2.20.2007

Peering Down The Rabbit Hole

Since we came back from our field training exercise, we've been really busy with this whole three ring circus called "Predeployment."

Pre-de-PLOY-ment *noun*
The preparation phase before deployment in which all common sense goes out the window, tempers flare like raging hemrhoids, work hours change indefinitely, and wives are constantly pissed off.


We sent our vehicles off to get more random shit that I don't understand stuffed into or onto them, or whatever cosmetic surgery the big green divas are getting this time. Surely more things to make them more cramped and impossible to move around in. The infantry Strykers arent too bad actually, but they cram a lot of guys into them. The mortar Strykers are the object of my absolute hatred. Moving around in that god forsaken hunk of shit is like pulling teeth. You don't break that vehicle in, it breaks YOU in, with cuts and welts on top of your head. It teaches you how to swear vehemently, violently, voraciously, and with style and creativity.

We packed a whole bunch of boxes and office gear and god knows what into huge transportable shed things called MilVans or something, yesterday, while it rained all over us (funny story, Washington does that) and the wind sucked the heat out of our uptight shivering bodies. Today, and personal items that we want to bring are supposed to be packed, and I think we're supposed to pack a couple duffel bags. I don't know. I don't always listen so well. I'm usually too busy daydreaming.

Oh, that's right, we also have some briefing at some theater somewhere on this earth some time today supposedly. So really, I should get changed into a dry uniform and start packing some of my crap, but odds are, I'll just end up jumping on Xbox Live and getting my ass kicked in a rousing game of Call Of Duty 3.

Also: No, I don't know exactly where we're going or what we're doing, nor do I know when exactly we're going, and no, I still don't know if I get predeployment leave or not. But I HAVE done the paperwork they need, should I choke on a Buffalo Wing and kick the bucket while doing nothing in Iraq. So that's one less thing to worry about. I was tempted to fill out some smartass answers, which would result in a strange funeral, kind of a last joke of mine, but I don't know if anyone else would think it funny. Still, if you're an attractive female Active Duty servicewoman, shoot me an email if you want to escort my remains, it'll be like a little vacation, something to think about. Even better if you can pull together an entourage. We won't even have to make small talk or anything, cuz I'll be busy taking up space in some gray military coffin, wearing Class A's that don't fit anymore. So you know, something to think about.

2 Comments:

  1. janie said...
    My Soldier who was with the 172nd SBCT had 14 IED's blast his Stryker and I Still call him friend!

    God Speed!
    membrain said...
    Godspeed Ryan. Stay as safe as you can and keep your wicked sense of humour. I'll be thinking about ya.

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