The Domino Theory Redux

One of the benefits of being older is having some historical perspective when observing current events.  This definitely is the case for me while I watch the political and social upheaval in the Middle East and Africa. Seeing the long-term autocratic regimes of Egypt and Libya toppling in favor of grass-roots coalitions, supported by the armed forces, I can't help but wonder whether the same thing might have occurred in Iraq, if we hadn't invaded back in '03.  Food for thought, anyway...
I'm also fascinated by the diplomatic strategy my country is employing with the various governments and their respective opposition groups. When I was in elementary school, and read about the Hungarian Revolution in the 1950s, I wondered why President Eisenhower hadn't helped the Hungarians overthrow their Soviet occupiers. Of course I later understood that such a response would very likely have triggered a nuclear war with the USSR, and world history would have been substantially different! (Thanks, Ike!) Now it appears that our government is successfully influencing these regime changes without overt action, though I have absolutely no clue what is going on behind the scenes...assuming that WikiLeaks doesn't broadcast the details in a few months.
The final revelation here has to do with the theory that social networking media such as FaceBook and Twitter largely facilitated the synergy which knocked over the governments in Tunisia, Yemen, Egypt, and perhaps others to follow. I called an old friend this afternoon, who is an adept historian, and we ended up talking about FaceBook. My friend mentioned that he will never join FB, as he sees it to be petty and divisive, especially in his academic work environment. We didn't get a chance to fully-explore the topic, but I wonder if my friend would be so resistant to "embracing the FaceBook" if he thought about using it to  further his own activist leanings...(My friend is a union leader and fights for good, instead of evil, just in case you thought I was buddies with the UnaBomber or some other schmuck like that!)

"Welcome Home, Warrior-Citizen!" "Huh, Who, Me?"

A full 8 months after returning home from our Iraq deployment, our unit was notified to attend the Army Reserve's Welcome Home Warrior-Citizen Ceremony last Friday. It's a nice concept, designed to acknowledge the unique sacrifices we reservists/national guard folks make when going off to war...but it's also supposed to be conducted immediately upon the unit's return home, so as to have meaning. Stuff like timing has never deterred the USAR, naturally, so we found ourselves standing in formation (after 90 minutes of rehearsal!) in the Reserve Center's drill hall/gym, surrounded by soldiers sweating on the exercise machines while looking at us with undisguised amusement. (It's always fun to watch other poor schmucks having to stand in formation!)
Eventually, the Bird Colonel commanding the local Joint Mobilization Brigade showed up with his Command Sergeant Major (CSM) in tow. These were the same two who had chewed us out during our pre-deployment "incarceration" at Fort Lewis for wearing civilian clothing on the weekends after the training day was over. Needless to say this duo wasn't on our list of favorite folks, but at least on this occasion they were convivial enough. After our Ops Officer read a standardized script full of bland verbiage, we filed over to receive a folded flag encased in a triangular wood and glass box...which looked exactly like the cases for displaying casket flags...an eerie resemblance we all remarked on.  We got a silver-colored metal plaque, engraved with our name and rank, and some flowery language about our wartime service, to attach to the front of the flag case. I've still got no idea where I'm gonna put this thing...For now, it remains in the trunk of my car, keeping my golf clubs company.

Read This Book!

And by "This Book", I'm referring to KABOOM: Embracing the Suck in a Savage Little War, by Matthew Gallagher. Not only is the author a gifted writer, he has accurately captured the essence of soldiering in a way so many military authors aspire to, but so few accomplish.  Matt Gallagher served as a front-line combat leader in Iraq during the Surge. His deployment blog of the same title served as his journal, and ultimately the framework of this book.
Although I was not a front-line combat soldier during my own Iraq deployment, I definitely identified with many of Matt's experiences, especially his encounters with dumbass field-grade officers, and really stupid policies/regulations...or the effed up interpretations of regs by the aforementioned field grades.
The author W.E.B. Griffin almost always inserts the following philosophy into his novels: "The measure of a man's intelligence is determined by how much he agrees with you." Using that scale of measurement, I believe Matt Gallagher is on a plane with Albert Einstein.
Seriously...Read this book. You will not be disappointed.

Brutal Honesty Can Be Fun(ny)

I was tasked to review participant evaluation forms from a recent emergency planning workshop, which we will be hosting in a couple of months. There's usually at least one no-holds barred comment contained in this kind of feedback, and this bundle provided an instant classic.

In response to the question, "How well did the presenter convey the material to the audience?", one responder wrote in bold print, "Presenter read every dang Power Point slide verbatim...WTF? He MUST BE STOPPED NOW! His unabated dispensing of boredom almost caused a training death..."

"This is an Exercise..."

This morning's mission at work is to serve in the Sim Cell (Simulation Cell) supporting the State of Arizona Emergency Management Division while they conduct a mutual aid exercise. I've got about 30 minutes before my next "inject" (I get to role play various deployed first responders), so an impromptu blog post is in order to stave off boredom.
So yesterday morning in my cubicle, as I was chatting with a colleague, I noticed a field mouse poking his little head out from underneath one of my rolling file cabinets. He spotted me, and zipped back out of sight. I raised the alarm, which spurred a cornucopia of varied reactions from my cubicle neighbors. AJ's response was "So?", while Sandy began hyperventilating. The rest of us military vets immediately began plotting our tactics for implimenting RCOIN (Rodent Counter-Infestation) operations, ranging from conventional mousetrap/peanut butter emplacements to mini-IEDs. Posting the SITREP on Facebook yielded even more suggested solutions: Glue traps ("They stick to your ribs"), cats (Frankly, I'd rather have mice.), and from a combat infantryman I served with in Iraq, "Trap 'em in a box, then stomp on the box!"  That last one was a bit extreme for our Washington Hug-A-Tree Daily environment, but I filed it away just in case the lesser options failed. Our planning session was interrupted by a scream from Sandy's cubicle...She had just discovered the ninja rodents had gained entry to her junk food drawer, leaving half-eaten chocolate caramel Easter Eggs, cracker crumbs, and mouse turds littering everything else.
It appears that our entire building is infested with the little furry vectors, leading to many female employees propping up their feet on boxes while at their desks...Honest, folks, I'm not being sexist, this is based upon personal observation...and this being a state agency, it should be about 30 days before we get the necessary RCOIN equipment package issued to us.
Semper Mickey!

Today's Forecast: "Slightly Bloggy with a Chance of Irony"

My wife says that I'm happiest when either someone has given me a microphone, or I'm writing for fun. I think I'm guilty as charged, with the most compelling evidence being the resumption of this blog. After being relatively "blog-free" for the past seven months, the siren call of the written word launched once more into the ether has me smiling with anticipation.
Some of my desire to post what I think are humorous comments on the internet has been sated by routine sacrifices to great god of Facebook, yet there are limitations to that platform. Most posts must be short, and while there is a ready-made readership among my 150 or so "FB Friends", it feels like I'm doing an Open Mike routine, but with only 5 seconds onstage. There's also lots of competition and a fair amount of banality cluttering up the display of true jewels. Yep, my own posts can definitely fall into the banal category, but I do try real hard not to routinely add crap to the compost pile.
There's a lot more competition for my attention, now that I'm back home from the Iraq. There wasn't that much to do at night in my CHU other than watch movies, read, or write blog posts. The blog also served as my war journal, which is also providing fodder for the novel I'm (slowly) working on. Don't get me wrong, I'm damned ecstatic to be home almost every night with my first-class spousal unit and also our Jack Russell Terrier. It's just bad form to spend a couple of hours every evening in the back room, pounding away on the keyboard, especially after having spent a year apart. Nu-uh, not gonna be making THAT mistake. Guess I can forsake the iMac back here for my deployment-tested laptop, at least until my wife gives me THAT LOOK which translates to, "Pay some attention to me, lest I "accidentally" knee you in the groin tonight once you are asleep!"(I wish I'd learned to speak Arabic with the same fluency I have developed in "Spouse".)
Well, that's all for tonight...But tomorrow I shall regale you with the dramatic saga of "Mice Infestation in the Workplace"! 

Epilogue (Epiblog?)

I've been back home for two months, readjusting to simple things like indoor plumbing, fresh seafood, and a very nice absence of indirect fire. The month-long "Transition Leave" followed by a return to my civilian job has been spent in part processing the lessons I learned about myself, family, fellow soldiers, and all other aspects of a combat zone deployment. When I began this blog in April, 2009, I knew there would be a lot of new experiences, mixed with familiar situations from both military and law enforcement prior service. The biggest question in my mind was whether or not I would perform satisfactorily during a war. It's a question most military folks ask themselves.  I think, upon reflection, that I did okay. I managed for the most part to keep up with my younger colleagues, I never shirked from "outside the wire" missions, nor did I wet my pants during rocket attacks. My teammates provided me positive feedback, and made me feel like a contributing member of our detachment, rather than an old geezer has-been soldier. Their approval and acceptance has meant the most to me, far more than any medal or promotion, and I suspect I will be friends with some of them for a long time to come.

My perspective about most things has changed somewhat. Stuff that used to get me kind of wound up no longer has that effect. While I considered myself fairly laid back before deployment, now I'm even more so. That doesn't mean I am apathetic, I just don't sweat the small stuff...and a lot more things qualify as "small stuff" these days.  When I hear people who go ballistic over inconsequential matters, such as how our local Major League Baseball team is performing, I just shake my head sadly, and wish that they would apply such anger and emotional energy to something that really matters like finding a cure for cancer, ending child abuse and domestic violence, combating illiteracy, homelessness, or crappy TV sitcoms. My sense of humor is still very much intact, though occasionally I have come close to offering comments which would definitely fail the "Not Downrange Political Correctness Test". I found the frank, often crude humor exhibited by almost everyone over there to be very 1970's in flavor. Some of it made me uncomfortable, or just surprised, but for the most part it was refreshing to be able to joke without every comment risking punishment.  We still had clear standards and boundaries...racism and sexual harassment were never tolerated...but most everything else was fair game.  I especially enjoyed the proliferation of practical jokes, which also served to keep us sane. It was also a measure of social standing...if you were the target of the occasional prank, it meant that you were part of the clan. Those colleagues who overreacted to being the butt of a practical joke soon found themselves excluded altogether, although it usually required much more egregious behavior to rate complete shunning. Liars, slackers, and gross incompetents qualified on the first ballot.  In a war zone, being quietly bounced from the "Band of Brothers/Sisters" is a lonely fate. Of course, the ostracized soon formed their own clique, so nobody was ever truly alone for long.

While there were a lot of positive, or at least interesting aspects to being deployed to Iraq for almost a year, two situations really sucked for me. The first, and most negative aspect of 14 months away from home, was being away from my wife. While a number of my teammates relished the absence from their spouses for a variety of reasons, I definitely missed my wife every day. I am extremely lucky to have found such an amazing spousal unit, and definitely do not take her presence in my life for granted. At our ages, each day is a gift, so I keenly felt the loss of leaving over 300 of those days "unopened". One upside is that the process of getting to know each other all over again is a lot like dating, but without the uncertainty and angst.
The second most unhappy part of being gone for so long was the deaths of a number of close friends, former colleagues, and family members which occurred in what seemed like rapid succession.  Though it helped to blog about their passing, I deeply regret not being able to attend their funerals/memorial services. In some ways, I still don't have closure, and that hurts. I was very thankful that my mother, whose health had seriously declined after I left, hung in there long enough for me to visit her the week I returned. She passed away the following week, but this time there was nothing left unsaid between us, and we had a chance to say goodbye to each other on our terms. (One thing that the Army and the American Red Cross still do exceptionally well is arrange for emergency leave, for which I will be eternally grateful.)

There is one other major lesson that requires mention. Although there were a few frightening moments during my tour in Iraq, and I am now entitled to wear a "Combat Patch" on my right sleeve of my uniform, I don't compare myself for one second to those true combat soldiers who endured daily patrols, firefights, IEDs, or suicide bombers, for a year or more, and for many, up to five deployments in either Iraq or Afghanistan. Many of those soldiers display the same ribbons I now do, but our experiences don't really compare. To those of you who fought in WWII, Korea, Vietnam, or Somalia/Panama/Grenada/Desert Storm, I am honored to be allowed to walk through the same door you are, but I certainly don't feel entitled to stand in the front ranks...

Finally, I need to acknowledge the darkest side of my job during this deployment: Investigating soldier suicides. There has been a lot of commentary and discussion in the media, as well as throughout the ranks about this terrible epidemic. There is absolutely nothing heroic, and no benefit served when a Soldier, Marine, Sailor, or Airman decides to end his or her life. Although I had been exposed to a lot of violent death during my civilian law enforcement career, I was still not fully-prepared for the sheer numbers of young lives terminated for some apparently-trivial reason. Long after I have stopped getting a bit twitchy at the unexpected clap of thunder, and my burn-pit induced chronic cough has gone away, I will likely be haunted by the scenes of those deaths, simply because they made no sense at all.

As I wrap up this blog's final post, I must thank all of you who faithfully read it since April, 2009. Your comments, both on and off-line, have encouraged me, and kept me writing. While I intend to transition from blogger to novelist (but doesn't everyone?), The Fighting Leprechaun will serve as fodder for at least one novel, as well as my wartime journal. While I can safely say that this will be my one and only combat deployment (I've checked the regulation to make absolutely sure, and have duly promised my wife!), I remain privileged to have served in these circumstances, alongside some of the finest soldiers in the United States Army, and returned home safely with only the aforementioned cough, and a persistent case of "Saddam's Revenge"... In short, I am one lucky leprechaun!

Very Respectfully,

THE FIGHTING LEPRECHAUN