Thinking Out Loud

As my military career is over, I still sometimes find myself thinking back to some of the places I've been, and what I may have been thinking at the time. I remember back when I first enlisted. My first thought was that, "this is cool and different, and could be a blast." That thought was quickly replaced by, "What the hell was I thinking", and, "this is gonna suck!". But it got better after basic training. After technical training, I was made an Instructor and remember thinking, "I'm a bad ass", and "I'm a boss now." Quickly replaced again by, "You're the lowest on the totem pole", and, You don't know nothing about nothing". Then I came to the P.I. for my first "real" duty assignment. Working in Satcom, in a closely guarded compound, with 10 foot walls, and concertina wire, and attack dogs inside the fence. Then I made Staff Sergeant, and supervisor. I had good thoughts then, like, this job is important (which it is), and I'm well-trained, and now I have a career. None of which I could really say I had on the outside. Not at this level. It was awesome cool to be working in another country. I learned alot during that time. Then they sent me to Arizona (special duty). Sierra Vista to be precise. And an Army post. I have never been to a place so boring before.  I was then sent to Colorado Springs, CO. A very nice place that I liked very much. But, while there, I was sent to Desert Storm. It was as close to hell as I've ever been. I couldn't imagine having to grow up or live there. Nothing but sand, and some rocks, and sand, and more sand. It made me appreciate home in a totally different way that we usually take for granted. I remember thinking that maybe I wasn't going to see home again. But you try not to say those things out loud. I remember one night sitting on the ground by a wall, with my M-16, wondering why we were there. And you sometimes find yourself wondering about the guy next to you. What is his real story? Stuff like that. It's shocking how much you miss a good steak, a McDonalds cheeseburger, french fries, and beer. But mostly just plain missing home and friends and family. But I did get back home, and was transferred to Kadena, Okinawa. And was sent back again to the desert for Southern Watch. I was thinking, "What are you trying to do to me?". But I was only there for three months. Then I came back home again. I was thinking how much fun I was actually having being stationed at Kadena, travelling alot to mainland Japan and other countries. Playing golf and fishing. How many people get to do that at government expense? Then they sent me back again for Desert Strike. Playtime came to an abrupt halt. I remember thinking, three times is a charm. Not in a good way.  I was only three years from retirement. The odds were not in my favor. But I was a leader, a supervisor, and had troops to protect. I remember thinking that these young guys around me were just like me years back. I knew alot of what they were thinking and going through because I had gone through it too. Then, finally, it was over for me and I came back to Kadena. I was sent to Wyoming for my final year in service. It was nice and quiet there; boring for most, but ok for me. I ran a shop that was full of new people, not a single one of which had ever been overseas anywhere. All they wanted all day was to hear stories from me. They didn't really understand that I didn't want to talk about a whole lot of it. But, being that they were so young and curious, and hard to hold off, I told a few stories, which usually ended up with dropped jaws and stares. They continually asked me how many medals I had, which is normal for young personnel to ask, since they come in infatuated with getting medals. I told then I didn't think much about medals, or consider them really that important, which made them give me crazy looks. I told them one day they might understand. When they finally saw me in dress blues, all they could do was stare at my medals (18, if you are curious), and ask me how I got each one. I simply said, study your manual, and you will know what they are for. I was about to retire at that point, and the Commander had a talk with me. He said he wanted me to consider staying in, and that he would push through a "STEP" package for me. "STEP" means "stripes to exceptional performers", meaning that you can be given another stripe if you qualify. For me to accept this, I would have to stay in service for another two years, and they would give me a higher rank. I told him I really appreciated it, but it was time for me to hit the civilian world. I retired on 1 June 2000, and started to work for Harris Corp on 4 June 2000. I had a total of three days off. I got lucky in transitioning from the military to civilian world. Many are not that lucky. Sometimes I think that maybe I should have taken that extra stripe and stayed in longer. Where would I have gone, if anywhere? But I thought I had pushed my luck as far as I could. When you start to think like that, then it's time for a change.

So, here I  am, living in the Philippines. I already visited Guam and Hong Kong a few times. Can't seem to stop going places. One day it will all stop for me, as it will for you. That is one driving factor for me; to get in as much as I can, while I can. I sometimes think, "well, if nothing else, I've had a pretty adventure filled life". I guess that's more than most can say. It does give you memories. As with most people, many of my memories are triggered by something; it could be something I see or something someone says, and I flash back in time. Sometimes to memories I did not want to see again. But you can't control everything. When the bad memories flash in, I try to flush them out quickly. And when the good memories jump in, I sometimes try to enjoy them, and remember all the things attached to that memory. The places, the friends and faces, the adventure, and the laughs. Some people have no good memories, and I really do feel for them!