When the Smoke Clears

I believe it was Nietzche who once said, “Weekends were made for Michelobe.”

Well, he was wrong, at least in my case.

Weekends have been made for being in the field or at drill or drilling in the field. (oh, and by the way, the site was hacked and had a few other issues, part of the reason for delay in posting.)

Consider it official, my next weekend off will be late March at the earliest. These last few weeks I have seen endurance, I have seen inspiring leadership and I have seen massive failures in leadership. All three of these can be applied to both my civilian and my military life, but will only talk about the military right now. I have had to deal with an Army medical unit that needs (in my opinion) to have its leadership shaken up, and with a staff of medics who were ill-equipped to keep up with my expectations and myself in the field.

When not being hazed at the Officer Candidate School prep program my state conducts, I have been out with the young ones on field training. Most recently my friends/officers have enjoyed having me around, and even though I am a volunteer on these missions, I now have rank and position, even though it is enlisted. They could now decide that in the field I was over their team of support medics.

I liked the ones assigned to me. I disliked that they were thrown out in the field without the equipment they needed and very little in the way of explanation of what we were up to. I did my best and two of the more motivated PFCs set out on foot to visit all the stations in the training area alongside me, even though I carried all my gear and they just carried water bottles. They were eager to learn as I evaluated one soldier’s eyes. I liked that. I also realized I would rather they learn some of these basic skills in their unit.

Unfortunately their whole operation was under the scrutiny of my cadre who have very high expectations. In the field for 80 soldiers we had 2 colonels, 3 majors, 2 captains, 2 first sergeants and 2 sergeant majors. The first and last are the greatest sources of stress for the unknowing, and they were frustrated with what they perceived. I indicated it wasn’t the team’s fault in the least. “I guess I’ve gotten used to a certain level of competence with you around,” one sergeant major said to me, “so I’ve got to remember that medics can’t all be you.” I was floored by the compliment but still supported the team I was given, even if they didn’t have equipment.

But a few more days into the week and I was still in the field, headed back to some barracks where there was a shower and I could change into a clean uniform. It was time to report for the Boards. OCS is looming soon. Sooner than I thought.

On drill weekends we potential OCS folks have been separated from our units for a full weekend of… vigorous training and attention. From nearly 100 applicants, we have been whittled down for various reasons: physical, psychological, security, endurance, attitude, determination, etc.

And then the Board.

Only 9 remain. I am one of the nine, and according to the colonel that headed up the board, he intends to see me in an officer position as soon as he can.

And there is no time.

We leave in January for OCS… an accelerated OCS program. I’m nervous. The rest of my classmates/survivors have plenty of prior military experience. I’m going in fresh. There will be so much to learn in such a short amount of time and I will need to know and practice most, if not all of it, with even less time to get ready for the next stage. I have an idea of what it is but can’t talk about it just yet.

January.

Get the house set up, my personal items packed away, arrange for house sitting and all those other details. And whereas Basic was designed to get you through, OCS is designed to weed you out. Already with our local attrition at over 90%, who knows what’s going to happen.

January.

I have my packing list. There are a lot of items to acquire and I am dependent on a bevy of supply sergeants for what I need or else I will have to make over a thousand dollars worth of purchases.

January.

And speaking of the packing list, one item in particular has me curious:

Athletic supporter with protective cup

What in the hell are they going to do to us that we need a protective cup?

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