platoon Leader (see Lieutenant).

Oh, and one more thing. After this is all over, I go on to five months of training to become a Chemical Officer. Wow! Another five months, yep. But I think I might have just found my motivation to quit smoking during the upcoming operation (see War). That training will be a bit more intensive and difficult than the enlisted side, and I can't wait to get there.

It's too bad you're not all here, I'm buying the beer.

Love,

Will

PS I've had LOTS of comments and letters and jokes on the website, and I would like to thank everyone that posts a message. I appreciate your thanks, concern and general positive attitude. If you've asked me a question, please be patient as I'll try to address them in due course.

Hello All,

Well, you can probably tell from the subject of this message (see Rant) that I am in an exceptionally good mood right now. Let me begin from my last rant, and let you know how the week played out.

Last time I told you that we were leaving on the 20th. There was great rejoicing for we all LOVE (see Hate) Ft. McCoy, WI. We ate all our pogey bait (see snack food in Army terms), sent home our extra clothing and packed our bags, and all was right with the Army. But, Mr. Murphy (and his laws) just had to show up. You see, our "helpers" (previously mentioned as being no help whatsoever) didn't like the idea of us leaving and losing all that great pay (Captains make good money, especially compared to Sergeants). So, the head, "helper" decided to jump the chain of command (see Sin, forgivable only by Jesus) and called his Colonel, and said that we weren’t ready. Ok, his opinion counts, but dammit, why was he so underhanded and cowardly. Why not be a MAN and look me in the eye and tell me that he doesn't think that I'm ready for war (by the way, nobody is ever ready for war, period). This guy was the kid in grade school that reminded the teacher about the homework assignment 2 minutes before the bell, and looks like him too.

I know you're wondering, did our hero lose his temper and strike an officer. Nope. But almost. Here's why.... when he jumped the chain of command, that put a freeze on everything. Screeching halt. The plane has diverted to another unit, and we had to begin preparing for another mission (remember, I'm a HUMVEE, I'm a HUMVEE!). Morale sank, tempers rose and bags were unpacked. Thoughts of anvils falling from the sky and squashing a dipshit officer filled my head, and I was ever so tempted to try and find a ladder. But, soldiers are disciplined, and we simply shut up and soldiered on.

The mission went well (I have to shorten this up 'cause this computer is needed by another officer, not quite a dipshit, but definitely not squared away).

Nobody know when we're leaving now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe Friday or Saturday or Sunday. Nobody knows. We just want to get to the fight and get home.

I'll try to write again fairly quickly, because you just have to know about how these "helpers" were grading us. It's so wrong, the devil himself was giggling.

Love,

Will

Hello All,

It has been brought to my attention that my little rants are catching on with more than just the people that know me. So, I think that I'll take a break from my usual rants and give you a quick Bio.

Well, I'm 29 (turn 30 in April, yippee), single and Caucasian, actually I'm very Caucasian (see Translucent). I went to college at USD (that's South Dakota or fly-over to you cosmopolitan types) and that's where I met Captain Rooba. I've been in the Army Reserve for almost 13 years, and I do enjoy it. It's not a power trip, it's just a job that I do well.

My Official Army job is Nuclear, Chemical and Biological Weapons Specialist (impressive, isn't it). What that really means is that I go in after a Nuclear, Chemical or Biological attack, and wash cars and help people clean up their gear (in Omaha, my home, that's called Merry Maids). It's very detail oriented, and requires a lot of practice because if I, or any of my soldiers, make a mistake, it could cost lives.

In my civilian life I was a computer geek. I started about 7 years ago working for Gateway (insert boo or hiss here) and it was a good beginning for me. I studied, earned certifications, moved to Omaha, and had finally found a good job that I liked (and I'm not just sucking up to my boss, I'm sucking up to everyone at Home Instead). Then I was activated and sent to sunny (lie), pleasant (another lie) and mullet filled (true!) Wisconsin.

When I get home I'm planning on a nation wide tour, visiting friends, family and drinking heavily. I also plan to quit smoking after my little excursion to places unknown (still can't tell you).

Oh, and I'm going to end this message on a high note. I can't tell you where I'm going, but I can tell you when. March 20th. That's 5 days. Those of you that have been following my rants and raves know that's 3 more days than we had to move all our equipment onto railroad cars. Oh, and General Winter has fallen back and it's finally nice in Wisconsin. Typical.

I want you all to know that I appreciate your support, love and well wishes. I will come home soon, and without any new holes in my body. For all of you that are enjoying this web site www.rooba.net/will I hope you have as much fun reading my little rants as I have in writing them. Maybe this can turn into a book someday.

Love,

Will

PS I don't know how much email access I'll have, but I will find one way or another to get word back to all.

Hello All,

Good news, the General has been beaten back, and Mr. Sun has held Ft. McCoy for 3 days now. Yep, it's been sunny, warm and all the snow has melted into puddles (see Pond/Lake).

Today I'd like to talk to you a little about stress. Now, I've defined stress as disorder caused when one's mind overrides the bodies overwhelming desire to chock the living shit out of someone that desperately needs it. I like to deal with stress with cigarettes and alcohol and push-ups. Others, however, use other tools (see Pranks). Would you like an example? Sure, I can do that.

Last night we had something exceptionally funny happen in the barracks. It began with an ambush. My roommate was in the shower when another soldier filled a mop bucket (remember, we don't have mops, but we do have buckets) with COLD water. The cold water was then hurled at my roommate, direct hit as I am told, and the battle began. The assailant (who will remain nameless, until I get a book deal) then fell back (see ran like a little girl) upstairs for cover. My roommate plotted his revenge as he washed off the filthy and cold water. Seeing that he still had the initiative, the assailant moved to my room and (without me knowing that the battle had begun, I swear) asked to borrow a condom. Now, I believe that any man that asks for a condom, should be given one (unless it's my LAST one and I'm going to need it) and I readily handed one out. Giggling, he left my room and I just shook my head and tried to focus on other things. Moments later (and I am not making this up) he returned with the condom, unrolled, and laid it out on my roommates bed. Specifically... on the pillow. His civilian pillow that he brought from home. Now if you think this is weird, hold on, I'm going somewhere with this.

My roommate returns from the shower, finally clean (again) and in a generally good mood (he's already got a plan for his enemy, and he's feeling a bit cocky), wearing a towel and flip-flops. As he walks in, breaking down his plan for revenge that he can't wait to implement, he looks at his bunk, stops, and hisses, "that little asshole." He then runs over to the door and screams, "YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE!" Now this is where it gets a little weird. My roommate drops his towel by his bed, puts on his gas mask, rubber chemical protective gloves and runs down the hall (for those of you that aren't paying attention, he's only wearing a mask, gloves and flip-flops). He's got the condom in on hand, screaming, "WOOGIE, WOOGIE, WOOGIE" and begins chasing his former attacker (now a defender) slapping him with the condom. Corners him, knocks him onto a bed, jumps on his back and continues slapping his target with the unrolled condom, still screaming, "WOOGIE, WOOGIE, WOOGIE!" Now, if you're not laughing, you had to be there.

As I was mentioning about stress relief, I like chemicals (nicotine GOOD!) and pushups. Some folks just like to run around naked and slap people with condoms.

You know, people at home think that I'm weird. Uh-Un, baby, the world is weird and I'm just trying to fit in.

Love,

Will

PS more to follow

Hello All,

Well, yesterday we had our first mission and boy was it fun (see BULLSHIT). The mission was expected. It was planned for. Equipment was trained on and soldiers trained for their responsibilities. The plan was set on Monday, the mission was planned for Wednesday, and on Tuesday we received our orders. The problems began with our orders (at the beginning, you say?
No!)

Well, without going into too much detail, we prepared for one of our three missions (yep, we can magnify synergy thru multitasking to create a harmonious outcome. I've worked in the corporate workplace too long) however we received orders to perform a different mission (SURPRISE!). No problem, we can do this. We just put the original plan (see INTENSIVE CAR
WASH) on the back-burner, develop a new plan (see CAR WASH) and drive on. You see, we get fucked like this ALL the time. It's called good training, and it is good to practice for contingencies, however it still chafes me in a place where the sun fails to shine.

Ok, maybe I should give you a little info on our missions (I know you probably don’t care, but this might be helpful later). In the event of Chemical Warfare (see SLIMED), somebody has to clean the soldiers and vehicles they ride in, and this is where our hero comes in. We have two kinds of decontamination missions, Thorough and Operational. Thorough decon (See INTENSIVE CAR WASH) is a detail-oriented mission where the contaminated unit rolls in dirty and out clean. It’s very long, hard work (especially considering you’re wearing a gas mask and protective clothes during this entire operation.) Operational decon (see CAR WASH) is all about speed and helping mother nature break down the chemical agents (this one is pretty easy, unless the wind shifts, because those chemical agents can be blown around and re-contaminate cleaned vehicles, and that sucks loads). The contaminated unit is still dirty, but is able to drive on with their mission without losing too much time.

So, we've built a new plan (on Tuesday Afternoon for Wednesday’s mission) and have trained ALL the soldiers on their new jobs. We've walked around the parade field, again, saying, "I'm a HUMVEE, I'm a HUMVEE!" Things look good, orders are given; let’s go make sure the equipment is ready to go. Oops! Forgot that we only have enough equipment for one platoon, and that platoon is still on their mission. Shit, this is where it begins to get tense. So we review our training, and they haven't returned. Damn, they show up at 1830 (that's 6:30 pm for you lucky, and warm, civilians) and we start working on the vehicles, trailers and equipment. Finished about 2300 (11:00 pm) and put the soldiers to bed. Well, what did our hero do next? I went on a recon of the route to the site because my soldier made some mistakes on the way there earlier, and I want make sure we don't get lost on the way to the objective (see OPEN FIELD). I get home about 0035 (midnight) and crash, only to wake up at 0430 (better know as O-Dark Thirty). Quick shave, pit stick, a greasy breakfast and into my snivel gear I go, the General is still around.

Draw weapons, line up the vehicles for the convoy and we are off! Around the bend, over the hill and, Oops, wrong turn! Shit, quick turn around and we're rolling again (apparently my midnight recon looked a little different in the daylight, I wonder why?) We arrive at the site on time (I used to deliver pizza, and can drive like a HUMVEE like a NASCAR champion), we're rolling up and ordered to stop.

You see, dear readers, nobody asked permission to use this location (normally our “helpers” take care of this detail, but these guys suck and don’t want to “help”). Ok, this I never expected. Fine, ask permission and open the site (whether permission is given or not, we're going in. This is the FIDO principal, Fuck-It-Drive-On). I'm beginning to lose my temper. Moving again, occupy the objective and setup, looking good. Everything is
cool, but the wind shifts, SHIT! Change everything around, jump thru your
own ass, twice, and now we're good, again. The Lieutenant goes out to link up with the dirty unit, gets lost, can’t find them (see TYPICAL). It was a first mission mistake, she sorts it out and finds them, no problems. We are groovy.

Do you remember those old, late night infomercials? You know, for the Ginsu knives where it sounds like the pitch man is ALMOST done, and then stops talking, looks at the camera and says, “BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!” Well, General Winter just had to intervene. The only way he could (all our Chemical Gear keeps up pretty warm, so he can’t freeze us), he moved the wind, again. Prick bastard. Change everything around, jump thru your own ass, twice, and now we're good. Again. The contaminated unit shows up, gets cleaned up and rolls out. The wrong way. One of our soldiers was there to guide them to the proper exit, using proper hand and arm signals (see WAVING) our customers still went the wrong way. Typical. At this point I’ve left being pissed off, and am the kind of quiet angry that cannot be measured. Oh, yeah, and due to the botched link-up with the contaminated unit, we get to do all this again.

Yippie.

Love,

Will

PS – Just so everybody knows, the only problem with the mission was the link-up. All of my soldiers performed well, and no major tasks were failed. I believe that my soldiers are some of the best in the Chemical Warfare field, and can run with anyone, anywhere, anytime. Oh, and I’ve forgiven the Lieutenant, she has recognized her mistake, and already proven to me that she CAN read a map, again.

Hello All,

Well, it's been a couple days since I've written, and I've got ALL kinds of news to talk (see RANT) about. In my last message, I told you all about how we're simulating (see PRETENDING) our missions to prove our worthiness to the Army (fairly understandable, considering that we're in the Chemical Warfare business). However, things have grown to a whole new level (see ASININE).

We have a team of Observer Controllers (see ANAL-RETENTIVE) that are here to "help" us validate (we can't leave the Iceberg until we're validated as a qualified unit). Now, in the civilian world, these people would be subject matter experts. Full of knowledge, understanding and, perish the thought, help. In the Army world, our "helpers" have neither technical nor tactical expertise (see JACK-SHIT) in our field. At one time, they (the officers in
charge) were Chemical Soldiers, but they now do things like Artillery and Supply (see NON-QUALIFIED). Would you like an example? Sure, I can do that. One of our missions is to generate smoke on the battlefield. No big deal, we're trained for it, as all Chemical Soldiers are, but on the first day our "helpers" arrived here, they asked the question, "What do you need to perform your mission?" Considering that all our equipment is on a railroad car, the answer seemed fairly obvious. "No, no, no, we can get you smoke generators (see EQUIPMENT PREVIOUSLY LOADED ON RAILROAD CARS!), what else do you need for that mission?" Being a good (see SQUARED AWAY) Chemical Soldier, I rattled off a list of requirements for smoke, fuel type, consumption, fog oil, etc. I said it all fairly quickly, and a bit flippantly, but they began to scribble away furiously. They, the "helpers," didn't even bother to learn about our mission requirements before coming here to "help." For all of you lucky (and warm) civilians, this may seem a bit outrageous. Unqualified personnel overseeing the training and validation of a deployed unit? Yep, it's actually quite typical.

No worries, says our hero (Yours Truly), we'll just show them how we do our job, and everything will be cool. Um, no. You see, these unqualified soldiers (the officers I mean, the enlisted members of the Validation Team are squared away, and I'd like to take most of them with us, and no, I still can't say where we're going) are reading the Army Training requirements. Seems like a good idea, since we're supposed to train the way we fight, however, they are being a bit too professional (see ANAL) in their jobs. I believe in realistic training, hard training and fair training. But these guys are going overboard.

We have no equipment, as I've previously stated. But they've found us some. It's all in good shape, barely used in fact. But only enough for one platoon to use at a time (oh, and I should note that they are standing in the room with me, RIGHT NOW!). So, we're stuck simulating everything until it's our turn for the mission. Can anyone else here see a SMALL problem with this equation? Me too. I've been training my soldiers in the classroom and on the parade field (it's the only place big enough to practice walking around saying, "I'm a HUMVEE, I'm a HUMVEE"). My soldiers are ready to work with their equipment, for the past 3 days, and there isn't any to work with. So, they're bored, and VERY tired of walking around saying, "I'm a HUMVEE, I'm a HUMVEE."

The worst part is the variables they are throwing out. It's almost retarded. "What if ALL your leaders are taken out?" Duh, we throw a party. "What happens if you equipment breaks down?" Umm, call AAA? These talking monkeys are just being stupid to see if we know how to react, and we have proven it, for 3 days running! But they just keep on pushing. And I'm beginning to feel like the coyote that's hanging in midair, looking down and then back up at the camera, holding up a sign saying, "You've got to be kidding me."

Oh, and did I mention the fact that we're simulating almost EVERYTHING. We can't pump water, since we're on an Iceberg and the pumps will freeze. We're simulating the Decontaminating Solution, because it's HIGHLY caustic, and Toxic to Humans not in the proper gear (ok, this isn't a new simulation, but the fact that we are simulating the mops used to apply it to tanks is an entirely different thing, NO MOPS!) But the one thing that we are NOT simulating is time. It's 15 degrees outside, but my people are out there, NOT simulating the 30 minute wait time for the solution to work. Oh, not, lets not skip out on the wait time, that would be TOO much! Forget about the mops, but we need the 30 minute wait time to ensure FROSTBITE! I have smoked 134 cigarettes (in 3 days) trying to maintain my military bearing, and they're beginning to let me down.

I think I might've picked a bad week to stop sniffing glue. Fuck.

Love,
Will

PS I'd like to send out another Thank You to all those sending Snail Mail. You know who you are, I do appreciate it very much.

Hello All,

It's another cold and cloudy day here in Ft. Mc Coy, and things are progressing. The good news is that with all of our equipment gone (see RAILHEAD, that wonderful 48 hours of stress, cigarettes and foul language). Oh, and on a side note, I have received a bit of constructive criticism on my language. I may, on occasion spice things up with a fuck, shit piss or cocksucker, but please don't let this offend. Soldiers, generally use profanity as a tool, either to feel manly and tough (for the younger
soldiers) and as a tool to let those that have sinned (see Fucked-Up) know that we have seen them do it. However, I will try to keep things to a manageable tone.

This week is one of a Canine-Equestrian Extravaganza (see Dog and Pony Show). As I said, all our equipment is gone, however, we still need to train for our missions. Without equipment, this process involves 2 soldiers standing shoulder-to-shoulder, outside (see Oh-My-God COLD or General Winter), simulating (see PRETENDING) that they are in a Humvee. Of course there are other soldiers simulating other vehicles, and we walk around like we're on a mission (simulated, of course). Now if this sounds exciting (and if it doesn't, you're probably smarter that the average Lt. Colonel)wait to hear what happens next. We go in from the simulated exercise, talk about what went right, wrong and just plain stupid, and then do it all over again. Yep. Again. Yippee. Now, I'm a veteran and I understand the purpose of training (believe me, by the time we get to where we're going, it will be WAY too late for training), but this is more like busy work. There have been some good things from it (besides frostbite), the younger soldiers are beginning to take this deployment a bit more seriously (about friggin time! I swear, I buy them books and all they do is chew on the covers!). But, for the most part, we're just killing time.

Now, I'll bet that you're curious about the "Good Game" portion of this message. Well, soldiers are a different kind of animal. Male or female, we're all just a little off (not crazy, because nobody would let someone mentally deficient into the Army, OH NO!). And when you take people like these, add a stressful situation (War has not been declared, but I think we all know what's about to happen) and they are going to look for a release. That's where the "Good Game" comes in. After ANY sporting event (in the US that is) all the athletes line up to shake hands, slap each other on the butt and say, "Good Game." Well, it picked up here, and wouldn't you know it, EVERYBODY is slapping EVERYBODY on the ass and saying, "Good Game." To the outsider, looking in, I admit that it may appear odd. All these testosterone charged soldiers walking around and slapping each others butts (I kind of like it when the females slap mine, or, even better, another females!!!!). But, it kind of makes sense. I know of no gay soldiers in my unit (and I really don't care, but that's something else entirely), but this "Good Game" thing has taken on a life of it's own. People are actually going out of their way to slap the asses of members of the same sex. I see no sexual intent, and have none for myself (outside of the females, of course) but some people are actual targets for this. Example, Our Hero (Yours Truly) has established a
rule: NO SQUEEZING OR PINCHING OF THE BUTTOCKS (unless by a female, of course). For any soldier that violates this rule, I IMMEDIATLY swat them on their crotches. I don't grab, and I don't hit, but immediate retribution is paid. Unfair you might ask? Over the top you might say? Yes, on both cases. But I don't like the squeeze/pinch, and they don't like getting racked. Corrective action taken, and improper technique is corrected (a little George Patton, if you will). A bit homophobic? Maybe, but I really just don't like Men squeezing or pinching by ass.

Oh, and someone has dedicated a website to these emails. You can find it at http://rooba.net/will/ The creators are friends of Captain Rooba, and you can locate him at www.rooba.net. The Captain and I have been friends for a while now, and I can't wait to drink Guinness with him again.

Well, I'd better get going, somebody's looking at my butt, and I don't think that this one's going to be simulated.

Love,

Will

Hello All,

Well, it seems that Mr. Sun's out of ammo and the General has returned with a vengeance, 8 Degrees and 20 mph winds (suntan lotion anyone?). With this situation, I think it's time to let you all know what our snivel gear (see EXTREME COLD WEATHER) consists of.

Let me begin with a note on uniformity. The Army is HUGE on uniformity. Everyone and everything needs to be dress right dress (exactly the same for you lucky, and warm, civilians). Each soldiers uniform needs to look the same as every other soldier. Rank in the same place, beret (see PASTRY HAT) worn the same, etc. If you're not uniformed, you are WRONG. And if you're in the wrong uniform, and everybody is uniformed, you are RIGHT (if you're confused by this, you're probably not alone).

That being said, let me begin on the snivel gear. We were all issued a cold weather parka, liner, brown scarf, mittens with the extra special trigger finger option and Mickey Mouse boots. Now, the cold weather parkas we received (1 each) came in both OD (olive drab, especially fashionable in the
winter) and woodland camouflage (also great in the snow). They are longer than our field jackets, and in true Army fashion, at least one size too big for each soldier (normally I wear a size medium in the Army world, I was issued an LARGE) so it hangs down to around my knees (I feel SO sexy, I touch myself). It worked fairly well, with the liner inserted, but I looked like the little kid in the movie, A Christmas Story. The scarf is a wonder. It's hollow and you can take one end, roll it back and use it as a hat/scarf under your helmet (helmets are only warm when you don't want them to be, i.e. Summer. In the winter, they're as cold as a well-diggers ass) and wrap it around your mouth and nose so you're not breathing cold air all the time. The only problem is when our Hero gets a runny nose, and it runs into the scarf around his face, and a booger-sickle forms on the scarf (gross, but would any of you come up with the booger-sickle idea?). The mittens with the trigger finger rocked, especially on the range. It didn't effect my trigger squeeze, rhythm or shot placement (of course I am a good shot, I like rifles, always have, always will). But the coolest thing we were issued were the Mickey Mouse (M&M) boots. In case you don't remember, Mickey Mouse had HUGE white feet. Well, these boots are huge (and also issued a size too big, surprised? I wasn't) and made of rubber. All the way around. They are SO warm, that my feet were sweating all day long, and I had to change out my socks (see STINKY) daily. The only time they failed me, was on the range, at night, when the temperature dropped to below zero, and my socks were drenched with sweat (see TRENCHFOOT). But as soon as I changed out my socks and dried out the inside of my M&M boots, everything was groovy. My only complaint was walking/running/any general movement in my M&M boots. They are about 4 pounds apiece, and already bigger than the regular combat boot (I got a good workout walking up and down the range). If you can't picture what I look like in all this gear, please be patient. I'll try to get some pictures before I leave this wonderful Iceberg.

Still no information that I can give you on the details of my pending mission, sorry. Normally I'm blabby (and I think you ALL know that), but this one I'm gonna sit on, for a while.

I need to get moving, I'm teaching a class this afternoon and need to walk through it one more time.

Love,

Will

Hello All,

I know that you're all DYING to know how our rail load mission came off, especially since General Winter had occupied our AO (Area of Occupation), but first I want to send a Thank You to everyone that has sent letters and cards and cigarettes (HOOAH!). In these times of e-communications, a piece of paper with a hand written note is a VERY nice form of correspondence. Oh, and there is still a (see ONE) computer here that I, and the rest of the company, can use to send email.

Back to the news from the front of the rear...

Well, as I told you in my last email, General Winter has occupied Ft. Mc Coy. This is a typical move by his CO, Mother Nature (there's an old saying in the Army, "If it ain't rainin', we ain't training!"). The temperature each morning was single digits, and things looked bleak. However, Mr. Sun rode in like the Air Calvary, and beat the General back with direct fire. The temp reached a balmy 28 degrees (not bad considering) and we were able to get a lot of work done during the daylight hours. However, it's important to remember that Mr. Sun is a UNION employee (just like the Dutch Army), and retired from the field around 1720 (5:20 for you lucky, and warm, civilians). With his departure, the General attacked in full force, and hampered our activities with a light (15 mph) wind and dropping temperatures (8 degrees). Being soldiers, we tucked in our snivel gear, set our jaws and continued on with the mission. We left the rail cars at 2300, and returned the next morning for the blessing (a RAILROAD inspector has to check our work, and if he doesn't BLESS our work, we do it again, yep, LOADS OF FUN). It only took a couple hours and the blessing was given, and a communion (using Jack Daniels instead of wine) began inside the platoon. I believe that we've all earned that touch of whiskey, and for those that don't drink (or don't like Jack) I took their portion (what a nice guy I am, always look out or your soldiers).

Well, you're probably thinking, "what is he doing now that ALL the equipment gone?" Is he bored, sitting around picking his nose and wondering what's going to happen next? HA HA! NO! The green WEENIE (see ARMY) always has another mission. Now we have to prove to the powers that be (I still have no idea who those bastards are, and I don't like them very much, see HATE) have decided that we need to do a full crawl, walk, run of all our mission tasks.

What is a crawl, walk, run of mission tasks? It's when you baby-step through your Army mission (see CHEMICAL WARFARE) to develop team cohesion, mission knowledge and efficiency. Not a bad plan you might say, if you want to be good at something, you have to practice my parents used to tell me. And I agree. I really do. However, their methods (the powers that be) are unsound. We have been training for this mission for years (12 1/2 for our
Hero) and would like the opportunity to test out ahead of the curve, because we've only been tested on these same missions for YEARS! and I believe that we're way beyond the crawl phase. Oh, and did I mention that I have to be validated as an instructor, even though I've been teaching soldiers for 10, that's TEN, years. Now I believe in being thorough, I REALLY DO, but why didn't they make me validate before? What is the point of all the training we've been doing? But, we're soldiers, and soldiers do what they're told to do. So, I'll just give up on my rant.

Oh, looks like the next guy needs to send an email to his girlfriend, I just hope that his wife doesn't find out!

Stay tuned to hear about what SNIVEL gear consists of, especially the Mickey Mouse boots.

Love,

Will