Thursday, August 24, 2006


The Army is full of characters. You have the middle class kids that joined for the college money, you have the crazy rednecks that just wanted to get off the farm, you have the inner-city kids that didn’t want to get shot at anymore, you have the kids that just wanted to get away from their family or lack there of, you have motherfuckers that can’t speak English, you have racist kids, you have kids that were bored with everyday bullshit…anyone you can think of is in the Army.

Redneck: I met this one kid on my way back from R&R and this is our brief moment of friendship: I’m in Kuwait waiting to get on a flight…laying on my cot, and talking to my friend. Out of nowhere this guy walks over with dip in his mouth, spit bottle in hand, and he sits on my cot. I have no clue who he is or what he wants but he starts talking about how he thinks he knows me from who the hell knows where. Out of nowhere he asks me if I went fishing while I was home. Pretty random question. I look at him real hard, because I didn’t know if he was joking or not...he wasn’t. I told him no and he begins to tell me how he did. He had this super southern accent (he was from GA). My friend tried to clue him in by and said, “she’s vegetarian... I don’t think she'd be into that“. He looked at me with dip spit coming out the side of his mouth and said, "ya don’t eat meat? why the hell not? its good for you." I just told him I didn‘t think it was healthy...blah blah blah. I didn’t want to go into detail. Five seconds later he looked at me, and said..."not even deer?" I just started laughing…and said, “no I don’t fucking eat deer”! He goes into detail on how to kill a deer, skin it, gut it and how to cook it. Awesome, thanks. I just stared at him and thought about how I could get him off my cot. Being the nice girl that I am, I pushed out my legs, kindly rolling him off my cot and told him happy hunting.

The Crazy Asian: We had this kid named SPC C in our unit...he didn’t know much English besides no, fuck you, leave me alone, and I don’t want to go. When it was time to report to Ft. Dix for training he didn’t show up. He went AWOL. Everyone was looking for him and our First Sergeant finally picked him up at his house in NYC. Every night when we would get back from training he’d stare at this map of Ft. Dix we had in the hallway…we’d always say, “SPC C you planning your big escape?“ That was usually followed up by a, “Fuck you…leave me alone.: The whole time before we left and while we were overseas he was just a fucking pain in the ass to the higher ups. We loved him for that. He would just talk shit, tell people to fuck off, give people the finger…he was out of control. But somehow he managed to be promoted from a Private to a Specialist throughout the deployment (that’s moving up three ranks)…don’t ask how and till this day I can’t figure it out. When he came back from R&R he brought my roommate and I these Chinese ornament things…I guess he liked us.

Our Command Sergeant Major: CSM R was the second highest Soldier in our unit, falling under COL F. CSM was the type of Soldier you’d want to go to war with. He was the “all American” guy. He knew how to get shit done, he always helped you out, he could get stern and serious…but that’s what was best about him. If he asked me to deploy with him again I’d do it in a heartbeat. We trusted him with our lives.

Our Commanding Officer: COL F was the “big man”, who everyone answered to. He was basically a politician…always waving and giving these speeches everywhere he went. A lot of people liked him unless you worked directly for him. When people would ask what unit we were in we’d tell them and they would always respond with….”Oh, you have that tall black Colonel…the one that acts like he’s running for President.” That was us.

Straight Edge Kid: One night I was in the gym shooting the shit with my friend when I saw this kid walking around with X’s tattooed on the back of his legs. I automatically ran over to him and we started talking. I was like, holy shit! A kid in the Army that doesn’t drink? No way. I was so excited because no one in my unit heard of Straight Edge before…I mean I didn’t really care but it was awesome to find a kid that lived the same lifestyle. C and I became friends and would just talk about music, all the shows we were missing, and how we wanted to become cops. He was from Kentucky but he tried to tell me he was from Philadelphia. I don’t know who he was trying to fool with that accent. I still talk to C to this day…he’s fed up with “civilian life” and is going active duty. Once you get something in your blood its hard to get out.

Reason number 403043 why Officers suck: Major M…this man thought he was the creator of the world. Arrogant, rude, obnoxious…no one could stand him. When our tour was over and we arrived at Ft. Dix to out process, we had to turn in all our equipment. G and I and a bunch of other lower enlisted volunteered to look through the units equipment, check it off and get it ready to go back to Ft. Totten. MAJ M came through with his equipment but he forgot something, so I told him to go back and get it. He finally came back 20 minutes later. He expected me to stop what I was doing but I told him to wait a couple minutes while I finished another Soldier. Well that wasn’t fast enough for him…he walked up to the table I was sitting at, punched it and screamed in my face. I lost my shit. It turned into a cursing, screaming match…and that didn’t go over well. He told me to get into the position of attention and I just started laughing and didn‘t move. After about 5 minutes, my First Sergeant had to escort him out. Needless to say, his bag disappeared and so did he paper work. Enjoy paying a couple thousands dollars, asshole.

Safety Officer: Captain P was our Safety officer. He was just a “dork”. All the guys would fuck with him, make fun of him and just terrorize the shit out of him. A bunch of guys saw him talking to his Skittles one day. Our Company Commander gave him the worse job ever. He had to walk around the base and check how safe people were being. Sometimes he would ride around on his bike and yell at people if they didn’t have a helmet on, he would place those orange cones randomly on the street, he wore these huge goggles all the time, he was just a disaster. He would give the unit safety briefings and everyone would fall asleep. Poor soul.

Goooo Yankees!: SPC S was the oldest Specialist in the Army…he had to be about 45. He was this crazy guy from NYC that ran a hotdog stand vendor. It always seemed like he had 10 cups of coffee too much. He would talk to himself and listen to the oddest 90s rock and hip-hop ever. Whenever he would get excited he would yell “HOOAH! GO YANKEES!”. He was priceless.


Anonymous straight edge kid said...

You about summed it up. Except for the whole accent thing. I dont know when you were in Philadelphia last, but thats a philly accent, not KY. we are hanging out soon.

8/24/2006 06:30:00 PM  
Blogger Lois Lane said...

Chris, you're crazy!!! thats a southern accent. its cute. dont lose it. we are hanging out excited!!! road trip? halfway.

8/24/2006 07:04:00 PM  

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