(no subject)
Uh oh. Its been only two days and already it has begun. For those of you with prior military experience, I am sure you can really relate to this entry, as I am also sure you have gone through this, one way or another. For those that haven't; chill out, take a seat and be prepared to be learned on the etiquette of being in the field.
When our country is not at war, or when you're stationed in the states, there's always that dreaded FTX [Field training exercise] once/twice/three-times a year that every soldier can't wait to get over with. It's one of those inevitable event/situation you must deal with, whether you want to or not. It's like the talk after calling out the wrong name while your having sex with your girl/guy/animal/doll. You know its coming, you know you can't squirm your way out of this one, you know its going to just suck, but its one of those things that must be done. Well, when we go to the field, the time is usually alloted for some high-speed, low drag, war-fighting, kick-assing, soldier-loving, training, but usually only ends up a murmur of what it was intended to actually do. What sucks about the field is that everything you hate doing, you're probably going to do. Picture long days filled with intense physical activities, coupled with sleepless nights on patrol, or mount guard. Picture smelly, dirty, greasy guys filling sandbags in the middle of summer, sweating from every possible pore in their bodies. Picture 20 guys, with all of their equipments, living in a tent the size of a small apartment living room. Imagine the personality clashes, the attitudes erupting, the funk progressing, and the mind-games that will surely drive a sane person crazy. Now times that by about ten and I think you have a slight idea of what the field really is like.
In my old unit, when we used to go to the field, it would be open season on anyone and anything. The trash talking begins on the ride up to the site. The weakest link always ends up crying before the FTX is over. That was one of our goals. Kind of childish, but it passed the time. If you are not mentally prepared, or if you are a little on the sensitive side, the field is not where you want to be. Soldiers are like Great whites, all searching for something to munch on, and when the food runs out, the Alfa males start eating up the weaker sharks. Pussies get hurt, butts get real hurt, friendships get hurt, basically everything is hurt in the process, but man on man, is it fuckin' fun. It's always a riot. If you like reality tv, this is as real as it gets.
Iraq, however, is one big ass FTX. Sure most of the major bases have amenities that would rival the nicest hotels over here, but it doesn't change the fact that FTX rules remain intact. We were living in trailers, but since we've moved to Camp [What is another name for a soccer forward], things have gotten a little bit more interesting. You see, when we were at the other camp, if your pussy was hurtin from the teasing, you could always hide out in your trailer, since it was only shared by you and another soldier, but over here, everyone lives in the same fucken tent. No where to run, no where to hide. I've never actually understood why I love being in the field so much, I mean, when you are going through it, you just hate the world and everything in it. It's grueling and painful. It's tiring and dreadful, but once you figure out the moves of this game [Because being successful in the Army and everything it stands for is just like playing a strategic game of chess] you start to enjoy it. Like any game, when you're a Noob, its never fun, but once you get the hang of it, things start to fall your way. I learned the game real fast. I had to. Being the minority of the minorities, I was a walking target, so I learned to become the arrow. I mean, I am not the match, I guess I just fuel the fire. If you don't find a role, you will surely get burned. I rather not be the one crying at the end of the day.
Just like highschool, there are cliques and tight-knit groups. You always seem to fall into one or another.
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TO BE CONTINUED. RAN OUT OF TIME. Bah!
When our country is not at war, or when you're stationed in the states, there's always that dreaded FTX [Field training exercise] once/twice/three-times a year that every soldier can't wait to get over with. It's one of those inevitable event/situation you must deal with, whether you want to or not. It's like the talk after calling out the wrong name while your having sex with your girl/guy/animal/doll. You know its coming, you know you can't squirm your way out of this one, you know its going to just suck, but its one of those things that must be done. Well, when we go to the field, the time is usually alloted for some high-speed, low drag, war-fighting, kick-assing, soldier-loving, training, but usually only ends up a murmur of what it was intended to actually do. What sucks about the field is that everything you hate doing, you're probably going to do. Picture long days filled with intense physical activities, coupled with sleepless nights on patrol, or mount guard. Picture smelly, dirty, greasy guys filling sandbags in the middle of summer, sweating from every possible pore in their bodies. Picture 20 guys, with all of their equipments, living in a tent the size of a small apartment living room. Imagine the personality clashes, the attitudes erupting, the funk progressing, and the mind-games that will surely drive a sane person crazy. Now times that by about ten and I think you have a slight idea of what the field really is like.
In my old unit, when we used to go to the field, it would be open season on anyone and anything. The trash talking begins on the ride up to the site. The weakest link always ends up crying before the FTX is over. That was one of our goals. Kind of childish, but it passed the time. If you are not mentally prepared, or if you are a little on the sensitive side, the field is not where you want to be. Soldiers are like Great whites, all searching for something to munch on, and when the food runs out, the Alfa males start eating up the weaker sharks. Pussies get hurt, butts get real hurt, friendships get hurt, basically everything is hurt in the process, but man on man, is it fuckin' fun. It's always a riot. If you like reality tv, this is as real as it gets.
Iraq, however, is one big ass FTX. Sure most of the major bases have amenities that would rival the nicest hotels over here, but it doesn't change the fact that FTX rules remain intact. We were living in trailers, but since we've moved to Camp [What is another name for a soccer forward], things have gotten a little bit more interesting. You see, when we were at the other camp, if your pussy was hurtin from the teasing, you could always hide out in your trailer, since it was only shared by you and another soldier, but over here, everyone lives in the same fucken tent. No where to run, no where to hide. I've never actually understood why I love being in the field so much, I mean, when you are going through it, you just hate the world and everything in it. It's grueling and painful. It's tiring and dreadful, but once you figure out the moves of this game [Because being successful in the Army and everything it stands for is just like playing a strategic game of chess] you start to enjoy it. Like any game, when you're a Noob, its never fun, but once you get the hang of it, things start to fall your way. I learned the game real fast. I had to. Being the minority of the minorities, I was a walking target, so I learned to become the arrow. I mean, I am not the match, I guess I just fuel the fire. If you don't find a role, you will surely get burned. I rather not be the one crying at the end of the day.
Just like highschool, there are cliques and tight-knit groups. You always seem to fall into one or another.
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TO BE CONTINUED. RAN OUT OF TIME. Bah!