Some Iraq Veteran

Like nearly everyone else, I’ve been passionately following the events in Haiti.  I don’t care where you fall on the issue of immigration, it’s impossible for a normal human being to read, hear and watch what’s happening without feeling compassion, empathy, sadness, and a host of other emotions.  My post here, though, isn’t to churn a debate on any issues surrounding the relief efforts in Haiti.  I’m just not the kind of guy who can write about stuff like that when it’s so fresh and emotional – I’d never be a good newsperson.

No, instead I’m writing because with Haiti in the news (and the comments from the French about us “occupying” the nation), it reminded me of something that occurred in the past.  My memory is pretty bad (remind me to tell you about me forgetting my wife’s grandmother’s funeral), but watching this unfold jogged a memory of something.  I may be wildly off, but here’s what came to mind:

Some years ago the U.S. Marines were in Haiti and the ROE forbade the Marines from using force under any circumstances other than self defense.  In other words, the Marines could not use force to interfere in a dispute between locals.  I vividly remember a photograph of a young, African American Marine, pistol unholstered, standing over a man who had been beaten, surrounded by a crowd.  I seem to recall that the Marine watched this man being beaten by the crowd, and fearing for the man’s life said “Fuck this” (I’m ad-libbing what he said, but having known a few Marines I feel pretty confident this statement went through his mind) and, in violation of U.S. policy, whipped out his pistol and held the crowd at bay.  He saved the man’s life.

Like I said, my memory may have butchered the events.  For some reason I think it was in the early 1980s, but I’m not sure the Marines were there then – maybe it was during Operation Uphold Democracy in the 1990s?  Maybe I’ve totally botched it and it was a different nation?  The photo was etched in my brain, and for whatever reason I associate that photo with the concept of the Strategic Corporal because as I remember it, once the photo hit the news U.S. policy was changed to permit the Marines to use force in defense of others.  It’s one of my favorite images and I used to have a copy of it but I lost it a few years ago.

Anyway, I can’t find the photograph anywhere.  If anyone has a link to that photo and could post it I would be thrilled.  Also, if anyone knows of the incident I am talking about and can correct my recollection I’ll send you a free Internets.

Ok, this may be of amusement only to me, but I’ll tell you guys real quickly how I almost became the Strategic Lieutenant.  I was in Kuwait and was driving one of those little rented SUVs down the road with my star NCO and we got lost in downtown Kuwait City (before you send the “lost lieutenant” jokes my way keep in mind I was DRIVING – there was an NCO in the TC slot, so hah!).  This was when we were coming through on our way back from Iraq.  We were in major traffic, stopped in the middle of some kind of huge market.  People were walking all over, and we were doing a poor job of maintaining situational awareness.  I had a cell phone with an emergency number taped to it, a pistol and one magazine.  For some reason I can’t remember, my NCO had  long rifle instead of an M4.

As we were stopped, I saw in the side view mirror this guy walking up behind the car reaching into his waistband.  He was wearing a really long shirt, and it looked very strange how he was reaching in to his pants, where he was located vis a vis our car, etc.  My blood froze and I reached down to yank my pistol out, and I started babbling about the guy behind us.  Well, when I reached down to pull that gat all my NCO knew was that we were very pasty faces in full uniform, stuck in traffic in Kuwait and his LT was freaking out while frantically trying to unholster a weapon.  The look on his face was shear terror, and I have to tell you this was a guy who I never saw afraid, ever, but he really looked like he had just shit his pants.  Hell, my arse nearly sucked all the upholstery off the seat.  He’s trying to swing that rifle around but he can’t because the damn cab of the SUV is so small, he’s so big and the M16 is so long.  I’m trying to get my pistol out, but I can’t because I had it snapped and I got tangled in the seatbelt.  I’m watching this guy in the side view mirror pulling his shirt up and reaching into his waistband and I’m thinking “We just got out of Iraq and we’re going to get gunned down in a Kuwaiti flea market.”  I cannot overemphasize what tourists we must have looked like that day, and how much like the keystone cops we acted.

So, as I’m watching the dude pulls out … a cell phone and walks on by.  Four things occurred to me: (1) I needed to lay off watching The Shield (I had been watching the series on my little DVD player at night), (2) Who the hell keeps a cell phone in their waistband, (3) If that guy intended to shoot some American Soldiers stuck in traffic, he would have easily accomplished it because our sense of security that day was fucking awful, and (4) If I had shot a man in broad daylight in a crowded market situated in a friendly nation solely for using his cell phone, there surely would have been some kind of policy change on something and I would have made the evening news.  I most certainly would have been the Strategic Lieutenant, but not in a good way.  I have no idea what the Status of Forces Agreement (or whatever legal document controls our relationship with Kuwait) says, but I can picture myself being imprisoned in a Kuwaiti jail.

My NCO was so pissed I had made him nearly shit his pants that he wouldn’t speak to me on the way back.  Every now and then he’d just lean over and punch me in the arm as hard as he could.

Sorry for the war story, and the seemingly unrelated train of thoughts I just expelled on to your screen. 

-Dacker

So I turned 40 this year, which is … aggravating, but not really the point of this story.  I was sitting at lunch the other day with my wife and eight year-old son who kept singing “Lordy, Lordy, my dad turned 40,” when my wife commented that she would soon be 40 as well.  My son gets a confused look on his face, looks up at me and says: “I thought you told me women age faster than men?”

Needless to say that comment was not well received.  Hopefully my Christmas gift will get me out of the doghouse – we’ll see.

Christmas.  I hate to sound like Scrooge, but this is the most stressful time of the year for me.  There is so much to do, so many family gatherings, too much time off of work, etc.  I just can’t stand the time leading up to Christmas Day.  But I love Christmas morning, always have.  Like many married couples with family close by we have to split the day between both our families (it was a royal pain in the arse those years my divorced parents refused to speak or gather together).  My wife has a very normal family, for the most part, and we do breakfast at their house on Christmas morning.

Christmas afternoon is reserved for my family, who quite honestly are not normal and are responsible for about half the stress I endure this time of year.  How much do I dislike the Dacker family gathering?  Well, on Christmas Day 2005 I was leading a small group of Soldiers on a mission in Iraq that involved having to fly - I am scared shitless of heights - and I think I’d rather be doing that again.  I got out of Thanksgiving by taking my wife and son to the Smokey Mountains, but no can do for Christmas.

Work, work, work lately, but I’ve found a little time for fun.  We went to see the movie “2012″ today and we enjoyed it.  My son really liked it, but there were some parts he found a little scary, and there is one “F” bomb uttered.  This movie is not a thinking person’s flick, it’s a series of special FX shots strung together.  It’s long but just never lets up.  It’s corny, silly, cliche-ridden, and will make your eyes bleed, but we enjoyed it.  If you like movies that take you on a ride then this is worth the price of admission.  In fact, I don’t think it would be a very good rental unless you have a theatre-sized screen in your home and and the same kind of sound system – it pretty much has to be seen in the theatre.

Besides movies I’ve been playing those computer games I told you about (Modern Warfare 2 and Dragon Age).  I also started playing Dungeons & Dragons Online again.  If anyone plays I’m on the Argonnessen server as “Dacker Dondago.”  If you’re into D&D it’s pretty fun, but just like with the pen-and-paper game it does require some research before you begin if you want to get the most out of it.

Well, that’s all for today folks, cheers!.

-Dacker

*Edit: I misspelled my freakin’ name!

I was cruising the list of blogs Hope has listed on her site and came across this video over on A Soldier’s Perspective. The video was apparently created by something called the 545 Project (no clue). I usually hate those crappy YouTube videos put together with crappy music and ham-handedly designed to send some kind of political message with all the subtlety of a fart in church, but this one kinda grabbed me. Just make sure you turn your speakers off.

Cheers,
-Dacker

So I go to the VA hospital today, and it’s the first time I’ve been there.  I have to visit the main hospital first, and man let me tell you, it’s the saddest place I’ve ever been in.  From the very moment I walked in I saw just a sea of people – vets from all eras, in a variety of conditions.  The place is very large, but it’s not large enough.  They have attempted to maximize the space, and have resorted to rather creative means to do so.

I was just there for X-Rays, but I’ve heard and read the horror stories of dealing with VA staff.  I looked over the throng of people and made out the information desk off in the distance.  The two people there looked very busy, but it only took a few moments for me to move up in line.  As I stood waiting my turn I observed how helpful and patient they two were in dealing with the older vets in front of me.  When my turn came the helper even managed a short laugh, commenting that from the expression on my face he could tell where I needed to go – and he was right.  He gave me directions and off I went, wondering how he managed to stay chipper with all that he dealt with.

I made my way to X-Rays and was greeted immediately by another helper.  She took my information and told me to have a seat.  I settled in, thinking “this is the government, it will be awhile.”  Less than five minutes later the guy who takes the X-Rays (radiology techs?) called my name.  He was older than me, maybe mid to late 40s, and very pleasant.  He was training someone that day, and I could hear him behind the screen saying things like “you see, these poor guys have to carry tons of weight for years, and it all settles here on this spot” (presumably he was pointing at a spot on my x-ray), and “the beating these guys get on their bodies is rough, so you have to take the pic this way” (guess he meant aim the x-ray thing a certain way).  He said it loud enough for me to hear him, and I think he meant it to demonstrate the respect he had for the service members he worked on.

The guy also has tremendous passion for his job.  He kept talking about getting the “money” shot on certain x-rays, and would retake them.  Now granted, hearing the term “money shot” while one is lying on one’s side on a bed, with pants down around knees, in the fetal position, knees to chest, is a little bit alarming.  But again, he was referring to the quality of his work and it’s obvious he loved his job.

Great, so far.  My experience with the main hospital was sad, but I was overjoyed with how I and the people I observed were treated.

Now, fast forward two hours later.  I have an easy appointment over at a brand new clinic.  The place is so lax that there are maybe 10 cars in the front of the lot, and I park right up front.  I walk in and there’s one older vet waiting and myself.  I look up and behind the counter is a creature I am far more familiar with: the pinched expression, wrinkles around the mouth from too much smoking and frowning, the condescending demeanor, the ubiquitous bouffant hairdo – this, my friends, is the stereotypical low-level government employee.  They may be beaten by their spouse at home, raising a grand-baby because their 16 year-old daughter ran off with a dealer; their son is in prison, and the employee herself has considered eating a gun on more than one occasion, but when they step behind that government-issued counter they…are…God.  “Crikey” I thought.

Rather than engage this creature directly, I simply handed over my paperwork.  I no longer say “good afternoon,” “how are you,” “how they hangin,” etc. to this type and I don’t expect them to use such niceties on me.  I was not disappointed.  The creature took the paperwork and started typing.  A few minutes later the paperwork was returned to me and I was instructed to have a seat.

As I sat there, I got the chance to see the creature in action.  First, one of the nurses/doctors came out with a patient and instructed the creature to reschedule her follow-up at a different time.  The creature proceeded to tell the nurse/doctor how upset another department would be, so the nurse/doctor stood there explaining to what is essentially the receptionist all the reasons why the rescheduling was necessary.  The nurse/doctor was obviously too young to simply say “Because I fucking said so.”  So I got to see the tug-of-war go on, with the creature finally muttering “well they won’t be pleased.”  Then I got to hear a phone call from a guy who had moved to the area recently and needed to transfer (or whatever it’s called) his benefits so he could see a doctor here.  The creature rattled off what sounded like a rule that had to be followed, and the phone number to call, and seemed exasperated the vet didn’t already know it.  There was no empathy, compassion, care if he even actually understood what she was saying.  Finally, a guy came in and needed an adjustment on his hearing aids and the creature initially told him no, because he didn’t have an appointment.  After a few moments, the vet remembered the name of the rep that told him to stop by and her response was “Well, he doesn’t have hours here so he has no business telling you that.”  She then goes on about how it’s putting everyone out by having to find time for someone to see this old vet.  Shit, I’m looking around and there’s me and one other guy there, and it’s only 2:00 p.m.

Why these people exist is beyond me.  Absolutely no care for the increased stress they cause in the lives of people who, quite frankly, don’t need it and sometimes aren’t in the best of shape to handle it.  She wasn’t the most awful employee or worst person I’d ever encountered, she was just the most prevalent government employee.  And that kinda sucks.

Blowing off steam, sorry.

-Dacker

A New Mexico judge issued a warrant for the arrest of a National Guard Soldier for a charge of driving under the influence (DUI or DWI – driving while intoxicated).  The National Guardsman, Jordan Pratz, missed a court date on September 14, 2009 which resulted in the arrest warrant.

The problem is the Soldier is, and was at the time of his court date, deployed to Iraq.  The Bernalillo County District Attorney’s Office asked the judge for the warrant, claiming it was necessary to ensure the statute of limitations did not elapse.  The DA was gracious enough (and I’m being sarcastic here) to permit Pratz to turn himself in upon his return, else he faces arrest.  So, as this National Guardsman gets nearer to completing his year or fifteen months, or whatever amount of time he is deployed – assuming he makes it home - he can look forward to getting off the plane, hugging his family, and then going to jail.  That’s just wonderful.

People who drink and drive really piss me off, because they put other people’s families in danger for an extraordinarily selfish act.  The deaths that occur due to DUI are preventable, pure and simple.  But honestly, you can’t compare the case of Bob Imadrunk who blows off a trial date with that of a National Guardsman deployed to Iraq.  It was impossible for Pratz to make his court date, what with the war on and everything.

I have no idea if Pratz is guilty of the crime,  (and a quick Google search will show you that not everyone arrested for DUI is guilty), but let’s assume he is.  Deployed troops have a tremendous amount of stress on their minds as it is.  Everything from worrying about getting killed/maimed or getting others killed/maimed, to stressing about problems that occur at home that the deployed fighter can’t do anything about.  The idea of having to fight next to the guy whose head is not in the game scares the bejesus out of me.  Plus, you all know how everyone gets kinda crazy as they get closer to redeployment, imagine how’d you’d feel if you knew your CHU-mate was stressing about going to jail at the end of the deployment.

I have a hard time swallowing the argument that an arrest warrant was the only way to handle this situation.  This smells to me more like it was the “easier” course of action for the DA – and we all know how government-types prefer easy over practical.

If Pratz is guilty of the crime then after his day in court he needs to pay the price just like anyone else.  My problem is he is having to pay a bigger price solely because of his status as a deployed Soldier.

Anyway, here’s the video of the news story:

And the article is here:

Judge Issues Arrest Warrant for National Guardsman

If you feel like letting the DA know how you feel, here’s the e-mail.

-Dacker