Alright, last night was Al Del Mar and Dane Cook and some other guy. They were outstanding. Not just Dane Cook, although he was absolutely fantastic!! They were all good. Last set of comedians we had were lame. Not partially, but all the way. These guys packed the house and then some! Dane Cook was just...wow! It was a great show.
So yeah, the show rocked.
The group I sat with is a loose collection of folks who all live in the cans around mine. We hang out and chat in the evenings, maybe go work out (randomly), sometimes play cards, drink near beer, etc. It passes the time and we enjoy it. I don't do it nightly, but often enough to not be a stranger. All of us work with my unit somehow. We got to talking tonight about how much the 3ACR folks hate the National Guard. It all kind of started when one of our NCOs walked a female soldier back to her can (a friend of hers is attached to our unit and so she comes over to hang with us, as we're infinitely more fun than the cav). Anyhow, her 1SG noticed she got walked back by someone from outside his pack and came unglued. No "thank you for walking my female soldier back and keeping her safe". Anyhow, we got to talking about the bias. In my meditations, it struck me as a manifestation of the need to prove something. Like we or they have to strut and talk badly about the other just to show we have our "street cred". This is kind of anathema to the kind of person I think I am. Most people I deal with on a daily basis here, regardless of unit or component, tend to heed what I tell them. First, I have the advantage of being a Major, and that cannot be ignored. Second, I know I'm smarter than the average bear, and provided I stay in my lane, I sound like I know what I'm talking about. Third, I refuse to kiss ass. Lastly, I'm not here to prove anything. Really, I'm not. The Old Man put it best: be professional, be polite, be prepared to kill. I show up, I'm professional, I'm polite, I stick to the rules and ensure that folks don't walk into the Badging Cell and start doing their own thing. The other advantage I have is I can usually refuse to badge people if folks get too ungodly stupid (it's the ace in the hole). Usually, folks walk out of our offices with a solution and thanking us after walking in with a problem. To me, that speaks volumes. And the Regimental Commander's interpreter went through the exact same badging process that everyone else did. It's rather a great equalizer.
More to the point, I didn't go into this deployment with any sort of great or grand need to come back with a combat action badge. As the Army has grown very tight on the qualification requirements for this award, this requires me INTENTIONALLY placing myself in harm's way, which smacks vaguely of Catch 22. Honestly, I have no intention of leaving the wire without some operational need to do so. My job is not to go out, leave my post, and tool around just so I can brag about...something. My job here is to run the Screening and Badging Cell. And to enable and empower staff coordination. It's a small world, but it's MY small world. We keep dangerous people off the FOB, which seems like a pretty big deal to me. It's not sexy, it's not super dangerous, I don't get to smell the wolf or shoot people up. And I sign my name more on any given day than I ever did getting into the Army. It is, quite literally, the poster child for an almost invisible job. But if nobody did it, things would be pretty messed up. Strangely enough, I kind of like it.
Coming full circle, I have absolutely nothing to prove. Nothing at all. I'm not ashamed of what I do, nor do I think it's unimportant. I have no need to be acknowledged by someone I don't even know as some sort of hero person single handedly conquering the Islamic hordes.
A glass of wine would be nice, though.
It's all about humility, which is, in it's essence, truth. You know what the truth is? The truth is that nobody on this FOB is any better than the other. Nobody has a corner on the market for being God's Gift To The Army. Most folks are here to do their job, do it well and go home in one piece.
For what it's worth.
Enjoy!
2 comments:
hey there mark....thinking of you.
everytime i go to a ballgame and the anthem is played - you are right there in my head. i see you sitting on my couch with kim, sipping some good beer and laughing.
we love you
k
Amen, brother rabbit!
It's competitive bravado that's best kept to high school locker rooms. Each and every component of an organization contributes to its functioning as a whole, but people tend to compartmentalize the larger unit into smaller fiefdoms, which they believe it their duty to defend against infiltration or cross-contamination from other sectors within the same organization, inflating their own egotistical image. It's typical "not seeing the larger picture" and even "upholding mindless tradition."
In a combat theater, you all cover each other's backsides to varying degrees, so as you say, you all come home alive. Certainly harmless jabbing and ribbing takes place, but in the end you all served your country when called upon, fulfilling the duty assigned, which enables the larger objective to be achieved. End of story.
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