4.15.2007

Picking Sand Out Of Your Nose

Yes, yes indeed, it DOES happen. Especially during the storms. And supposedly we haven't seen anything yet. Oh how awesome.

We've gone to a few rifle ranges, doing neat little things like that. Wearing lots and lots of costly gear that burdens us and makes us all make those precious pouty faces you all love.

At first, it was all sorts of sunny here, blazing hot (but not as hot as its gonna get, they keep on taunting us with similar phrases and ominous warnings). Other times, the wind picks up. A lot. And sand? Well its pretty light. Light enough to be blown all over the place. Light enough to be picked up on the bastardly wings of the bastardly wind and pretty much turn the air into the same color as the ground. You breathe it in, it gets in your mouth. It crunches between your teeth. It gets behind your eye protection. Makes you irritable. I mean like diaper-rash-irritable.

One night, wind included, a lighting storm broke out. You know in the movies, how the lightning is constant, and looks really cool? And you say to yourself, "Yeah, too bad it never actually does that." Well it did. It was all around us. It was awesome. At most, it would be ten seconds between flashes, but they were almost always more frequent than that. On every corner of the horizon. And almost no thunder. It was surreal.

Then the rain hit.

"Oh, but you're out of Fort Lewis, you know all about rain."

Fraid not, kids. Not rain like this. Fort Lewis has that wimpy constant drizzling rain. This was big ol' FAT rain. This was angry rain. This was rain meets super-pissed-off-wind meets lots of sand. Mud darts flying at us from the side. Wind so loud we can barely hear each other yelling. Trying to lay waste to silhouette targets through walls of moving dust and lifelessness. Yeah, good luck cowboy.

The next couple ranges we went to, we encountered camels. Everyone taking pictures. Joe and his buddy standing in front of camels. Look ma! These ain't just fairy tale aminals on my cigarettes anymore! They make noises like Scott Stapp from Creed if he had a really hoarse voice and only spoke in a strange hybrid of vowels. Its funny.

We did a little more urban combat type training, and since all the medics were in some class or something, guess who they had cover down on that job? A couple CLS guys. Having been through it four times, and being a driver, they had no problem designating me.

Everyone was given what's called SimRounds, or Simunitions or something like that. They look like normal bullets, namely the shell casing, but they have little tips of paint at the tip. Its basically like shooting pellets at each other. And yeah, there was the same old Good Guys vs Bad Guys game.

Anywho, I'm hanging out in the humvee with my good ol' pal, we're reading out of Tucker Max's book, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell and BSing, when one of the guys comes up to the vehicle and says he needs to be fixed up. He's got a small split on his cheekbone that's bleeding. Turns out he got shot right in the face with one of the sim rounds (and though they had facemasks, I guess it just wasn't enough. Caught the cheekbone perfectly). So I dab at it with an alcohol pad and provide idiotic assistance to an E6 that was also interested in patching ol' War Hero up. Yeah, after going through all the classes, it dawned on me that I had never even gone through a CLS bag to familiarize myself with where everything is. So I'm fumbling around looking for necessary Boo-Boo Fixer Uppers, looking like a complete dumbass. Oh well, atleast it wasn't paint in the eye.

That's all for now, I gotta drink more water, its never enough, and go do whatever they tell me to. Blogging from Tattooine, this is The Usual Suspect signing off.

2 Comments:

  1. Samantha B. said...
    awesome about the lightning, sorry bout the rain...did you at least bring your camera??

    I had a dream last night that Chad and I went to visit you in..uhh..Tattooine..and there were these shrinking machines all around the town there and Chad just haaaad to try it out. Turns out 3-inch-tall Chadders is pretty easy to lose in a foreign country. It was interesting. You were right about the sand though...he kept getting hit by grains of it.

    Yeeep, I know, random. What can ya do?

    -Sham
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