Moving

I'll be en route to Ft Hood pretty shortly. Apparently, my company thinks it's right for me to move out of my barracks room before I clear post... while still expecting me to show up to work. See, shit like this is why I'm so happy to be getting out of this unit/post. I mean, it's not like I don't pay my BAH for this barracks room or anything.
Oh, wait.

SSG Lee: "What's wrong with Texans, Schnepp?"
Me: "Texans, Sergeant."
Bwahahaha. Good thing I don't leave post much. I hear they do lynch mobs.

Me, Shitbag?

It's funny how one incident can give a commander a completely wrong picture about someone. I was kinda-sorta-but-not-really related to the incident, but TRADOC being TRADOC I got dragged along for the ride. It basically meant that me - a specialist, an E-4, a junior enlisted soldier - had to sit there and try not to pay too much attention to the captain chewing out the sergeant. The captain thought it proper that the sergeant have a battle-buddy, and I don't outrank the captain.
But I thought it was pretty darn disrespectful to the sergeant, so I apologized to him for that as soon as we were clear.
Details aren't terribly important, it was one of those "What were you thinking?" type things. Because it wasn't me being the dimwit and instead someone I respect the hell out of, I won't relate 'em. The captain came away from this little meeting thinking of this sergeant as a lying self-centered bastard. That's the opposite of true. SGT Suhr's one of those sergeants who looks after his joes and tells us the God's honest truth. If he told me the sun was set to rise at 2359 tonight, I'd know it was 'cause he was damn sure the sun was set to rise at 2359 tonight. Apparently I'm disloyal, too, 'cause I didn't immediately leap to be present for my superior's dressing-down. Like I said, it's funny wrong an impression of someone you can get if you only know them from one interaction.

Also, you ever notice how you think of all the right things to say immediately after the door's closed, precisely the moment they stop being useful things to think of?

Shitbag Privates

Holy smokes, what is it about new privates that just makes my blood boil? The little bastards are rude, disrespectful, and cocky. Some of them are salvagable, but it seems that most of A-Co's initial entry... I hesitate to call them 'soldiers'... types are better off being thrown back into the civilian population. At least then they won't put me or my buddies in danger. Back in C-Btry, we looked at the arrival of new soldiers with a mix of glee and dread. Glee, because we'd get to pull all the old shenanigans on a new troop. Dread, because odds were he'd be a shitbag who'd wind up causing everyone in the battery a lot of headaches before he got caught with a DUI, popped hot on a piss test, or molested an underage girl (the only three offenses I've seen people get kicked out of the Army for). Just about every new soldier was an eighteen-to-twenty-year-old private who thought he was all that and a bag of chips because he graduated basic training. While some of that I can blame on their age, a lot of it simply goes back to TRADOC. They don't get taught that, while their dumb little buddies in IET land were just as low on the totem pole as they are, the soldiers in their unit ain't.

Take for example one of the little shits in my class. He's an E-2 barely out of BCT and not quite through IET. I'm an E-4 who's been some places and done some things. He acts as though following my directions were entirely at his option, and I have no recourse beyond going and grabbing an NCO! And because this is TRADOC, all the NCO can do is put him at parade rest and chew him out. He can't smoke him, can't write up paperwork on him. I've told him that I hope he winds up in the same unit as me. I fully intend to either break him as his drill sergeants should have done or make sure that when he screws up, the command does not look kindly upon him. I've had enough with shitstain privates. I don't mind the ones who're just dumb, but have a good attitude. I don't mind the ones who're cocky, but squared-away enough to back it up (that much). But when I'm chewing a private's ass because he decided that he would disregard my directions to continue working with the rest of the class rather than skip out to 'take out the trash' for twenty minutes, and he blatantly disrespects me? I tell him to go to parade rest and wipe that smirk off his face and he shoves his hands in his pockets? Fuck no. If the class leader (a SGT) hadn't intervened... heh, I probably woulda wound up losing my clearance and getting kicked out of the school. He thinks he's hot shit 'cause he can do 200 push-ups. Swell. That's completely unimpressive to anyone who's done PT with SSG Cobb (I bet everyone in old C-Btry remembers those "DIAMONDS!"). Doubly when you consider this private has lousy form and has to take breaks during this. Playing by the same rules, I can do over 500. You'll never hear me claiming that, though, 'cause I can really only do 50-60 a rep. Hell, you'll never hear me claiming that because I'm not some douchebag private who mistakes PT for soldiering. He asks "Why?" questions of an NCO. Anyone who's been in longer than three weeks understands that you do not do that. Period. Private does not ask "Why?", Private executes. If he's lucky, he'll figure out the "Why?" while he's doing it. The class leader had to tell him several times to get to parade rest. Not "At ease", not smirking, at parade-fucking-rest. What will his platoon sergeant do? Not a damn thing.

Before you think I was the one who started this, I wasn't. Except, perhaps, by being too soft and too nice to these kids. Believe me, I know how to be an asshole. I learned from the best. I chose not to, as it's not my job here. But when I start having to deal with a little bastard who disrespects everyone who doesn't have stripes on their chest... Well, I'm fully capable of putting away the Nice Guy hat and busting out with the Bastard McAssream hat.

This private is not the exception. He is the norm. This is why I have no intention of staying in the Army. TRADOC completely fails to instill any degree of respect into the new soldiers, and more and more the high command prevents units from correcting this oversight. They teach these kids that there's no such thing as rank inside the GCS. Bullshit there ain't. You can't pull rank to settle a disagreement over safety-of-flight issues, but there damn sure better be rank all the rest of the time. Privates need to follow the orders and directions of their superiors because... well, hell, they're the juniors for a reason. They don't know anything. If a private won't follow directions during a simple clean-up task, how can I expect him to follow directions during a firefight? How can I expect him to follow directions during a long, difficult mission? I can't. We are an Army at war. Even the noncombatant types like UAS operators need to understand that. I have a buddy who repairs optics. It's a job that sounds as poggie as... hell, the Navy these days. He's been in more firefights than he can count. What happens if I wind up in a knock-down drag-out firefight, and I have to rely on some shitbag private like the one described above? I'm trained and proficient in warfare. It comes naturally to me. I'll probably get killed trying to keep that jackass from getting himself killed, all because he won't listen to me when I'm trying to train him up... because he thinks that just because I'm not a sergeant, he doesn't have to listen to anything I say. Ignore the fact that I've spent more time in Iraq than he has in the Army. Ignore the fact that I've spent more time wearing a vest than he has wearing ACUs. Ignore that, he's an eighteen-year-old private and he knows everything.
Way to go, TRADOC. Glad some officer got that bullet on his OER. How many soldiers get killed because you won't let Drill Sergeant do his job the right way? How many shitbags have you released to the Army who we had to devote excessive time and energy into straightening out? How the hell do you think this is the right way to go?

"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.

Stuff

Today I got to sleep in 'til 0400. It's depressing to be able to type that sentence. We had a Class A inspection which I somehow passed 100% despite my uniform having been in a box since June and me putting on the bits of shiny by eyeball alone. I think that the first sergeant was distracted by the two epic fuck-ups standing behind me.

A kid fractured his neck being a dumbass in combatives. It was a simulation of crowd control, and he somehow managed to get his Kevlar to fall down over his eyes. He panicked. He took off at a sprint, tripped, and landed headfirst on a wall. He's in a halo thingie now, complete with struts drilled into his skull. He'll live, but I doubt he learned the lesson of "If your helmet covers your eyes, push it back up." It's amazing how the obvious solution evades us when we're in a panic.
I had to resist the urge to write 'Keep your chin up' on the get-well poster.

For the record, when I went through I immediately 'shot' the guy who grabbed my secondary weapon. A second guy tackled me, I kicked him off (shouting "Bad Iraqi! No cookie! No chocolat*!" as I did so) and 'shot' him. The NCO in our group did even better, beating them back with his rubber ducky before the big guy grabbed him. The NCO calmly put a pistol to the side of the big guy's head and said 'bang'. Another kid was pretty damn hostile - he had his knife out and 'in' the attacker before he hit the ground. It was pretty cool to watch.
*: Not misspelled, the Iraqis pronounce it funny.

We did a land nav course yesterday. The group I was with had it wrapped up forty minutes before the next team and about two hours before the last team. I'm fair to sure it's because they realized rather quickly (with a little pointer from yours truly) that land nav courses are maintained by a buncha old graybeards who don't want to walk for hundreds of meters, so almost all of the points are within about a hundred meters or so of a path. It was refreshing for them to put down the damn compass and just navigate. It's been my (albeit limited) experience that compasses are good for orientation, resection, and intersection, not for actually navigating your way from one place to another.