Sunday, November 18, 2012

Arrrmmmmyyyy training, sir!


Sorry for the length and delay in posting, it has been a busy few days...

Everyone told me that this training would be crazy, but there really are no words to describe the complete disconnect between the actual job I will be doing in Kuwait (leading a group of Navy Customs folks) and the training I am getting.  Rather than create their own training center the Navy (and Air Force and Coast Guard) all send their folks to the Army for training, so anyone going to Central Command (CENTCOM, which includes Iraq, Afghanistan, the Horn of Africa, and Kuwait) goes to one of about a dozen or more Army posts for training before flying overseas.  On the face of it that makes great sense, it should be more effective, efficient and cheaper to do it this way.  In actuality it is a huge mess.  Kuwait is a lot like Canada in that the US has a huge presence there and it is essentially a benign area (although you have to be careful in Quebec , those Quebecois are crazy).  Even though by policy the US doesn’t have any “permanent” bases in the Middle East for all intents and purposes we have many in Kuwait and the most dangerous things over there are the drivers.  I won’t need Kevlar body armor, we won’t be traveling in convoys with HMMWVs and MRAPs, and there aren’t any IEDs dotting the countryside.  However, a lot of my training relates to all of that.  The Army has one particular set of training standards and they apply them evenly and without thought across everyone, regardless of service or mission.  We don’t actually get Customs training until our last 2 days here. 

I am at this wonderful point in my career where I have more than 20 years of service, I have had a couple of commands and I can take or leave making the next rank, so I don’t have a problem telling people when I think things are wrong, and that is what I have been doing.  My opinion is that this is a huge waste of time and money and my rabble-rousing has apparently made it up to the Brigade Commander (the guy in charge of executing the training) and I have to talk to him after Thanksgiving.  In the meantime I just keep writing things down and reporting the craziness up the chain of command.  I really, really dislike the whole military culture of putting down the branch of service that isn’t your own and I try very hard not to let the sailors see what I think and feel (except the Chiefs, who occasionally have to talk me down) but this is institutionalized thinking at its worst.

It is amazing how quickly you go into a news vacuum.  I am aware that we reelected the President (or the Kenyan as some here are calling him) and that Israel is spinning things up against the Palestinians.  I am also aware that several current and former general officers have been very, very naughty.  Beyond that…I don’t know much of what is going on in the wide world.  The day is consumed with details about training and who is sick and who didn’t receive a gas mask and where is the supply van and why don’t our comms work.  Every evening we solidify the plan for the following day and tentatively set the plan for the day after that.  Then it is bedtime.  If I get up early enough I get in a workout and the cycle repeats.

I did thoroughly enjoy qualifying on the M9 pistol, even though if I have to start shooting things in Kuwait we have big problems.  I used to be a pretty good shot back in the day; I worked hard on becoming an expert with the .45 and the M16.  It is all physics and how you arrange your muscles and bones to support the weapon, so it is really something that anyone can do well with enough practice.  I haven’t shot a whole lot since, I may get to a range every couple of years for what they call familiarization fire, where they just make sure you know how to safely operate the weapon.  I wasn’t the best in the Navy class, but I was in the top grouping and that was with a malfunctioning pistol.  These uppity kids have to be kept in their place.
The group dynamics are fun to watch.  This is a little bit like Survivor in that a bunch of strangers get thrown together and have to survive various challenges.  The military hierarchy and discipline roots out a lot of the stuff you would see on a reality show, but I know for sure that there will be sickness and that sooner or later there will be a fight, probably over a female (I got some feedback on that word from my last post – that is just what the fairer sex are called here.  If one has to go into a male barracks room they call out “female on deck”).  Well, the crud is already creeping around the barracks - we have sent a couple to the ER and a couple to sick call - and I am getting wind of unrest among the troops.  Some have never had to share space with others like this before and have problems when they don’t get their way.  There is absolutely no privacy here, which can make calling home uncomfortable, particularly if there are issues at home.  And of course we have young, single males and females vying for each other’s attention.  All of that really makes for interesting leadership challenges, and Thanksgiving could really amplify the problem as it is a tangible reminder that we are all away from home and our families. 

The main part of the FEMA presence is finally leaving Ft Dix.  There are still tons of state troopers around but the lines at the galley (or DFAC [Dining Facility] as the Army insists on calling it) are going to shorten up a bit.  We have fun throwing Navy words at the Air Force (we are actually in their barracks) and the Army and they have fun throwing their super special terminology back at us.  That part of inter-service rivalry I can deal with, as long as it is in jest.  It can be an obstacle though.  There was an event on our training schedule last week called PATS – obviously an acronym for something, but what?  I was told it stands for Protection Assessment Test System.  Well then, why didn’t you say so!  Turns out it is a system to test the seal on your gas mask, they use a very nice-smelling incense in lieu of teargas, which is a plus.
I heard Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” last week, which is only the best Christmas song (and best Christmas album cover, or CD cover, or virtual cover or whatever it is called now) ever in the history of the world.  Then I remembered won’t be home to torture everyone with Christmas music this year, and that they may discover an awesome new Christmas candle scent without me, and who is going to hang all the outside lights and they don’t even know my system to put everything away so it is going to get all messed up and I won’t get my birthday lasagna this year and then she starting singing the words and pretty soon it wasn’t as fun to listen to as it usually is.  

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