HA! HA. ha. hrm.
So..
On Tuesday night my platoon sergeant told me my promotion orders had finally come through. We were out in the field. I'd brought some rum. We celebrated. On Wednesday night, the platoon leader sent the four of us a fifth of Kentucky bourbon, to commemorate the super-rare promotion of one of my kind. On Thursday, after we got back, I found out it was all a mistake. The paperworkers had dropped it again. Also, no word on my volunteer service medal, which was submitted in June.
Now they tell me that they'll fix it, and then they gave me some meds to prevent Malaria, since we got eaten alive by Korean mosquitoes in the field. That's two fatal diseases I'm now taking daily prophylactic meds for. Thanks, Korea. I love you, too.
The kid who mangles the promotion and awards paperwork won the post boxing championship last year for his weight class. I'm guessing I can't take him.
So I only got one medal and a bottle of pills today, instead of two medals and a promotion.
Bittersweet.
On Tuesday night my platoon sergeant told me my promotion orders had finally come through. We were out in the field. I'd brought some rum. We celebrated. On Wednesday night, the platoon leader sent the four of us a fifth of Kentucky bourbon, to commemorate the super-rare promotion of one of my kind. On Thursday, after we got back, I found out it was all a mistake. The paperworkers had dropped it again. Also, no word on my volunteer service medal, which was submitted in June.
Now they tell me that they'll fix it, and then they gave me some meds to prevent Malaria, since we got eaten alive by Korean mosquitoes in the field. That's two fatal diseases I'm now taking daily prophylactic meds for. Thanks, Korea. I love you, too.
The kid who mangles the promotion and awards paperwork won the post boxing championship last year for his weight class. I'm guessing I can't take him.
So I only got one medal and a bottle of pills today, instead of two medals and a promotion.
Bittersweet.