Army Goddess News
Got this one yesterday -
We have a log book to keep when serving as Fireguard, that has one sheet filled out as an example of how to record common events like missing soldiers: i.e., PVT Jones in med quarters. It also handles routine missing weapons. The woman coming on after me (she's not even a teenager) said, "Oh, this is messed up, we have no weapons here (they are locked up because we've spending half a day tomorrow handling our reservations for COMING HOME), what are we supposed to say?" Some of the Drill Sergeants always remind soldiers of "situational awareness" - look around you at all times, and see what the hell is going on. I don't think our educational system is doing a good job of teaching our children how to notice the world around them.
We're sitting in the barracks, pretty wet, waiting for buses to come take us to the travel agency to get tickets for Christmas break, AKA Block Leave, AKA Exodus. I'm so excited that Don is coming ot get me.
(We've bussed to the ticket agency now.)
I'm in a better place than I was the last time I wrote to you. There are still assholes, and there's still not a damn thing I can do about them. The training is interesting now, though, so it's not like I have to spend all day sitting or standing in line listening to idiots and being frustrated. My most severe frustrations now are different altogether. Of course, there's the obvious. ;) There's also the frustration of not being fast enough, not being strong enough - I want to master it ALL already. I do feel like I get a little bit better everyday, one baby step at a time. I'm getting the hang of the rapid pace. We can't change in our bay because the drill sergeants come through all the time - their office is on our side. We can't take our weapons into the latrine/shower area, so we have to change in shifts - one "battle buddy" babysits weapons while others change. I'm almost used to everything I need to get dressed; but if I start changing and realize I forgot a t-shirt, I have to get dressed again and go get it. I can't run out in ACU bottoms and a PT top, because that's "out of uniform." We have to keep out boots and shoes on top of our wall lockers, neatly laced and tied, which means that we have to retie them after they come off, and untie and loosen them before we can put them back on. It seems to take me for-freakin-ever to get my damn boots on with trousers tucked. I'm lucky, though - my boots are a perfect fit, and I haven't had the first blister. Yet. I'm sure there will be some after the long marches. I'm covered in bruises from crawling in the dirt yesterday, and it was soft and sandy. Go figure. I think I finally got all the dirt out of my teeth.
We have a log book to keep when serving as Fireguard, that has one sheet filled out as an example of how to record common events like missing soldiers: i.e., PVT Jones in med quarters. It also handles routine missing weapons. The woman coming on after me (she's not even a teenager) said, "Oh, this is messed up, we have no weapons here (they are locked up because we've spending half a day tomorrow handling our reservations for COMING HOME), what are we supposed to say?" Some of the Drill Sergeants always remind soldiers of "situational awareness" - look around you at all times, and see what the hell is going on. I don't think our educational system is doing a good job of teaching our children how to notice the world around them.
We're sitting in the barracks, pretty wet, waiting for buses to come take us to the travel agency to get tickets for Christmas break, AKA Block Leave, AKA Exodus. I'm so excited that Don is coming ot get me.
(We've bussed to the ticket agency now.)
I'm in a better place than I was the last time I wrote to you. There are still assholes, and there's still not a damn thing I can do about them. The training is interesting now, though, so it's not like I have to spend all day sitting or standing in line listening to idiots and being frustrated. My most severe frustrations now are different altogether. Of course, there's the obvious. ;) There's also the frustration of not being fast enough, not being strong enough - I want to master it ALL already. I do feel like I get a little bit better everyday, one baby step at a time. I'm getting the hang of the rapid pace. We can't change in our bay because the drill sergeants come through all the time - their office is on our side. We can't take our weapons into the latrine/shower area, so we have to change in shifts - one "battle buddy" babysits weapons while others change. I'm almost used to everything I need to get dressed; but if I start changing and realize I forgot a t-shirt, I have to get dressed again and go get it. I can't run out in ACU bottoms and a PT top, because that's "out of uniform." We have to keep out boots and shoes on top of our wall lockers, neatly laced and tied, which means that we have to retie them after they come off, and untie and loosen them before we can put them back on. It seems to take me for-freakin-ever to get my damn boots on with trousers tucked. I'm lucky, though - my boots are a perfect fit, and I haven't had the first blister. Yet. I'm sure there will be some after the long marches. I'm covered in bruises from crawling in the dirt yesterday, and it was soft and sandy. Go figure. I think I finally got all the dirt out of my teeth.
posted by KellyKline | 11/29/2006 09:28:00 PM
1 Comments:
You know, I'm starting to think that the Army has it all wrong by preferring younger kids with no life experience.
Do us middle-aged chicks rock, or what?!
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