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| Ha. Once again I forgot this thing even existed until my good friend sent me a text about how she found a post from this blog in her email inbox. Must have been an old email because the last time I touched this shit was just before my commissioning, and that was almost a year ago. Anyways, more to entertain myself than anyone else, an update:
WORK: It's kind of hard to make a distinction between "work" and the rest of your "life" when you're in the military. It's one of the few professions that truly owns you, 24/7, regardless of almost any circumstances. I am Uncle Sam's bitch. But every so often I get to play with cool toys, so I guess I can live with it for another two years. Finished Officer Candidate School and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant, United States Army, Infantry, on 10 July 2008. Then went on leave up north to Boston and Martha's Vineyard, which was an amazing break from digital camouflage and push-ups. I aspire to own a summer home in Edgartown one day and surround myself with cute and petite little brunettes in pastel polo shirts and tennis skirts.
Came back for BOLC II (Basic Officer Leadership Course or Leader's Course or some fucking shit like that), which was a complete and utter waste of both my time and tax payer money. Maybe if I was JAG, or a direct-commission medic, it would have been worth something to pretend to be a grunt for seven weeks. But I am not. I did Basic on Sand Hill, with good, hardcore Drill Sergeants that cussed, yelled, and smoked the living shit out of me 24/7 for almost 11 weeks straight. The Marine Corps mine still have the toughest boot camps in the USA, but Sand Hill was no cake walk, and I'm proud to have suffered through there. So BOLC II was just fucking insulting. I here they're potentially scrapping the whole program. Good riddance.
Sadly, my BOLC III, or IBOLC (the "i" stands for Infantry), was also disappointing. The first company I was in, C Co, was squared-away and I legitimately enjoyed the training and the curriculum. There was very little bullshit, very little time wasted, and it felt good. Sadly, I then damn near broke my Achilles tendon, and had to med drop out of C Co. Hung around like a bum, did the Mechanized Leaders Course, which was a joke and pretty much an excuse to take the M2A2 Bradly Infantry Fighting Vehicle to a range and blow shit up with the 25mm cannon. Eventually went back into IBOLC with A Co, which was the complete opposite of C Co. Disorganized and asinine, A Co took what should have been a fun, in not at least relevant, course, and made it fucking terrible. Seriously. Though to be fair, IBOLC, like every Army school I've been to, is under-funded and under-staffed now that the Army is in a state of war. It's neither a hardcore doctrine and theory class where you study famous battles and learn about the great generals and real leadership of war nor is it a no bullshit tactics course where you learn to properly kick down doors and spend 12-hours a day shooting the M4 until you're firing controlled pairs in your goddamn dreams. It it ends of being half of both, and half-assed. Disappointing.
Then it was off to Airborne School, which is, well, an Army school. It's big, it's stupid, and it's meant for privates, so being an officer in a school meant for privates, you chafe at being treated like you've got the IQ of an fucking water buffalo. Still, jumping the towers was a shitload of fun, and jumping out the door of a C-130 moving at 150-mph was a fucking kick in the pants unlike any other. Unfortunately, I did pretty much the exact opposite of what I was supposed to do on my landing, so I ate shit into the ground and fucked up my right ankle in the process. So now I am once again sitting around killing time until it's strong enough for me to finish my jumps in two weeks. Of course, after this, I'm supposed to go right into Ranger School, which I seriously don't think is going to happen. Not that I'm not willing to go be starved and survive on an hour of sleep a night for ten weeks (who wouldn't want to do that?), but I just don't think my shit's strong enough to get me in right now. So we'll see.
After that, it's off to join 2BCT (Brigade Combat Team) with the 1st Armored Division over in heartland of Bavaria, Germany. Now THAT, I'm looking forward to.
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| It's amazing the changes six months can bring. In 18 days, I will be a second lieutenant in the United States Army. I've lost almost 30 pounds in body weight (and I certainly wasn't fat to begin with), hardened my feet with an endless onslaught of timed runs and foot marches, learned land navigation, the basics of squad infantry tactics, and most importantly, to shoot straight and true. Now that I've been branched Infantry, upon graduation from Officer Candidate School I'll be attending the Infantry Officer Basic Course to further refine my skill in tactics and maneuver and learn what it takes to lead a platoon into combat. Then it'll be time to take to the sky and earn my wings with the Airborne and Air Assault schools before I finally push my body to its breaking point at Ranger School a year from now. When all of this is said and done, I will finally report to a unit after nearly 2 years in training.
From faded jeans to a butter bar in Army greens in six months. Hooah. | | |
| I don't really post on this anymore, partly because I don't really post and partly because I have another blog that I use when I want to (driventodrive.blogspot.com), though I tend to focus on all things automotive with that.
I guess I just wanted to post some of the madness that's been my life recently. I finally graduated a semester late with my BA in Political Science, my father finally made Ambassador (he's currently there with my mother and a pair of African tortoises that they've adopted), I recently ended my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend of two years, and am currently trying to decide which branch of the armed forces I am going to enter as an Officer.
Regarding the military, I've given up trying to explain to people why I'm doing it. Like joining my fraternity, it's either something you understand and respect, or it doesn't make sense at all. You can't explain it to those who haven't experienced it. I don't want to compare pledging a frat to finding religion, but the feeling is somewhat similar in that if it strikes a chord with you, it's a strong one. It gives you a true sense of belonging and purpose. I view the military in the same light. It is service. It is not the safest path. But right now, it's what I need. I've enjoyed private schooling for the majority of my life, and just finished four and a half years of partying like a rockstar with the wealthiest, most beautiful college kids in America. That kind of lifestyle, the luxury, the drugs, the sex, is claustrophobic to put it mildly, and can be dangerous when taken to the extreme. Right now, while I'm young, I want to cut away at the fat, at the softness. I want to sell and throw everything I own into storage, and disappear for a year. Sure I could backpack around Europe, or go be a beach bum in Australia, but I come from a family with a proud history of government and civil service, and I do feel an obligation to continue, even if it's only for a few years. I want to escape but not to just be a meandering bum. I want to better myself, push myself, and emerge from the gauntlet stronger, faster, and smarter. At her prime, Sparta had the "agoge" (also spelled "agogi" and "agogae" depending on where you look), a rite of passage Spartan men had to overcome in order to be called a Spartan, in order to be called a citizen. Those who failed became helots, the labor class, unable to vote. This is my agoge.
The question remains which branch. Currently, I'm midway through the process of Army Officer Candidate Selection, which is basically a fancy way of saying a shit-ton of paperwork. I'm partial to the Army, simply because while I view the Marines as modern day Spartans, my own misconceptions regarding the Marine Corps leads to me feel I am probably too much of a thinker for that branch. Yet the Army retains a lot of the same hardness, the same tenacity. Either way, I see myself ending up in some aspect of Special Operations, be it an intelligence or tactical position. This is why I am still mulling over the idea of the Navy, as while I don't particularly want to serve on a ship or submarine as a Naval Officer, once an Officer I can immediately try out for Navy SEAL selection. In contrast, the Army requires that its Officer reach the rank of Captain before they are allowed to apply for Special Forces (Green Beret) selection. However, part of me feels that I might be deluding myself to think that I could make it through SEAL selection at the present, so I think the more prudent course would be to go Army, get through Basic, Officer Candidate School, get into Intel, learn the ropes, and then if I still have the drive go for Special Forces selection.
I'm sure the few people who read this are probably wondering about the girlfriend thing. The truth is, she is a beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman, and I love her dearly. But also the truth is the fact that this process, this agoge, is something that I need to do on my own, by myself, with no thoughts or connections to linger in my mind or distract me. And that's why after two years I've ended our relationship, a decision that was excruciating to reach, and even more so to do. Only God knows, but hopefully time will make it the right one or bring us back together when I emerge from this.
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| Wow, forgot this thing even existed.
Damn
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| THE STATE OF THE MENTAL UNION
I am through living my life to the rules of other people. I love everyone who is or has been an important part of my life dearly. But I am so tired of hearing everything I should do, should be, or should care about. Don't tell me what to do. I will do what I have to do to get through, be it bartending, studying for my finals, or paying my $300 speeding tickets. But once that is aside, don't you dare tell me anything more. "I don't care if my liver is hangin' by a thread. Don't care if my doctor says I ought to be dead." I'm going to get out of work, out of class, out of anywhere, and bust open a beer. I'm going to get drunk as all hell in the VIP at Dragon Room, or on the top floor at Latitudes under the beautiful Florida sky with a blonde on one arm and a brunette on the other, Bombay Sapphire and tonic in hand. I'm going to wake up every morning, late for work or class maybe, hungover probably. But I'm going to look back on my night and say, "Goddamn, I had fun." And because of that, it'll be worth it. No regrets. Why the fuck not have fun all the time? You can sit back and bitch. You can whine and moan. You can complain about what you don't have, and wish for more of what little you do. But what is the fucking point of that? We are only here once. Forget an afterlife, forget reincarnation... you are HERE, right now, and it's your only chance at this life that ends all too quickly. So why care what other people think? Why cry when you fall down and scrape your knees? None of it matters. Get the fuck back up, punch whoever pushed you right in the face, and get on with life. Live for now. Live at the limits. Do something stupid. Get in trouble. Get drunk. Do some drugs. What's the point of living life if at the end of it you are just going to look back at all the things you DIDN'T do and say, "What if?" Every moment we have is a bloody gift, yet we waste it worrying about stuff that isn't ours to control. Forget what you see in the news. Forget what you hear on the radio. Think about yourself, what you CAN do, what you WANT to do. At the end of the day, nothing else really matters, does it? Put in your favorite CD and just turn it up. Drown everything else out; it won't matter tomorrow anyways. There is no tomorrow. Life is like driving: you can either put it in "Drive" and let everything be automatic, caring only about getting from point A to point B. Or you can take charge, drive a manual, heel-and-toe downshift as you enter one of life's turns, and then floor it as you come out. This is my life. I'm going to live it to very limits. | | |
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