Schneppy's List

I found this thing a few days ago. I made it while I was in Iraq.

This is a compilation of the standing orders I've been given during my deployment with C-Btry 2-8 FA. They're all things I've done, things I've plotted to do (but was forbidden from doing before I could carry it out), and things I've seen other people do (but they forbade me from doing it anyhow!).

1. Not allowed to play mind-games with the LT.

2. Not even for science.

3. Not allowed to drive an armored vehicle halfway across Iraq without a driver's license, civilian or otherwise.

4. The squirrel does not go to guard mount.

5. It does not "Help to give the voices a face."

6. The squirrel does not countermand any orders from the Sergeant of the Guard.

7. When the SoG calls for the hourly radio check, the proper response is "Tower Two, lima charlie," not "Tower Two, just as loud and clear as it was twenty minutes ago." Even if the last one was only twenty minutes ago.

8. I shouldn't complain about that pesky SoG keeping me awake all the time.

9. That goes double if the First Sergeant is within earshot.

10. If I find a camel spider in my tower, I should kill it dead.

11. I shouldn't call my battle buddy over to rescue me from the Spanglish-spouting drunken camel spider that has me trapped by hanging out near the ladder.

12. If a buddy does the above to me, I'm not supposed to sit there and laugh before telling the arachnid where the buddy's bunk is.

13. Using my weapon to kill a camel spider is not a good idea. It'll probably die, but the chain of command gets cranky.

14. Using my weapon and not killing the camel spider is a worse idea. Now I have both the chain of command and a camel spider cranky at me.

15. If at any time I show up for mission with tinfoil in my ACH, I stay home today.

16. When the Brigade psychiatrist stops by, I'm to give Chief all my tinfoil.

17. Not allowed to lie to the Brigade psychiatrist to pretend to be 'five different flavors of crazy'.

18. Not allowed to lie to the Brigade psychiatrist to pretend to be sane. Even Automatic Six knows I'm not.

19. Each of my personalities does not get an interview with the Brigade psychiatrist. We have to share the one I get.

20. Even if she's the only female I've seen in two months.

21. Getting "Steel on Steel" with the RQ-11B Raven on the instructor's vehicle is a bad thing. That means I should stop bragging about it.

22. Even if it was my first time flying that $40,000 lawn dart and the look on his face was really funny.

23. Don't refer to the row of parked personal vehicles as a "Landing strip."

24. I'm to hand the controls over to my Mission Operator when it comes landing time. It's just better that way.

25. I need to eventually run out of new and interesting mistakes to make. The creativity and energy I put into them has much more constructive outlets that I should look into.

26. When anyone above the rank of O-7 visits the COP, I'm to go out by Tower Four and do my ninja impression until he leaves.

27. During an air-assault mission, not allowed to threaten to "Spew my guts all over this bird and everyone in it - even the pilot!" when the ride gets a little choppy.

28. Don't carry out the above threat again.

29. Think about it for thirty seconds, then say it.

30. "Thingie" is not a technical term.

31. Don't paint sillhouettes of animals I've run over on the door of my truck (Simpson, not me - they don't let me drive).

32. If the thought of something makes me giggle for longer than 10 seconds, I am to assume that I'm not allowed to do it. (Apparently, the LT's read Skippy's List).

33. During a room inspection, I really shouldn't have porn playing on my computer with the sound turned up.

34. My collection of miniatures does not need to be on display for a room inspection.

35. Especially not in formations.

36. I am the "Designated Alibi." That means I should stay out of trouble at least more often than the other savages.

37. Sunlight does not burn my skin like acid.

38. I shouldn't write "All work and no play make Schnepp a dull boy" all over my walls again just because it's the fourth month of night and I'm starting to get cabin fever.

39. When they put out the call for a new name for C-Battery, don't volunteer things like "Cannibals," "Criminals," "Cavemen," or "Convicts" no matter how accurate a descriptor it is.

40. Don't ask about that "Cannibals" thing. What happens in the field, stays in the field.

41. I shouldn't threaten people with "You're on the List now".

42. By now, they're all on it at least twice.

43. Circled and underlined for McWilliams.

44. When another soldier asks if he's on the List, I shouldn't reply with, "Are you in the phone book?"

45. Not supposed to announce who's made the "Top Five" on the List. That's the kind of thing people are happier not knowing.

46. I shouldn't complain about having never been "killed" during wargames.

47. When someone says that C-Btry's the best, not supposed to laugh out loud. It's actually true. *Sighs*

48. Think about it for a minute, then say it.

49. When I capture a radio off of OPFOR, don't call up "I'm in ur base, killin ur manz!" over it. That's just in bad taste.

50. Don't yell "Blood for the Blood God!" during a firefight.

51. Don't get kicked off the range and subsequently banned from coming near the Signal Company just because "The bullet missed, so I sent a few of his buddies to investigate."

52. Don't call them pansies just because they get scared of someone shooting an M16A2 at its cyclic rate of fire at a target at point-blank range.

53. Not allowed to make the new privates sleep outside, just because "I don't like that little shit." It's freezing cold and he's soft and weak.

54. The fact that I can sleep out there with no trouble at all has nothing to do with this. They're soft and weak, remember?

55. I shouldn't refer to Basic Training as Daycare. I'm New Army, it's kinda like making fun of myself.

56. When Alaska Governor and then-Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin says "Hooyah!" (as opposed to "HUA") during our deployment ceremony, do a better job of stifling the giggles.

57. During our mandatory Suicide Prevention classes, I'm not allowed to utter the words "Natural Selection."

58. During our mandatory Equal Opportunity classes, we really shouldn't spend a half-hour swapping politically incorrect jokes.

59. I am not allowed to sing "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall" to completion over the radio during a 36-hour overwatch.
Again.

60. Talking priveledges are revoked.

61. When the LT asks follow-up questions to the briefing to make sure we know what we're doing, respond with anything other than "I don't know."

62. When we train with paintball rounds, don't aim for the head.

63. I *know* it doesn't have as much body armor, that's why I'm not allowed to aim for it.

64. When we train with paintball rounds, don't aim for the cojones, either.

65. When we train with paintball rounds and find out that FDC's guys playing OPFOR aren't going down until they run out of ammo, aim for the cojones.

66. Don't "Put two in a dead guy, just to make sure" when it's paintballs. At point-blank, those things really hurt... the cojones.

67. Try not to antagonize FDC anymore. They have a purpose in life other than "Cheap slave labor," and a bruised testicle really isn't all that funny.

68. Take less than four hours to zero my weapon. If I can hit a running target in the nuts from across the room, I can hit a stationary sillhouette 300 meters away with at least five out of thirty shots.

69. Being the best with a bayonet doesn't make up for being the second-worst shot in the battery.

70. When everyone else has daggers and hatchets as their backup melee weapon, I shouldn't take a hammer just because "I can tenderize them more" with it.

71. Don't use the hammer on OPFOR.

72. When we're playing OPFOR, don't capture any of the following and turn them on the other battery: A gun truck, their FDC, the chow hall, a platoon sergeant, a crew-served weapon, or a howitzer.
Again.

73. We don't take prisoners, so don't shoot them in a less-than-lethal area and then beat them with the hammer.

74. If we do, it's not for tonight's chow (see #40), even if they are really tender and juicy now.

75. Don't speculate about how he'd taste roasted over a heating stove in front of the captured OPFOR. I have a reputation, he'll believe it. This is somehow a bad thing.

76. Hazing is illegal in today's Army. That means we should at least wait for the new guys to screw up before giving them "blanket parties."

77. Don't force my superiors to check the limits of their sanity more than once a week.

78. It is not the "Moustache of Power."

79. When I figure out that the Iraqi Army guys who operate in our AO know about it, it is not the "Internationally-Renowned Moustache of Power."

80. The Moustache is not the source of my Samson-like strength.

81. When reporting, it's "Specialist Schnepp, reporting as ordered," not "Schnepp and the 'Stache, reporting as ordered!"

82. When I say something rude, insubordinate, or inappropriate, not allowed to blame it on the Moustache.

83. There are limits to the amount of bloodlust I'm allowed to show.

84. My mix of naivete, rage, and bloodlust is not endearing. It's frightening to the other soldiers. This means I shouldn't ask "Can I shoot it?" so much.

85. If a SERE graduate won't eat it, that's a sign I probably shouldn't.

86. The mess tent is not the "Tomb of Horrors." Don't volunteer a battle-buddy to take point when going into it.
We'll all die anyways.

87. My alter ego is not masked superhero "Moustache Man." I do not have theme music. Take that cape off.

88. Don't ask the Captain if he's gotten into Smoke's 'stash'. That's just a good mood. They happen in sane people every once in a while.

89. Never tell an IA "Mako coswa." He speaks Arabc, he knows what it means.

90. Try not to start, join, or finish a firefight with allied ISF. LT doesn't like paperwork.

91. The 10-second rule of food doesn't apply in Iraq.

92. When taking a psych-eval, don't say "It's not like I can get any crazier since getting to Iraq." Again, paperwork.

93. Never tell my NCO that "Fiki-fiki?" means "How are you?" He's dumb enough to say it to ISF, they speak Arabic, they know what it really means. This gets awkward fast.

94. Don't replace my nametape with "US Terp" just to mess with the new soldiers.

95. The fat kid who paints his toenails doesn't need a sports bra. He's inactive enough that a regular one will do just fine.

96. Accusing fellow soldiers of witchcraft stops being funny about the time I start seriously talking about "Cleansing with fire."

97. When asked to demonstrate "Escalation of Force Procedure" to the new guys, don't just raise my rifle and set it to burst. There are steps to be taken before that; take them. "Escalation of Force" is not "Raise my rifle to give that guy his Darwin Award."

98. "Rules of Engagement" for C-Btry is not "Whatever we can get away with."

99. Detainees are not "Ablative Meat-Shields," nor are they "Polish Mine Detectors." We have to pretend to follow the Geneva Conventions around here.

100. Don't get air with the 5-ton truck. Don't yell "YEE-HAW!" Don't pause in mid-jump to do a commentary on the situation.

101. Must file all requests to communicate with voices outside my head in paperwork to my first-line supervisor twenty-four hours in advance.

SST: Morgan's Mavericks

I picked up one of my orders from eBay, hand-delivered 'cause the seller and I live in the same general area. They were already basecoated a desert brown with a brick red/forest green/black tigerstripe camouflage pattern on one of them.


By spschnepp2 at 2010-10-30

As you can tell, I haven't done a whole lot to 'em yet. I touched up the visors, making them a paler blue (I'll probably wind up redoing them in an attempt at doing that jewel painting technique I've never gotten down, and like as not I'll get some gloss varnish in there just to see how it works out) and drybrushed Bleached Bone over 'em. Painting the corporal's stripes on went surprisingly well, but the sergeant's stripes, not so much. I'm either going to do 'em up in the chocolate chip desert pattern or have 'em all be in the same camouflage as the sergeant, not sure which. They're also going to get some 'battle damage' painted on, mostly in the form of scratched paint (mithril silver for the shiny). I'll get around to writing up some fluff for their squad eventually.

"I hate this formation and everyone in it" or "Why Schnepp owes the retention NCO a swift kick in the balls"

I've come to a conclusion. I hate the Army. I really, truly, deeply, hate the Army.

Here's why:
I just spent an hour and a half doing 'PRT'. I broke a sweat because it was really hot out. Half of the exercises involved holding my knees in a really painful position for two minutes a pop. The NCO leading PT thought this was good PT. Here's a hint, folks, it's not physical training without movement. I specify knees because mine are fucked up courtesy three years running around with full battle-rattle on and playing artillertard in between being a discount infantryman. This is not a concern for fobbits, whose knees only hurt if they used 'em to get promotion points.

I have to come into work several hours early to get a flu shot. I am twenty-two years old and healthy as a horse. Why the holy heavenly monkey-fuck am I getting a flu shot?

I apparently need to file a pass to go to Tucson, Arizona. It's an hour's drive away. This is for 'accountability'. The command also likes to ignore the policy letter they put out stating that us prior service jackasses are to be treated as permanent party... and permanent party doesn't have to file a pass to go seventy fucking miles. But we do. Apparently, my class leader (an E-5) is not qualified to be able to track me down after I tell him, "Hey, Sergeant, I'mma gonna go to Tucson". No. I need to file paperwork one week in advance my request to go to Tucson.
But I don't need to do this for Tombstone.

First Sergeant will state he looks out for all his soldiers, MOS-T and IET alike, then he'll only give IET kids the opportunity to go train up for the bigger UAS. His reason? The ERMP units already have NCOs. Because, y'know, apparently I've been promoted without anyone telling me. Finance does not approve of this as a reason to give me back-pay.

If I get a private back-talking, I'm not allowed to snatch him up and give him what-for. I have to tell the platoon sergeant that the private was misbehaving. Yeah. That's effective at instilling discipline.
If a private back-talks to a sergeant who isn't cadre, the sergeant is not allowed to smoke the private. He has to tell the platoon sergeant that the private was misbehaving. Yeah, that's gonna teach these pukes respect for the rank.
This while the First Sergeant tells us that all the MOS-T soldiers are NCOs and supposed to lead the IET pukes. How? They're goddamn civilians in uniform, how the hell can you expect them to act like soldiers?

Whatever happened to the Army I joined? Y'know, the one where they believed in the carrot and the stick, not just the carrot? Oh, right, we gotta be nice now. It's the kinder, gentler Army. Because that gets shit done.

I have to stand in formation for an hour and a half listening to Top, the Captain, and a butter-bar who I've spent more time in Iraq than he has in the service (ROTC/West Point don't count, jackass) give me a safety briefing. Thank you very much, I did not know I was not supposed to drink and drive.

I keep hearing about this spice shit. I wanna try some. I'm not kidding, every goddamn briefing involves spice someway, somehow.

At one point in my career I had to carry around five pieces of headgear. Five. FIVE. I do not have five heads. Why the fuck do I need five pieces of headgear? Here's why: I had the balaclava for when it was below 20. I had the watch-cap for when it was between 20 and 32. I had the beret for when I was out of the motor pool and it was above 32. I had the patrol cap for when I was in the motor pool and it was above 32. I had the ACH for when I was driving a military vehicle, and yes I had to have it in reach at all times even though I didn't have a license. Yes, the temperature would range like that in a single day. No, it still didn't make sense to have that many goddamn hats. If it does make sense to you, suck-start your weapon.

I am fully capable of driving a vehicle without a crash helmet. For that matter, I'm fully capable of climbing a vehicle without a crash helmet. Don't point out that helmets won't do shit for the neck. Or the hip. Or the ankle. Or the arm. The head's the only part you might hit when you fall off the truck, after all.

I've never touched alcohol in my life, and now I wanna drink. If nothing else, taking scoops out of my brain might help these command decisions make sense.

There are a great many sergeants for whom NCO stands for "No Chance Outside". I've only met a handful who were good at their jobs. The good ones don't re-up 'cause they can find a better job that has twice the pay with half the bullshit.

I spend one month's worth of time out of any given year sitting in the CP standing by. This is not unusual, and in fact some guys spend even more time standing by. This is 'cause the higher-ups won't release us until they're done doing the work they've been putting off to the last minute, even though we were done right after lunch.

There's the simple, easy way to do things that is immediately apparent to anyone with a brain in their skulls. That way is not the Army way. The Army way requires that you file at least three different documents at least a week in advance before, that you receive a three-hour safety brief, that you compile a composite risk management work packet, that you bring along five times as many people (in which case the shithead NCOIC will ensure everyone is working) or half as many people (in which case the shithead NCOIC will be nowhere to be found and half of those people won't be doing a damn thing) as are required for the task, and afterwards that you conduct an after-action review that takes - at the barest mininum - thirty minutes. Any attempts to deviate from this mandatory procedure will result in anything from a negative counseling to UCMJ.

Last but not least: I had to listen to some fuckwit in a fancy suit talk about how we've lost the war just to score in an election, then I had to put on my battle-rattle, mount up in the MRAP, and go out on patrol.

And Now for Something Completely Different

As it turns out, I have interests beyond randomly spewing about the goings-on in the world. One of these interests includes science fiction, both producing and ingesting. I'm currently fiddling with some of the old Mongoose Publishing Starship Troopers minis. They're... really lackluster compared to GW's plastics, as a lot of the kits don't seem to fit together quite right. Once they're together, though, they're not too bad. I'd have liked to see a better grade of detail on 'em and more variation of pose, but it's not bad. I've only basecoated one PAMI as a test dummy, but I've assembled several more and an Ape Marauder. The Arachnids have about eight warriors put together and most of a tanker bug. The tanker bug will be a lot of work, as the default pose it's in is pretty dull.

Between Young Soldiers and Old

I have a shibboleth I use to really tell people who've been in the Army for a very brief time from those who've been in long enough. It's a simple question: "If you were in a survival situation, life or death, would you eat a dead human?" Presumably, you didn't kill him for the sole purpose of eating him. There's lines, after all.
The young bucks almost always answer with a vehement "No!"
The old bastards almost always answer with a "Yeah, sure, why not?"
I don't think it's so much that the military encourages cannibalism as it is that us fellas who been in a minute have a better understanding of ourselves and have much fewer taboos. We have a better idea of what we will and won't do out of necessity, whereas civilians cling to certain illusions about what they won't do in order to survive.

In other news, I'm having pork for dinner.