tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24386131588299806332024-03-14T07:58:49.158+04:30CorbinistanInspired by President Obama's message of change, hope, sacrifice and service, a 43-year old corporate professional joined the Army to serve in Afghanistan. After a one-year tour in Tarin Kowt, AFG he re-enlisted to deploy again; this time to Bagram, AFG. Here are his thoughts and observations on this second deployment.Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-57516077541144235652012-12-19T21:09:00.002+04:302012-12-19T21:12:25.068+04:30S H O U T O U T S ! ! !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hBq9Hct8szY/UNHqHlM-4tI/AAAAAAAAAsc/YbbrjjTqXEQ/s1600/Shout+Out+Snacks+20NOV12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hBq9Hct8szY/UNHqHlM-4tI/AAAAAAAAAsc/YbbrjjTqXEQ/s1600/Shout+Out+Snacks+20NOV12.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The contents of many Care Packages laid out in our mini mess hall - gone in two days!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">I know it has been a while since I posted an entry and
for all those who have been waiting with "bated breath and whispering
humbleness" (Google it) for an update, I apologize for the extended
hiatus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: white;">One of the main purposes of this
blog is to be an open letter to my family (i.e. my Mom) to keep them posted
(pun intended) on how I am doing while deployed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And since my Mom posted on FaceBook she
hasn't seen anything lately on Corbinistan.com, I thought I better get to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: white;">You see, I have always felt an accompanying
picture/graphic was important to highlight an entry and for the past little bit
it has been not so picturesque; quite dreary with overcast skies, cold rain
with corresponding mud - nothing really worth writing home about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: white;">But those at home, who send letters, cards
and Care Packages, have not been remiss in supporting deployed Soldiers and I
thought it appropriate to dedicate an entry highlighting those
individuals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: white;">So, on behalf of all the grateful
Soldiers to whom I have distributed treats and snacks, here are the individuals
and groups I would like thank for their fantastic support and generosity - I
will still try to send a snail-mail thanks to everyone, and hopefully some
readers have received the card and token of appreciation I mailed in the past
weeks, but until then, please accept my sincere thanks and gratitude in these
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: white;">S H O U T O U T S ! ! !<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Helen C. and the great Virgin Angels in SF, CA: Dola, Doreen,
Andrew, Joe, Nina, Grace, Tiera, Ashley, Rob, Andre, Dustin and Kristin (I hope
I got you all).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your letters are greatly
appreciated and the snacks you send I tend to keep mostly to myself but I
shared the great DVDs - our USO is going to have a "Mad Men" marathon
thanks to you all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just got a letter
today from Damian; best wishes for a Merry Miami Holiday!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Logan G. of London (very close to Corbin!), KY:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for your letter; you have good hand
writing for an 11 year old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not
married and do not have any children but I do get to spend some time with
children on Sundays at the Cat in the Hat Language Arts Center here at Bagram;
there are kids about your age who are learning English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, I do not know how to play Xbox
360 so when I get bored I tend to read a book on my Kindle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The type of gun I have is called an </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M249_light_machine_gun" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">M-249</span></a></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">;
I understand you are very curious about whether I have been shot at or if I
have shot someone - it seems that is a common question from guys your age (and
all ages) - but it isn't something most Soldiers like to talk about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can promise you it is nothing like TV or
the movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is getting cold here;
yucky and muddy but sometimes we get some clear skies with the sun glistening
on the surrounding mountains for a beautiful view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Afghanistan money is called </span><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=afghan+money&hl=en&safe=active&sa=X&tbo=d&tbm=isch&tbnid=0LivI9LY5opKyM:&imgrefurl=http://tripwow.tripadvisor.com/slideshow-photo/afghan-money-n1-kabul-afghanistan.html%3Fsid%3D15402002%26fid%3Dupload_12985985083-tpfil02aw-19739&docid=4wQVCNYl6afIjM&imgurl=http://images.travelpod.com/tripwow/photos/ta-00eb-0412-c13c/afghan-money-n1-kabul-afghanistan%252B1152_12985985083-tpfil02aw-19739.jpg&w=592&h=384&ei=rFbRUPD8DY3Y0QWXo4CQAw&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=2&vpy=127&dur=2178&hovh=181&hovw=279&tx=164&ty=76&sig=117198765093968458678&page=1&tbnh=131&tbnw=212&start=0&ndsp=25&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0,i:89&biw=1156&bih=866" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Afghanis</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
with one US Dollar equaling about 50 Afghanis; I will see about mailing you
some real Afghanis.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angel Lori W. of Katy, TX:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell your 76 year old Dad his card did make
me smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven't seen the Gangnam
Style dance yet but I am sure it is good exercise and hope your lupus does not
keep you from practicing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for
your efforts in writing to deployed Soldiers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://operationbuckeye.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Operation Buckeye</span></a></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
and Susan, Kathleen H., Maria S., David, Mary and Daniel J., Robin and Dan S.,
and Stephen G.:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Care Packages you
sent were great; the picture above is where I sorted the snacks into different
boxes in our mini-mess hall where a couple hundred Soldiers eat lunch each day
- everything was gone in less than two days!</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angel Leslie S. of Mill Hall, PA: Thank you
for being a troop-supporter since 2006!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is great you take time from being a full-time college student and Mom
to write to Soldiers; as a member of a large military family I know you know
how much it means to Soldiers to receive mail.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ American Legion Auxiliary, San Anselmo Unit 179 of San
Anselmo, CA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you Jan, Edna, Debra,
Lauren, Ellen and Girl Scouts of Northern California (Troops 32053 and 30729)
for the fantastic Holiday Stockings (and very nice home-made snowy holiday
cards)!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My favorites were the almonds
and beef jerky but the shaving gel was greatly appreciated as our PX here in
Bagram ran out some time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, the
hand/feet warmers were just on time, too; with the weather getting pretty
chilly in the evenings, the Soldiers on gate guard duty were very grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Estes Family of League City, TX:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The home-made cross necklaces were given to
Soldiers who were happy to wear them and the Christmas decorations were used to
decorate the "Rats Nest" a small Morale Welfare and Recreation
building where Soldiers go to shoot pool, play ping-pong and relax.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you very much for sending so much
holiday cheer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Karen D. of Simi Valley, CA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you and the kids for the great drawings;
if you look at the picture above, you can just make out one of the drawings
where they are decorating the walls of our mini mess hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The books were taken to the Cat in the Hat
and the snacks were quickly gobbled-up.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://www.thedesertangel.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Desert Angels</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">
of Auburn Hills, MI:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gate guards
greatly appreciated the snacks and candy from your packages while the books,
magazines and socks went to the USO where they were snatched up by Soldiers
from all over Bagram.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you very
much for your continuing support.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@</span></o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Anne W. of Cedar Rapids, IA: Thank you for the Snoopy
Letter; we heard all about Hurricane Sandy and hope everything is back to
normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our unit did not do much
particularly special for Halloween but there were some ghost and goblin
decorations as well as candy shared with everyone.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Si (Sonny) Tenenberg (former Marine - ongoing supporter
of Troops) of </span><a href="http://www.troopcarepacks.org/"><span style="color: white;">www.troopcarepacks.org</span></a><span style="color: white;"> and Janet, Silvana, Kathy, and Alyssa of First
Baptist Church of San Luis Obispo:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
green socks were a big hit and a pair went to several grateful Soldiers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The candy and snacks went into the boxes in
the picture above and were enjoyed by hungry Soldiers who were very happy to
get something special with their Army chow (well, maybe some of the beef jerky
and Slim Jims got stuck with me).</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angels Valerie and Chaplain Bill K. of Bronx,
NY!:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for the nice card as well
as your thoughts and prayers.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angel Patti McD. of Ravenna, OH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are right about the weather changing
here; from hot and dusty to cold, rainy and muddy; not many trees changing
colors but Soldiers are changing into beige fleece jackets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Dad was a Navy guy like your husband but
all of his sons went into the Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you for writing to deployed Soldiers and sharing your thoughts.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angel Melissa M. of Las Cruces, NM:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my brothers was born in Las Cruces but
it seems we only lived there long enough for him to come into the world and for
me to get tubes in my ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you
for the "Forget me Not" flower and for clearly caring so much about
Soldiers.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Julie B. of Salem, MA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your Care Package with Pringles, PB crackers, Swedish Fish and candy was
a big hit with all the Soldiers I shared the goodies although I kept the
oatmeal for myself - I get teased by some of my coworkers because I use hot
coffee to make the oatmeal but it sure gets me going in the morning!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also enjoy running, and like you, have done
a marathon but once is enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a
big fan of the movies and one of the things I miss most is going to
Friday/weekend matinees of opening films; it's a bummer to miss
"Lincoln", "Hobbit", etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you and your friends and family for supporting deployed Soldiers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationgratitude.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Operation Gratitude</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of
Encino, CA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you to everyone in
your organization for the great support of deployed Soldiers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Care Packages you sent were distributed
to Soldiers working at our warehouse where they have 24-hour operations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snacks and goodies were a great treat and
greatly appreciated.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Karen M. of Belmont, MA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for the healthy nuts and dried
fruit - I kept those for myself while giving the "donations" from Sir
Peter and Butterfly Kate's Halloween baskets to co-workers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not much of country music guy, but I
like the title "Two Days in November."</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Sharon G. of Woburn, MA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please tell Julie her efforts in coordinating
the TLC Packages are greatly appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I enjoyed the pictures of your furry "children" - particularly
Shelby's cool sunglasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We do have a Green
Beans Coffee shop here on Bagram but I am not familiar with the Cup of Joe for
a Joe program - although I am all for coffee!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My co workers sweeten theirs with sugar and cream but I take mine black.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for your support, thoughts and
prayers.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angel Gale R. of Cherryville, NC:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for your nice card - when I saw it
I thought the pottery was some sort of Mesopotamian artifact but it turned out
to be traditional Armenian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your
support, well-wishes and kind words are greatly appreciated.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Danielle, Cora and Daniel H. of Portland, OR:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The jerky and almonds stayed with me but the
Pringles, M&Ms and Pringles went to Soldiers on gate guard duty; thank you
very much for the great Care Package and nice Christmas card - it took me a while
to figure out the "25" on Santa's train was for the 25th of December.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Pat and Mac McCoy of </span><a href="http://www.yellowribbonsg.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Yellow Ribbon Support Group</span></a></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> in Palatine,
IL:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your generous Care Packages
contributed to the boxes in the picture above as well as to Soldiers on gate
guard duty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took the stuffed animals
to the little girls at the Cat in the Hat where they brought bright
smiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you very much to your
great support to deployed Soldiers.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Holli G B. of Owensboro, KY(!):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for the yummy snacks; I usually
keep Slim Jim type of things for myself but shared them along with the other
items.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have made good use of the
Chess game and play almost every day; your support of Soldiers, as well as The
Humane Society, is greatly appreciated.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Soldiers' Angels Dave and Daisy J. of Canal Winchester,
OH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for taking time away from
babysitting David and Sarah to send the nice card and letter; I hope Dave's
cane has a slip-proof tip to handle your ice and snow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationshoebox.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Operation Shoebox</span></a></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of
Belleview, FL:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The great variety of snacks
was distributed to numerous Soldiers and the toiletry items went to the USO
where they were grabbed up by needful Soldiers; thank you very much for your
ongoing support of deployed troops.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Katrina M. of Las Vegas, NV:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a certain Sergeant First Class whose
favorite treat is peanut M&Ms so she was very happy to get the ones you
sent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The soups and granola bars were
shared amongst Soldier's in my unit; thank you for your generosity.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ St Hugo Second Grade Brownie Troops 70874 and 70883 as
well as </span><a href="http://www.thedesertangel.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Desert Angels</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
of Bloomfield Hills, MI:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very
nice to see the picture of all the smiling Brownies but the best part of the
great packages you sent was the great hand-drawn Christmas card with the
decorated tree and Brownie waving hello under the American Flag; I taped the
card to my wall where it brings me a smile every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the great goodies went to our mini mess
hall and were enjoyed by hungry Soldiers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Joyce M. K. and Hibernia United Methodist Church of
Coatesville, PA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing says Christmas
like a colorful stocking stuffed with goodies!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am sure your son shared with you what is like for us here at Bagram
and your are 100% right it means very much to Soldiers to know that folks back
home are thinking of us; the prayers well wishes definitely help keep our
spirits up and make the days a bit brighter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you very much for your concern and care.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ The Military Support Group of Rhinelander, WI:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snacks, treats, and movies you sent were
shared amongst the troops and were greatly appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you very much for your care and efforts;
I know as Veterans you understand how important mail call can be and much
expressed appreciation means to a Soldier.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Kelli C. of Seobu-Myeon, South Korea(!):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very nice and quite a surprise to
receive your package from Korea!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
in Seoul many years ago and your note had me thinking about some yummy
yakimandu and bimbimbop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The strawberry
Oreos are still on my desk because the package makes me laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you enjoy your adventure in Korea and thank
you for the nice letter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Gilda and Tom M. and Maureen Corbin(!!) C. of The Dataw
Island Community in St Helena, SC:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank
you for the great package; I will take the gliders to the Cat in the Hat for
the boys - we just had a field trip to the air strip where they got to go
inside a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lockheed_C-130_Hercules" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">C-130</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
so it will be fun for them to put together and fly the gliders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>@ Maureen - there are not too many Corbin's
around so we must be kin somehow!</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Amanda C. Morrow J. of Amherst, NH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to be a complete Scrooge and keep
the bag of homemade holiday cookies you sent all for myself but I have shared
them with co-workers to enjoy with our morning coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you also for the decorations; we used
them to bring cheer to a new Sergeant's work area.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">@ Anyone I missed and did not address specifically: Thank
you very much for your support of deployed Soldiers; people here like to tease
me about the mail I receive but Soldiers like the ones who spend long hours on
guard duty in the cold and/or dark are extremely grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soldiers can be rough and gruff but they really
are very appreciative of the thought, care and efforts made by those who show
support with letters, cards and packages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Best wishes to all for safe and enjoyable holidays!</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fulBaz8QvtU/UNHtR3pOLqI/AAAAAAAAAss/GyJzRJrGBnc/s1600/Fleece.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fulBaz8QvtU/UNHtR3pOLqI/AAAAAAAAAss/GyJzRJrGBnc/s1600/Fleece.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(It's a fleece jacket....)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-50625550901555532332012-11-22T16:58:00.001+04:302012-11-22T17:00:58.901+04:30Best wishes for a...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_xhivZnrwM/UK4ZuTvFjII/AAAAAAAAAsI/qQqS2nbYcMg/s1600/Tanks+Giving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_xhivZnrwM/UK4ZuTvFjII/AAAAAAAAAsI/qQqS2nbYcMg/s1600/Tanks+Giving.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Click on the pic for best viewing!)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-64105341290047727902012-11-19T18:09:00.001+04:302012-11-19T18:09:45.725+04:30Marines 0; Army 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JVqxDZdvFUc/UKo0dv1YAgI/AAAAAAAAAr0/kuk_UYeSyN4/s1600/IMG_0487.JPG" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="239" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Specialist "Hutch" Hutchinson</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I mentioned, back in 1986, when I was a young Private
First Class stationed in Heidelberg, Germany, the US was still in the Cold War
with the USSR and the Arms Race was in full throttle with everyone stockpiling
atomic, nuclear and other weapons.</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To shield us from Nuclear, Biological and Chemical (NBC)
threats, every Soldier was issued a protective mask (gas mask) and special
clothing - which back then was called MOPP gear (Mission-Oriented Protective
Posture).</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You may have seen pictures or videos from Desert Storm of
Soldiers wearing gasmasks with black Mickey Mouse gloves and funny looking bulky
clothing that made them look they were wearing a Hollywood special effects fat
suit - that's MOPP gear.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">MOPP gear has different </span><a href="http://www.e-publishing.af.mil/shared/media/epubs/AFVA10-2512.pdf" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">levels from "Ready" to Level 4</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
depending on the threat - from: have your stuff ready; to: big mushroom
cloud on the horizon.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you might imagine, wearing MOPP gear is not something
Soldiers looked forward to but in the Army you need to ensure you know how to
wear and use your equipment - train how you fight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">One of the things every Soldier still does during Basic
Training is </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DwMmA0ZLYA" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">go through a gas chamber filled with tear gas</span></a><span style="color: white;"> (chlorobenzylidene-malononitrile,
if you want to get technical )</span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The main purposes being to ensure you know how to
put your mask on correctly as well as giving you an appreciation of how the
equipment protects you; secondary purposes are to give you a taste of what it is like to be gassed and for the great amusement of Drill Sergeants.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, you go in with your gas mask on, then, your Drill
Sergeant, who keeps his mask on, has you take yours off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been 29 years since I went through the
gas chamber and I still remember like it was yesterday.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Today, NBC has evolved to Chemical, Biological,
Radiological, and Nuclear (CBRN - pronounced<em> see-burn</em>); the Soldiers who become trained specialists in
this area are </span><a href="http://usmilitary.about.com/od/enlistedjobs/a/74d.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">74D</span></a><span style="color: white;">s.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Our unit's 74D is Specialist ("Hutch") Hutchinson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Married with two kids, SPC Hutchinson has been
in the Army for about two years and this is his first deployment - with the
Army that is; he is a former Marine who was deployed to Iraq as well as </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Djibouti" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Djibouti</span></a><span style="color: white;">
(that's in Africa, in case you were wondering.)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He told me he enjoyed the esprit de corp of the Marines
but likes the opportunities the Army offers; when he was in the Marines his job
was much more combat-oriented than what he probably will experience as a CBRN
Specialist.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you might imagine, there is not, (thank goodness!), a
great daily demand for CBRN services, so the 74Ds tend to have additional
duties and provide support in other areas.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aside from his CBRN duties, SPC Hutchinson also does
whatever needs to be done - from picking-up the Soldiers' mail from the Mail
Room, to overseeing headcount at the mess hall, to doing administrative tasks in the Orderly Room</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our Orderly Room, our unit, and the Army, in my opinion, is
fortunate SPC Hutchinson is with us and no longer a Marine - ever since I first met him
about a year ago, he has always impressed me as being a can-do Soldier with a
positive attitude and great military bearing: Marines 0; Army 1.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>S H O U T O U T S !</strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
and PVT Jacob L. of Columbus, OH: Thank you for the Care Package; the toiletries
went to our Orderly Room so all the Soldiers in our unit will have access and
the treats were shared amongst our Soldiers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Sharon S. of Westlake, OH: I enjoyed your letter and
story about Perch-flavored ice cream in Russia; thank you for your ongoing support.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
and David, Mary, and Daniel J. of Columbus, OH: I smiled when I saw Daniel's
signature on the card; thank you for the treats - I gave them to Soldiers on
Guard Duty.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Kay H. of Huntington, Beach CA:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your starfish postcard brought a bit of the
beach to the desert; thank you for writing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
and Jack and Nicole S. of New Albany, OH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you for the great Care Package - the Pringles in your Care Package
were greatly appreciated by my fellow Soldiers and I really like the
"energy" gum.</span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Helen C. and the Virgin Angels: Thank you for your
letters and the eclectic Care Packages - I really enjoy the colorful stationary
and, must admit, I am kinda selfish about your packages and keep most of the
items for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look forward to
meeting you all in person next June-ish.</span></div>
</div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-76570783617995664922012-11-12T17:58:00.001+04:302012-11-12T17:58:56.624+04:30Not just in November<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QoDcygeR3jY/UKD0z8tBq9I/AAAAAAAAArk/3Dp6lypCbik/s1600/IMG_0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QoDcygeR3jY/UKD0z8tBq9I/AAAAAAAAArk/3Dp6lypCbik/s1600/IMG_0464.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">96th ASB NOV12 Solder of the Month</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Specialist Bien-Aime</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">In 1986, I was 20 years old and serving with USAEUR 7th Army in Heidelberg, Germany. Ronald Regan was President and while his main geo-political focus was the Cold War with the USSR, things got hot with Operation El Dorado Canyon when the US bombed Tripoli in response to Libyan agents' terrorist bombing of the La Belle disco in West Berlin, Germany - killing three people and injuring around 230 people, including 79 American servicemen.<br /><br />Meanwhile, much closer to the United States (just over 700 miles), dictator Jean-Claude Duvalier (known as "Baby Doc") was being forced from power and exiled with General Namphy taking over leadership of the<br />country under a provisional military government.<br /><br />Around this time, a young 10 year old Haitian boy by the name of Emmanuel Bien-Aime, decided he wanted to someday be a Soldier so he could do good and help others.<br /><br />In 2010, Bien-Aime, then living in Massachusetts, fulfilled his childhood aspirations by becoming a Soldier in the US Army.<br /><br />Today, Specialist Bien-Aime is here in Bagram, serving on his first deployment while his wife and three children wait back in MA for his safe return.<br /><br />SPC Bien-Aime has always given me the impression of being a good Soldier, but this month, he proved to be the very best Soldier in the 96th Aviation Support Battalion (ASB) when he outperformed at least 17 of his nominated peers to win the November Soldier of the Month Board.<br /><br />A Soldier of the Month (SOM) Board does not really have a civilian equivalent, but think of it as an extremely intense job interview conducted by a panel of leaders who are doing their best to be very challenging and intimidating.<br /><br />Suffice to say, SPC Bien-Aime was judged on his military appearance and bearing while being grilled by 96th ASB First Sergeants on topics such as Army Regulations, Military Programs, world affairs, and the history of the Battalion as well as the 101 Combat Aviation Brigade.<br /><br />As the winner of the November 96th ASB SOM Board, SPC Bien-Aime distinguished himself above his peers and showed his potential as a future leader.<br /><br />In the picture above, SPC Bien-Aime is showing a MP3 player donated in a Care Package by Veteran and former Army leader, Sergeant First Class (Retired) Terry Brillheart of Austin, Texas.<br /><br />SFC Brillheart has generously sent me Care Packages with school items for the </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/CatInTheHatLanguageArtsCenter?ref=ts&fref=ts" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Cat in the Hat Language Arts Center</span></a><span style="color: white;">, treats and goodies I distribute to Soldiers, and items such as eReaders and MP3 players, which I give to very deserving Soldiers in recognition of their winning the 96th ASB monthly SOM Board.<br /><br />SPC Bien-Aime told me he recognizes SFC Brillheart's as someone who "has been there" and appreciates his ongoing support of the military.<br /><br />In this month of Veterans' Day, I echo SPC Bien-Aime's appreciation and offer my sincere gratitude for those who support deployed Soldiers with Care Packages, letters and cards - thank you for continuously keeping us in your hearts and minds, and not just in November.</span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: white;">S H O U T O U T S</span></strong></div>
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<br /><span style="color: white;">@ Kara and Phil T. of Houston, TX for the Big Easy post cards, the beef jerky (which I kept for myself), the granola bars and treats that I shared with my co-workers.<br /><br />@ Linda M of Tishomingo, OK for being a Soldier's Angel and sending mini PayDay bars (one of my favorites!), instant oatmeal for healthy breakfasts and maybe not so healthy chocolate puddings - I took to the gate guards who will be up all night in the cold.<br /><br />@ Lois L. of Streetsboro, OH for the Care Package of snacks and treats which I shared with the Soldiers who work at the supply warehouse.<br /><br />@ Jesse D and the Solera Residential Community in Beaumont, CA for the great box of apple sauce, crackers, nuts and writing materials; almost everything was distributed amongst very appreciative Soldiers - I kept the apple sauce for me.<br /><br />@ Vivian M and Ms Soto's Class - Thank you for the letters and the "thumbs' up" picture of everyone in your Halloween costumes. Vivian - I put your "CORBIN" letter on my wall</span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-765383633107709912012-11-03T13:17:00.001+04:302012-11-03T14:12:01.009+04:30The Next Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</span><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Last week I was talking to a 20-something Soldier who works in our Orderly Room (kinda like the Human Resources department) and when he asked how things were going, I quipped, "Just another Happy Groundhog Day."</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And he responded, "Oh, today is Groundhog Day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't know."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">"Noooo," I drawled, "I was talking about the movie; did you ever see that Bill Murray movie - '</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groundhog_Day_(film)" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Groundhog Day</span></a><span style="color: white;">'?"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">"Uh, I think I remember it," he answered.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">But, I think he was just humoring SGT Corbin - who often spouts non sequitors such as 'Do you know why the junior ranking Soldier is supposed to walk to the left of the senior ranking?' or 'Do you know how many little balls there are on your dog-tag chain and why?'</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">SGT Corbin sees these as teaching moments to pass on military history and tradition but sometimes thinks others might see them as SGT Corbin being a weird/know-it-all old guy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Anyway, it got me thinking about how in the early/mid-90s "Groundhog Day" entered the popular lexicon as verbal short-hand for monotonous repetition and was often used by military personnel but now seems to have lost some of its usage when the concept is really more appropriate than ever for deployed Soldiers.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is, by the way, is in no way an original or unique observation of mine, but just something I have been dwelling upon the last week or so.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In the movie, Bill Murray finds himself waking-up each morning only for it to still be the ‘same day’ - Groundhog Day; no matter what he does, or what happens, every day is a repeat.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For deployed Soldiers, it is a very similar experience with the days blending together - maybe being somewhat distinguishable by what was served at the Mess Hall (Thursday is Pizza Day, Friday is Steak Night, etc.) or perhaps Wednesday standing out for the Ground Maintenance Meeting.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">But even those 'landmark' events become fuzzy with week-after-week repetition. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>At first, it seems to make time go by faster and it seems like the deployment will be over and we will be back home lickety-split.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In the movie, Bill initially uses his infinite do-over days to figure out how to rob banks, play practical jokes and indulge his various appetites.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">But, eventually, the predictability and sameness without apparent end weighs heavily on Bill and he begins to devise various ways of short-circuiting the day by dropping a toaster in his bathtub or driving off a cliff.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For deployed Soldiers, once they are in an every-evening rut of 'Call of Duty' or simply being overwrought with the time left in the deployment and being separated from family, it can be a challenge to self-motivate and stay positive.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This period of time can really be tough on everyone - Soldiers and family - so it is very important to stay focused on the mission, to keep in touch with family and loved ones, to use the time in constructive ways for personal growth instead of the stagnation of spending all free time playing video games or watching TV.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Bill eventually broke free of his self-destruction cycle through the desire to have a relationship with love-interest Andie McDowell and used his déjà vu days to learn classical piano, to speak French and some pretty nifty ice-sculpturing skills. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He also learned about the people around him and how even the smallest thoughtful and considerate actions could have a great impact on others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So, if you are deployed, or know someone who is deployed, push yourself/your Soldier to positively combat the every-day ennui by strengthening relationships and doing things like volunteering at the USO or Cat in the Hat, taking on-line college or military courses, writing/practicing rhymes, working-out, or getting involved in unit activities.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">That way, we can be like Bill and get past Groundhog Day, stronger and better, to the next day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Helen C.& amp; the Virgin Angels - I really enjoyed reading about your KISS-adventures; all the letters are spirit-lifters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe next June I will be able to visit SF for some pampering and sushi.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Heidi& amp; Scott L. of Sidney, Iowa - Thank you for your note and the Comics; we get some via the Sunday Stars & Stripes but it is always good to get more laughs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Desert Angels of Auburn Hills, MI - As per the note in your generous Care Package I "opened and shared"; the "love, hope & prayers" was and is greatly appreciated.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Tom Y. of Poolesville, MD - The candy and treats went to Soldiers on Gate Guard, the books went to the USO library and the socks went to a Soldier next to me who really needed clean ones - pee-you (teasing).</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Yellow Ribbon Support Group & Pat and Mac M. of Palatine, IL - Thank you for the boxes of great treats and toiletries as well as the 'teddy bears' - the treats were immediately distributed to a number of Soldiers, the toiletries went to a distro area so they can be used as needed, and the teddy bears will definitely go to Afghan girls at Cat in the Hat.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Bobby S. of Hudson, Ohio - When I was in high school I was focused on girls and Frisbee, not sending Care Packages to Soldiers; thank you for the beef jerky and gum - I kept the jerky for myself and my 'neighbors' are happily chewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Good luck to Hudson High making the playoffs.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Pat G. of Pride Packages - I salute your Marine Veteran son and your on-going support of deployed service members; the candy, crackers and cookies were enjoyed by Soldiers in platoon and unit.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">@ Wendy V. of Mount Sterling, KY - Thank you, llama Grandma for your uplifting card and John's work on keeping military helicopters sky-ready.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-31878691546702413582012-10-23T18:25:00.000+04:302012-10-23T18:28:15.021+04:30Water Hog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">If you are a fan of Jeopardy, you may have noticed on more than one occasion the category of "Potent Potables" - which typically had answers (remember, in Jeopardy you get an answer and respond with a question) relating to alcoholic beverages - hence, the booze being the potent and<br />the potable (poh-tah-bull) meaning "drinkable".<br /><br />Here in Bagram, and just about anywhere else in Afghanistan, Soldiers are strictly forbidden to drink alcohol and while the local water may be potent, it's certainly not potable.<br /><br />All our potable water comes in half-liter plastic bottles which are ubiquitous (look it up) here as the rocks and dust.<br /><br />While individual bottles are available in every mess hall, also outside of almost every living quarters, work place, and various random spots, you will find a bus stop like structure housing a six-foot high stack of grab-and-go plastic-wrapped 12-packs - depending on the location, sometimes the stack is just plunked down in the open air. As the palletized stacks get consumed, about every two-weeks or so, a truck (civilian contractor) comes by with a new load.<br /><br />So there is plenty of potable drinking water; although the plain Jane flavor can get boring which is why many Soldiers' Care Package wish lists include those </span><a href="http://www.specialk.com/protein-water-mixes/pink-lemonade/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">little sleeves of flavored drink mixes</span></a></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> for their bottled water.<br /><br />But what about water for bathing, brushing and shaving?<br /><br />Well, like just about every other consumable item that makes life possible here, if not wholly bearable, it is trucked in on a fairly regular basis by, you guessed it, a civilian contractor, and stored on site. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Sometimes the storage container is a ginormous heavy-plastic bag that looks like Godzilla's own </span><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=hot+water+bottle&hl=en&safe=active&sa=X&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=FdQty6Zp_rlhzM:&imgrefurl=http://www.indyposted.com/148095/keep-your-pets-warm-in-winter/&docid=KUdzM1jaj7mMFM&imgurl=http://images.indyposted.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Hot-Water-Bottle.jpg&w=282&h=277&ei=0XaGUPGvKamB0QGis4HwCg&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=174&vpy=112& dur=1659&hovh=221&hovw=225&tx=107&ty=104&sig=117198765093968458678&page=1&tbnh=140&tbnw=137&start=0&ndsp=27&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0,i:76&biw=1286&bih=863" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">old fashioned hot water bottle</span></a><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but where we live there are up-right water tanks.<br /><br />If you look closely at the picture above of our water tanks, you should be able to read "Disinfected Non Potable Water"; which means heavily chemically treated to kill bacteria - depending on how "fresh" the water is, it can smell like you are taking a shower in rotten eggs.<br /><br />When we (sulphur) shower, wash our hands, flush the toilets (thank goodness we have 'indoor' toilets!) the water comes from those tanks - so, on the rare occasion, when those tanks go empty, so does the wash basin taps, etc., until the "Non Potable" truck comes and does a refill.<br /><br />What goes empty much more often and seems to take even longer to refill, is the much smaller tanks within the shower areas where the water is heated for our sinks and showers. With a whole bunch of Soldiers shaving and showering each morning, if you do not get yours at the right time, you can end up doing the chilly willy dance.<br /><br />Just like back home where you have people who seem to feel parking space lines are just suggestions and selfishly straddle, we do have a small minority of Soldiers who feel it is okay to full steam ahead on their showers.<br /><br />Most Soldiers, however, do what my ex-Navy Dad called a "Destroyer" shower: Get in; get wet; turn off the water; get soapy; turn the water on; get rinsed; turn the water off and; get out.<br /><br />Personally, I do my best to be quick about my shower and use minimal amount of hot water when shaving. But, I'll tell you, man, oh man, I can't wait to get back to the States and be a real water hog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationshoebox.com/"><span style="color: white;">www.operationshoebox.com</span></a><span style="color: white;"> - Mary H. and volunteers - The eight home-made treat bags were very nice and were distributed to Soldiers within my work area and were immediately opened and enjoyed; thank you for the gifts and your ongoing support of deployed Soldiers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;">@ Angela Wood of Fort Campbell - You are the greatest! The Met-Rx bars and almonds will be my lunch for weeks but the fantastic school supplies could make a life-time difference to the kids at Cat in the Hat - I will be taking the items this Sunday. You really are a wonderful person.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;">@ SFC Terry Brillhart, US Army (Retired) and Friends - Thank you very much for the thoughtful cards/notes; I hand-delivered a couple to Soldiers on Gate Guard but had enough that every Soldier in one of our Battalion's smaller company units was able to get a letter/card. The school supplies are wonderful and I will take them to CITH this Sunday. The MP3 players are very generous - my plan is to give one to the winners of our Battalion's Soldier of the Month Board for November and December - if the winner is amenable, I will post their pic and bio.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;">@ Helen C and the Virgin Angels: Damian, Dustin, Kristin, Andrew, Nina L., Joe and Ashley (hope I got everyone) - Thank you for the punny H'ween card and super Care Package; even if I had no idea who had sent it, just by the contents I would have known it was from SF. I mean, Miso Soup?!? I joke, but I went all Gollum-it's-mine-precious on the soup and gave everything else away (okay, I kept the Edamame, too). The mini-packs of M&Ms, almonds/nuts and Swedish Fish and caramels went into a box of other items I took to be distributed to Soldiers who do not get much mail.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;">@ Carl Corbin - My brother and Army Veteran; thank you for taking the time to get a package out - the Dr Seuss stickers are pretty cool and will definitely bring some smiles.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;">@ All above: I promise a written letter as well - Thank you very much for your care; it is truly appreciated!</span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-34298180408411856852012-10-16T19:13:00.001+04:302012-10-17T06:58:46.385+04:30Top Chefs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Top Chefs SGT C (Right) and SPC P (Left) (two of five of the day shift)</span></td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><strong>Up in the morning, 'fore day;<br />
I don't like it, no way.<br />
Eat my breakfast too damn soon;<br />
Hungry as hell, by noon.<br />
Went to the Mess Sgt on my knees;<br />
Said, Mess Sgt, Mess Sgt, feed me please.<br />
Mess Sgt said, with a big ol' grin;<br />
If you want to be One-oh-one, you gotta be thin.</strong></span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /><span style="color: white;">
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The above running cadence says "Mess Sgt" because that's where
Soldiers went to eat chow: at the mess hall.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">At least, they did when I first learned the cadence in Basic Training at Fort Lost-in-the-Woods, Misery (that would be Fort Leonard Wood, MO to you non-Army types) back in June of 1983.</span></div>
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<br />
</span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But when I came back into the Army in '09, when we were talking about the chow,
I kept hearing people refer to the "Dee Fack". I was truly puzzled
until I asked someone and they explained that the DFAC was the Dining Facility
- somehow, in the short 19-odd years I was out of the
Army, ‘mess hall’ changed to ‘DFAC’.<br />
<br />
I've been back in the Army for almost four years now and I still haven't made
the
adjustment; I still refer to the mess hall and do a mini-mental
adjustment whenever I hear someone say DFAC - just one of the many
things that sets me apart as an "old school" Soldier.<br />
<br />
Here in Bagram, and in most of Afghanistan, the people who cook/serve
the food and keep the mess hall clean are not Soldiers at all, but
civilians. Typically locals, eg Afghans, hired by whatever company the
Army has contracted to provide food services.<br />
<br />
There are several mess halls scattered throughout Bagram and each meal
is served for several hours - they almost all also offer midnight chow
(everyone still calls meals "chow" so why DFAC?!?) so there is plenty
of chances to
eat.<br />
<br />
The issue, sometimes, can be the time to eat. Where me and many of my
unit's Soldiers work is just far enough from the closest mess hall that
at lunch time it would take at least an hour to walk, wait in line, eat,
and walk back.<br />
<br />
Even though we are working an average of 10-12 hour days (I can just
hear some of the Soldiers here saying "you just work 10 hours?!?") taking
well over
an hour out the work schedule to get chow is just not acceptable and
could negatively impact the mission.<br />
<br />
So, since Mohammad can't get to the mountain (in a timely manner), our
leadership has arranged to bring the mountain to Mohammad - in the form
of Mermites.<br />
<br />
Not termites, not </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegemite" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">vegemite</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s, but
Mermites - large insulated aluminum canisters with a rubber gasket
between the lid and base; basically, military grade Tupperware.<br />
<br />
Twice a day, once for lunch and one for midnight chow, a handful of
Soldiers drawn from units working in the immediate area go
to the civilian mess hall and load up a truck with Mermites full of
something like Swedish Meatballs, Ham (usually there is two types of<br />
meat offered), macaroni and cheese, and corn. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They might also grab a
box or two of mixed fruits such as pygmy pears, Granny Smiths and
oranges. But they always bring back loads of various types of pies,
cakes and cookies.<br />
<br />
The Soldiers bring the chow back to a rectangular wooden building that
was commandeered and set-up with acquired dining tables and chairs along with
an electric cooler for drinks.<br />
<br />
They set-up the Mermites, lay out the desserts, ensure the cooler is
fully stocked, and open the door to the Soldiers who have already lined
up; hands-washed and ready to eat.<br />
<br />
After a couple of hours, the mess hall closes, gets cleaned, and the
mostly empty Mermites get loaded up and get returned to the civilian
mess hall.<br />
<br />
And the Soldiers who did all the hauling, serving and cleaning?<br />
<br />
Once the mess hall work is done, they go back to their real jobs; such as
</span><a href="http://usmilitary.about.com/od/enlistedjobs/a/94r.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">94R</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Avionic and Survivability Equipment Repairer
or </span><a href="http://usmilitary.about.com/od/enlistedjobs/a/15d.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">15D</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;"> Aircraft Powertrain Repairer.<br />
<br />
The mess hall tasking gets rotated so the same Soldiers have it just
about every day for a couple of weeks and then some different Soldiers take
over for a couple of weeks.<br />
<br />
But I have noticed a couple things stay pretty regular and consistent -
the service is always with a smile and a maybe a joke; the drinks'
cooler is constantly restocked; desserts are sliced and laid-out just as
quickly as they are put on plates and; the Soldiers obviously take pride in
doing
a good job ensuring their buddies are well fed.<br />
<br />
So, while they may not be cooks by trade or training, in my opinion,
those Soldiers are all Top Chefs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">S H O U T O U T S<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">@ Charity S. of
hockey fame – Your emails bring me a smile but the chocolate got a huge “yahoo!”;
the combo of treats was perfect and not melted at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept the beef jerky for myself but
everything else got distributed to people in my work area and a big box went to
the Medics and their “customers”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read
the magazines in one sitting and gave them to other hungry readers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Vivian and
the rest of Ms Soto’s Big Spring’s Elementary 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> Grade Class – glad
to hear you liked my letter and I look forward to receiving your art work.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">@ Kim W. of
Cheney, KS – a certain 1SG loves popcorn and workers in my area now have
PopTarts for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for
the sparkly black-cat and looking into supporting CITH – it is truly a good
cause.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ 10 y/o
Madeline of Knolls Afterschool Club in Simi Valley, CA – thank you for the
Halloween Greetings - scary blue-skull pirate!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: white;">@ </span><a href="http://www.forthetroops.org/"><span style="color: white;">www.ForTheTroops.org</span></a><span style="color: white;"> and volunteer
Catherine M. – the people who deliver the mail had me come to them for the
giant three boxes; every person in my Platoon got a box and there was two left
over I gave to Soldier’s in my Company; they all extend their sincere gratitude
for the Care Package and your ongoing support.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">@ Helen C.
and Dustin B. of the San Francisco, CA “Virgin Angels”; thank you for your
letters and sharing stories of your lives back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you click on the “send a package” link on
the upper right there is a list of current requests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please expect a snaaaaaaiiil-mail letter back
from me.</span></span></span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-81427767585235341092012-10-05T22:34:00.000+04:302012-10-08T18:48:23.494+04:30Books, instead of Bullets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my earliest memories is from around the time I was in 2nd grade; laying on the living room floor trying to decipher "Snuffy Smith"; "Maybe you should stick to the other comics," I remember my Mom saying when I asked her what "'nuff" and "Revenuer" meant.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my favorite childhood pictures shows me and my brother Carl, when I was around five or six and him around one or two, sitting side-by-side in a dark lime-green easy chair with an upraised 1970's paisley pattern: me reading an open Dr Seuss book in my lap and Carl monkey-see/monkey-doing with a comic book in his.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another Elementary School era memory is the many, many times me, Carl and Alex (another brother) sat on the floor next to the comic bookshelves of a local used bookstore while my parents browsed the dim-lit and dusty aisles of "grown-up" books. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dad usually gave us each a buck each to spend how we wanted - which meant the delicious dilemma of selecting and setting aside the best ones to take home while speed-read cramming as many others as possible. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most of the comics ranged from five cents to 25 so you could get quite a few for a dollar - and if you were a conniving shyster like I was, you could get a few more by convincing one of your younger brothers to trade you his dimes for your nickels, since they were bigger, until your Dad found out and gave you a week or two of zero dinero to teach you a morality lesson. (I <em>still</em> think I was teaching an invaluable lesson on caveat emptor.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I'm getting at, is I come from a family of (voracious) readers and it is very difficult for me to imagine living life not having the delightful pleasure - nay, the necessity - of reading.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Afghanistan, depending on what source you reference (I checked the Army, CIA and the UN), the literacy rate is around 35% - that's for males, females is about 10%. That means only one in three guys and one in TEN women can read or write their own names. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can you imagine? </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here at Bagram, there is a group of volunteers who are doing what they can to make a positive difference to those ratios: </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/#!/CatInTheHatLanguageArtsCenter?fref=ts" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Cat In The Hat (CITH) Language Arts Center</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The CITH mission: "<em>To empower the children of the Bagram and Parwan Provinces of Afghanistan by providing a nurturing, safe learning environment in which they are not only educated, but inspired to bring change to the country as the pioneers and stakeholders of its prosperity. Our efforts support the COIN </em>[COunter INsurgency - meaning, countering the propaganda of the Taliban such as: 'Americans are evil conquering invaders'] <em>effort in Bagram by showing the local Afghan population that the tenants of Bagram Airfield are supporting and caring for their children while providing the tools for innovation that will slowly matriculate into change for the well-being of all.</em>" </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The CITH is 100% volunteer and about 99% of them are military - Army, Navy and Air Force (probably Marines, I just haven't seen any - and I am doing my very best to not make any jokes regarding leatherneck literacy) - spending their very, very limited free time to run the program, teach, tutor, paint walls (with illustrations from, who else, Dr Seuss) sweep floors/take out the trash, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been spending about five hours each Sunday for the past month or so volunteering and am forming a slowly growing bond with an eight-year old little girl named Krishma (she's second from the left.) </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I got to tell you, I get all weepy inside sometimes at her obvious desire to learn and do well - her high-pitched little bird voice as we go over numbers, "Wun, doo, tree..", gets me every time.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I honestly look forward to Sunday all week long - it is the absolute highlight of my week. My roommate, who recently joined me, best described the feeling I get when he said he feels "absolutely cleansed and refreshed" after the classes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which are held on Tuesdays and Sundays; about twenty boys and twenty girls, each in separate classes/time periods both days - twenty kids is about all that can fit into the classroom at one time. On Tuesdays the kids are from the community right outside Bagram Air Field and on Sundays the two classes get bussed in from Kabul for a current total of about 80-kids each week. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I say 'current', because CITH is looking to expand to include a Thursday class for an additional twenty boys and twenty girls.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since it is all a volunteer effort and not an "official" endeavor, there is zero financing from the Military with every item of school supplies, from erasers to laptops, from crayons to backpacks, all being donated. The money ($400 a month - a Fortune!) paid to the local bus driver who picks up the kids from Kabul and brings them to the gate, comes from internal fund raising. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I know you are thinking, "Gee, SGT Corbin, what can I do to help support the CITH?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, I'm glad you asked. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can send an email to </span><a href="mailto:CITH.bagram@gmail.com"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CITH.bagram@gmail.com</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and ask for more details. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or, you can send some cash and, depending on how much you give, you'll get a pretty unique commemorative coin or patch in return.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or, if you are not comfortable sending cash, you can also send school supplies of any type; right now there is a Dire need for </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Top-Flight-Multi-Method-Primary-56415/dp/B003I86988/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1349454431&sr=8-1&keywords=elementary+tablet+paper" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">lined tablet paper</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> but just about anything you might find in an elementary room classroom, such as small toys, books, pencils, crayons, tape, color books, flash cards, etc. will go to good use.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where do you send the cash/stuff?</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Easy: Cat in the Hat, Bagram AFG, APO AE 09354. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or you can click on the "Send a package to Corbinistan" link, on the upper right of this page under my helmeted mug, for my address and I will gladly deliver the items when I go on Sunday. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">AND, I will give you a much-coveted "Shoutout" right here on Corbinistan. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For example, when I bid and won some Walt Disney comic books on eBay, once the seller found out I was ordering the comics for CITH (I'm not sure what he thought at first about a Soldier in Afghanistan bidding on "Donald and Daisy" comics), the most excellent <strong>SFC Brillhart 19D US Army Retired from Texas</strong>, not only refunded my money, in one package he sent twice as many comics as I "paid for" along with some small toys, and sent a second package with even more comics, cool toys and fun kid stuff. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This past Sunday, after each class, as the kids filed out of the classroom, I handed them a comic book of their very own to take home and enjoy - I probably could have warned them about not wasting their money on ordering the "Amazing Sea Monkeys", but I figured I would wait until this Sunday. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, in summary:</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I come from a family where growing-up, I distinctly remember the local bookstore calling my Mom to let her know there had been a new delivery of paperbacks. When I was grounded to my room, I would have to be dragged away from my Collier Golden Encyclopedias to come to dinner.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a deployed Army Soldier who carries a large automatic weapon, with live rounds, that I will absolutely not hesitate for a moment to use if ordered or the situation requires. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, once a week, I have a wonderful volunteer opportunity where I get to focus on books, instead of bullets.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;"><strong>S H O U T O U T S</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> & Connor S. of Lewis Center, OH for the great packages with fruit gummis, beef jerky and Pringles. I kept the beef jerky for myself but made several other Soldiers very happy as well.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> &Catie D. of Westerville, OH. I hope it won't be long before you get to sew your Girl Scout Silver Award for raising military awareness; the great snacks and treats you collected were greatly appreciated by the Soldiers who deliver mail and the ones who spend all day on Guard Duty.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ </span><a href="http://www.operationbuckeye.org/"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.operationbuckeye.org</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> & the May Family of Grove City, OH. All the yummy stuff from your box was shared with the different groups in my work area with my "next door neighbor" calling dibs on all the Starburst.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Kara T. of Houston, TX. Thank you for the letter and package - I had a couple of the granola bars for lunch and gave the coffee, crackers and candy to Soldiers who work in the supply warehouse. I hope you and your husband you have a good time in NO but leave the cats at home; they can be real party animals.</span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-84647201265397991962012-09-25T19:11:00.002+04:302012-09-25T19:11:42.093+04:30Air Supply<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_SxBmLZJlxs/UGGuWG6CYgI/AAAAAAAAApc/l5TdYT6SHTQ/s1600/Air+Supply.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_SxBmLZJlxs/UGGuWG6CYgI/AAAAAAAAApc/l5TdYT6SHTQ/s320/Air+Supply.gif" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SSG Johnson</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I decided to come back into the Army the beginning of 2009, part of the process was sitting in the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) to select the Military Occupancy Skill (MOS), or job, I would be trained in and do once I, hopefully, passed the physical and other exams.<br /><br />For some reason, people who are 'prior service' - those who have previously served in any of the Armed Forces - are offered fewer job selections than a 'first-timer'. Maybe the Army figures if someone is crazy enough to want to come back into the service, even after knowing what is like to be in the military, that person will take whatever job is offered.<br /><br />Whatever the reason, when I sat down with the career counselor at the MEPS, I was offered about seven different MOS' of which only one or two were truly realistic. I mean, c'mon, an overweight 43-year old guy being a </span><a href="http://www.goarmy.com/careers-and-jobs/browse-career-and-job-categories/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">19D Combat Cavalry Scout</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">? Not saying I couldn't have done it, but I probably would have needed a </span><a href="http://www.corbinistan.com/2012/09/good-hands.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">68W</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> by my side to keep me alive through the training.<br /><br />Anyway, one of the MOS' offered to me was </span><a href="http://www.army-portal.com/jobs/quartermaster/92y.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">92Y Unit Supply Specialist</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Since my civilian background was heavily involved in logistics, I seriously considered being a Yankee (how the related MOS I did choose, </span><a href="http://usmilitary.about.com/od/enlistedjobs/a/92a.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">92A Automated Logistics Specialist</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> , refers to 92Ys - everyone else just calls them Supply). But in its own way, Supply can be just as challenging as any combat role.<br /><br />Supply reports directly to the unit Commander and First Sergeant so they get plenty of face-time with the boss, which, as you know, can be good and/or bad.<br /><br />Everything from paperclips to bullets, uniforms to MREs, desks to HUMVs, computers to weapons are requested, tracked and issued through Supply - the service Supply provides is like air, you don't realize how much you appreciate it until there isn't enough, or even worse, none.<br /><br />Another thing about Supply is for all of the tremendous responsibilities they have and how critical they are to the success of a unit's mission, it is not uncommon at all for there to be only one Supply Noncommisioned Officer in Charge (NCOIC) and maybe one or two Supply Clerks. It is no understatement to say Supply is one of the hardest working sections in a unit.<br /><br />For instance, here in Bagram, our unit has one Supply Clerk and one Supply NCOIC; Staff Sergeant Johnson. SSG Johnson has been serving in the military since 1988 - 19 of those years Active duty - and has been deployed four times. Along with his one Supply Clerk - Specialist Johnson (no relation, as far as I know - and too shy for a picture) - SSG Johnson ensures our unit's personnel have a great air supply.</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial;"><strong>S H O U T O U T S</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">@ Operation Buckeye; Boy Scout Troop 428 in Powell, Ohio: Thank you for the great box of treats, sweets and toothpaste for teeth! I kept the package of beef jerky for myself, gave the fruit gummis to someone in my platoon who loves them, and the rest of the box went to the Soldiers who spend all day outdoors on guard duty. @ Connor S. of Operation Buckeye - a snail mail is on its way to you.</span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-90511435824842314282012-09-19T09:08:00.002+04:302012-09-19T09:08:23.001+04:30Good Hands<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t4HcRF_P0Zs/UFlFzrJbdOI/AAAAAAAAApM/d8pPKnCiiXs/s1600/Good+Hands.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t4HcRF_P0Zs/UFlFzrJbdOI/AAAAAAAAApM/d8pPKnCiiXs/s320/Good+Hands.jpeg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">SFC Urriola, PFC Berger, SFC Robinson</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">In the civilian world, if you are not feeling well or
maybe stayed up a wee bit too late watching a football game you just had to see
who won, you might <em>call in sick</em> and maybe get out of going to work that
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">In the Army, where things can be just the opposite of the
civilian world, if you are not feeling so hot, you go <em>on sick call</em>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">However, unless you are seriously injured or sick, e.g.
bleeding profusely from an existing/new orifice or exhibiting a consistent high-fever,
chances are you will end up being sent back to work - your supervisor may cut
you some slack and let you take the rest of the day off but that's typically a
case-by-case basis.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Sure, just like in the civilian world, there are people
in the Army who seem to always have some kind of ache, pain or complaint and
are always at some kind of medical appointment, but it is usually pretty easy
to see which ones are really sick or injured and the ones who are just taking
advantage of the system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">In the civilian world those chronically faux-ill
individuals might eventually get fired whereas in the Army they might not get
fired, but chances are (particularly in today's down-sizing military) they
would not be given the opportunity to reenlist; in some blatant cases of
malingering, they could actually be administratively removed from the service.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">
<o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Most Soldiers, however, have just the opposite
problem where unless they are initially seriously injured or sick, tend to wait
until a medical issue is so severe they are forced by their peers or supervisor
to finally go on sick call and see a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/68W" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Health Care Specialist (68W)</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: white;"> - universally called a medic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yep; just like in the movies.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">All Army medics initially go through about four-months of
very intensive medical training and continue training throughout their military
career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While they may later
individually branch off into specialties like ear-nose-throat or optometry,
almost all medics spend the first year or two of their careers working in sick
call where they receive hands-on experience treating Soldiers while being
overseen by well-trained and experienced supervisors.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Here in Bagram, our medics include Private First Class
Berger; who has about two-years in the Army and is on his first
deployment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His well-trained and
experienced supervisors include Sergeant First Class Urriola and SFC Robinson,
who have 18 and 11 years in the Army, respectively.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, while I am on this deployment,
if (knock on wood) I need to go on sick call or receive medical treatment, I know for a fact I'll be in good
hands.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><u><strong>S H O U T O U T S !</strong></u></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">@ Angela Wood of Fort Campbell, KY(!) - Thank you very much for the generous portions of Met-RX Bars and the laundry bag; that was really super kind of you; I hope you will let me take you and your husband out for a drink when I get back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span style="color: white;">@ Packages from home.org - The wonderful package of treats was quickly divided up and enjoyed by many Soldiers; thanks to your great organization. (Friends and family of Soldiers can request a package be sent at PFH's website </span><a href="http://www.packagesfromhome.org/request-a-package"><span style="color: white;">www.PackagesFromHome.org/request-a-package</span></a><span style="color: white;">)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">@ Kim W. of Cheney, Kansas - You must know military people because your package was a perfect combination of treats, hygiene items and neccesities such as laundry soap. The peanut butter/cheese crackers went to the Soldiers on gate guard and the other treats were distributed to others but I kept the Iburprofen for myself! Please keep an eye out for my thank you letter.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">@ Charity S. and the Woodbine Baptist Church of Summersville, WV - The FOUR packages you sent were extremely generous and very much appreciated by numerous Soldiers. My roommate grabbed the bags of Double-bubble bubble gum and the candies were divided amongst a dozen or so Soldiers. The beef jerky and Crystal light packages were also a big hit. I sent you an email but it may have gone to your spam folder; I also sent you a snail mail.</span></span></div>
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Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-46737246078796274802012-09-11T17:55:00.003+04:302012-09-12T11:52:41.198+04:30Super<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9AIPY86DjSk/UE86JsBiDvI/AAAAAAAAAo8/rGj5z4P6Sts/s1600/Swisher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9AIPY86DjSk/UE86JsBiDvI/AAAAAAAAAo8/rGj5z4P6Sts/s320/Swisher.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<span style="color: white;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you might imagine, military units do not deploy all at
once, all together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like Army Ants, they
move in waves with scouts which go forward to clear the way and get things
coordinated and arranged like, oh, say, places for the forthcoming Soldiers to
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Typically, there is one person in the advance party who
ends up responsible for the living quarters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This person is the one who keeps track of the empty or soon to be empty
rooms and the assigning of rooms/room keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That same person is usually the point of contact for maintenance issues
- the one you go to when the air conditioner doesn't work (yes, we have A/C) or
if the electricity is fritzzy or if there is a leak, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you were living in someplace like NYC or Boston, they
would be called the Super and their full-time job would be taking care of the
building and the tenants' needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
Army, that person is usually called the Mayor.</span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, when me and about a hundred of my 101st CAB buddies
arrived in Bagram a calendar line or two worth of days ago, it was late at
night and we were still lagging with time-zone differences - we just wanted to
know where we could stow our stuff and hit the rack - preferably in whatever
space we were going to be staying in for the duration as we had been in transit
for several days and wanted to be able to finally fully unpack and get settled;
we were looking for the Mayor.</span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we found out Staff Sergeant Swisher, whose real job
is the Battalion Safety NCOIC, was the one with room assignments and keys, we
swarmed around him like, well, ants - crawling over each other in an effort to
get a room and a bed.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">It was about 0100 local time (that's one o'clock in the
morning to you civilian types) so it was dark out and, in typical Army fashion,
a bit of controlled chaos (initially, maybe not so controlled) with Soldiers
from various units within the 101st CAB hooking-up with their respective chains
of command and trying to sort out where who was going where.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each Soldier also had at least three large, heavy bags
they were trying to keep their eyes on as well so there was an obstacle course
of piled duffle bags and ruck sacks.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, did I mention each of the buildings "yards"
consist of baby-fist-sized gravel?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
100+ Soldiers walking around in combat boots on the rough stones added a
constant grumbling white noise that sounded like someone crunching Styrofoam in
your ear, which contributed to the general confusion by making it difficult to
hear what anyone was saying even if they were right next to you.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a bit more controlling of the chaos by First
Sergeants and a lot of work on SSG Swisher's part, almost everyone eventually
got a place to sleep for the night - even if it wasn't where they were going to
be permanently - just in time for the next wave of Soldiers to arrive, bags in
hand, tired and looking for their room and rack so the whole process started
once again.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The "next" day (really just later the same
day) SSG Swisher went door-by-door giving Soldiers their permanent assigned
rooms and keys so they could finally unpack for real.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the next few days and up to today, I have seen SSG
Swisher almost everywhere: assigning rooms and keys; cleaning out rooms so
Soldiers would have a place to stay; meeting with electricians and air
conditioner mechanics so Soldiers would have lights and A/C and; in his office
doing his "real" job - the Mayor gig is an additional responsibility
he has to his normal duties.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the things that impressed me that first night and
since then, is how SSG Swisher, a 15-year veteran who has been to Iraq nine
times (and is married with five kids), maintained a cool demeanor and a
constant attitude of service - ensuring all Soldiers were taken care of by going
the extra mile and working all and very long hours.</span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In fact, if you were to ask me to describe SSG Swisher in
just one word, it would be: "Super."</span></div>
</div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-72043005402893886372012-09-04T13:16:00.000+04:302012-09-04T13:19:30.391+04:30Running Man<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-365TVDR2fiY/UEW-t4VJjnI/AAAAAAAAAos/Pccy26SCHGk/s1600/Hindu+Kush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-365TVDR2fiY/UEW-t4VJjnI/AAAAAAAAAos/Pccy26SCHGk/s320/Hindu+Kush.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">In case you didn't immediately check out the geostats of
Bagram via the link I provided in my last post, the base is located in a valley
amongst the Hindu Kush (Hindu Slaughter - more on that some other day)
mountain range and has an elevation of approximately 4,895 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To put that in perspective, there are 5,280
feet in a mile.<o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Fort Campbell is at approximately 544 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making the difference between Bagram and Fort
Campbell about 4,350 feet; or, the approximate elevation of my home town of
Salt Lake City, Utah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meaning, if you
add Salt Lake to Fort Campbell, you get the Bagram elevation - about three
hundred feet short of a mile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">As you might imagine, the air is considerably thinner
here than what we are used to at Fort Campbell and it takes a bit of time to
acclimatize to the change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured a
week would be enough time for me to adapt and I decided to go for my first run
yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew there was a mile-loop
within our area where many Soldiers do their PT, but I wanted something a bit
longer without making multiple laps and figured I would try out the four-mile
loop one of the soon-to-be-departing 82nd Airborne Soldiers told me about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Around 0530 I oriented myself on the sun to make sure I
was tracking the compass points in relation to our living quarters and began my
run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took the first left-turn, as I
thought the 82nd Soldier indicated, and hit a nice long stretch around a mile
long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After about two-miles I knew I had
gone well past our area but figured I would eventually come to the left turn
that would loop me back so I kept on going - there were vehicles and other
Soldiers on the road so I was not too concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">After about three miles I was beginning to get a bit
concerned since I seemed to be heading further east - the opposite direction of
where I wanted to return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still
passing Soldiers and vehicles but there didn't seem to be any roads heading
back to where I wanted to go; "Good grief", I was thinking to myself,
"this is going to turn into an eight-miler."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">The topography of the area is a bit like a very rumpled
bed with rolling hills and dips so I couldn't depend on line-of-sight for
orientation - I was basically tracking the sun and the departing/arriving
aircraft from the airstrip to keep myself from going too far off the
reservation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">I was feeling the burn but finally came to T-intersection
in the road where a left-turn looked like it would take me back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I took the left and began heading down the
straight road - that appeared to bend to the left about two-miles down.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">At this point, I had been running for about 50-minutes, had
already gone at least five miles and was thinking I should only have to go a
few more to get back; I was feeling the classic symptoms of altitude sickness
such as fatigue/weakness, shortness of breath and I was a bit dizzy and
light-headed, but, hey, that's how an old guy like me feels after running five
miles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">About 500 meters, or about a third of the way, down the
straight-away, I realized there weren't so many vehicles passing me any longer
and I hadn't seen any Soldiers in a bit either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wasn't really concerned; more mad at myself for obviously missing a
turn somewhere and figuring this long run was what I deserved for not paying
attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Then a white vehicle approached me, slowed down, and
stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the Military
Police.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">They rolled down the front passenger window and the
driver asked me if I knew this was a "No PT route".<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">"No," I answered, "I have only been
in-country for a week and this is my first time running out here."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">She replied, "Well, there is a sign posted saying
this road is a non-running route: this is called Sniper Alley."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">"Oh," I said, "That doesn't sound
good."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">She told me to get in the vehicle and she would give me a
ride back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was very grateful as after
I had stopped to talk with them, my body flooded with exhaustion and I could
barely catch my breath.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Well, it seems a ride back meant just 500-meters back to
the T-intersection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They dumped me out
there, and to add insult to injury, proceeded on the way I needed to run to get
back.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">As my Dad would say, "Those dirty rotten, ratzzle,
frazzing, grrmmble!"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">I really was beat by then and ended up mixing-up a bit of
walking with my running but after around two-miles, I found the left-turn (now
a right) I had originally missed - it was about at the two-mile mark from where
I had first started - and finally ended up on the one-mile loop.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">After a little over 80-minutes of running and at least
eight miles, I finally straggled back to my living quarters where I drained two
bottles of water and collapsed on my bed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am Very grateful I learned the name of "Sniper
Alley" from the MPs (and the lift, short as it was) instead of personal
experience and I am going to be much more careful about my routes, but I am
still going to keep running, man.</span></div>
</div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-86872688703493197842012-09-02T11:33:00.000+04:302012-09-02T13:04:58.481+04:30Bag(ram) in the Saddle Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zZS_DPYiGtY/UEMBZLU_RHI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Ipthhk01UOQ/s1600/In+the+BAG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zZS_DPYiGtY/UEMBZLU_RHI/AAAAAAAAAoc/Ipthhk01UOQ/s320/In+the+BAG.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In early 2009 when I was contemplating rejoining the Army after 19-odd years
of the civilian world, my family, friends and professional colleagues
uniformly expressed various degrees of disbelief and dismay - the latter
mostly by my Mom and only increased by the fact one of my main reasons of
enlisting was specifically to serve in Afghanistan.<br /><br />After deploying to
Tarin Kowt, AFG for a year and safely returning, it seemed the expectations
of my family (eg Mom), and the corporate headhunters who continue(d) to
inundate me with emails with job offers, were that I would complete my
four-year enlistment/mid-life crisis and return to my old life and the "real"
world.<br /><br />But while the Army has drastically changed since I left Active
Duty in 1991 and at times it has been personally Very challenging for me to
live an Army life, the basic reasons I rejoined the Army remain
unchanged and, if anything, have become more focused: I want to serve my
Country; I believe in the </span><a href="http://www.army.mil/values/" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Army Values</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> as well as the </span><a href="http://www.hood.army.mil/ncoa/NCOCreed.aspx" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Creed of the Non-Commissioned Officer</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and; I
believe I CAN make a difference.<br /><br />So, in order to deploy for nine
months, once again with the very finest </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/101CAB#!/101CAB" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">101st Combat Aviation Brigade</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, I re-enlisted for
two more years of Active Duty service.<br /><br />This time around I will have a different job,
different responsibilities and will be in a different location - </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagram_Airfield" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bagram</span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> but
look for the same result: successfully completing the mission and safely returning home </span><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to a
celebratory sushi and champagne feast.<br /><br />When time and internet
connectivity permits, I will post my thoughts and observations, with photos
when possible, which I hope you enjoy reading and seeing. Please let me know
if there is anything you are particularly interested in and, pending
</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operations_security" target="_blank"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OPSEC</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">
considerations, I<br />will do my best to respond.<br /><br />And, just in case you are
just itching to send a </span><a href="http://anysoldier.com/WhereToSend/DynamicMinus.cfm?SEQNO=91517&popup=no" target="_blank"><span style="color: white;">Care Package</span></a><span style="color: white;">...<br /><br />Meanwhile, I'm Bag(ram) in the saddle again.</span></span></div>
</div>
Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-34206636722396212162010-12-10T18:45:00.010+04:302010-12-12T04:19:27.940+04:30Heat Leech<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TQQMhsVRYrI/AAAAAAAAAnw/l9X59E0iY1Q/s1600/Muppet.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TQQMhsVRYrI/AAAAAAAAAnw/l9X59E0iY1Q/s320/Muppet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549574413802889906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TQQMhXmaH7I/AAAAAAAAAno/qZ6BRYVOP14/s1600/Fleece.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TQQMhXmaH7I/AAAAAAAAAno/qZ6BRYVOP14/s320/Fleece.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549574408237621170" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It is not as if it was 100 degrees one day and 24 the next; as the months passed-by the days progressively grew shorter, the nights longer and both, colder.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The last week or two I have been unable to pretend the cold didn’t bother me and have added ‘Fleece, Jacket – Cold Weather’ to my daily wear. I probably could/should have been wearing it sooner, but there is something about the weird light green color and the slightly velour texture which makes it look to me like it is made from skinned Muppet monsters.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It used to be my morning breakfast routine was a Met-RX power bar (the apple one is like eating a slice of pie) and a couple of waters. Now, to help keep warm, I have two packets of the very yummy organic instant oatmeal my sister-in-law sent me and some nice herbal tea from Corbin-kin in Wisconsin – where they know cold.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Just before we moved from the last of the heat to the cool, a soldier from another unit transferred into our section to help address a personnel deficit due to soldiers’ term of service ending and their going back to the States.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Our resident harlequin jested how it was nice and warm until this new guy showed-up and brought all the chilly weather, “Wasn’t cold until you got here, it must be all your fault.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >For some reason, probably my age making me decrepit, it brought to my mind a memory of being a wee little guy laying flat-out on my belly reading a comic-book on our dark-green, up-raised paisley patterned, 1970’s couch. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Wearing just my tighty-whities and deeply into the world of the Fantastic Four when a weight landed on my butt and legs followed immediately by two zombie-hands latching onto my back – instantly forming ringed patches of eldritch frost.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Ahhhhgh!”, I remember yelling.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Oh, you are sooo warrrrrrmmmmmm,” my bloodless Mother crooned behind me.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Heat leech! Heat leech! Da-a-a-ad, help, hellllp!”, I cried out.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Ohh, no,” he yelled back from their bedroom, “you are on your own; she will be after me next.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Moments later, with all my youthful warmth and vitality drained, Mom got up and begin searching for her next victim. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >My younger brothers, warned from my original out-cry, turned off their bedroom light – making their defensive line of scattered caltrops of toys and such practically impenetrable. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" > I found enough energy to get to my bed and shiver myself back to somewhere around 98.6.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >While it is pretty chilly here, and it takes a while for the combined efforts of the sun and our small heaters to warm up our work tent, I count my blessings when I think about my Dad living alone with, and completely at the glacial mercy of, the Heat Leech.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >S H O U T O U T S</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Thank you <b>Donna Doll</b> for the fantastic Hickory Farms package; summer sausage, cheese and spicy mustard made for some crumb-covered happy faces.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Eastside High School Interact Club</b> in Covington, GA sent a nice and appreciated holiday card.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Carla M.</b> (Wisconsin Corbin-kin) spearheaded a collective effort to send great Care packages with herbal tea, jerky, trail mix and very festive decorations. Thank you also to <b>Larry & Debra B</b>., <b>Brooke S.</b> and <b>Rick</b> for the very thoughtful greeting cards.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Angela G.</b> from Corbin(!), KY, sent several cards and email notes; always a heart-warmer. Still nothing from <b>Logan </b>(dog gone mail!) but I promise to let him know when it arrives.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Mary R.</b> from Saugus, CA, generously included a calling card within her thoughtful holiday card.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Thank you <b>Hillary S. </b>in PA for the colorful holiday card and the fantastic Care package; it was devoured by the troops (the care package, not the card.)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >My sister-in-law, <b>Beth</b>, rescued me by sending a can-opener and nail clippers so no cans of tuna are safe and my toe nails no longer quite look like they belong to a cadaver.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Barb</b>, from <a href="http://warmthforwarriors.com/">Warmth for Warriors</a>, sent a very nice hand-knitted beanie-cap I wear at night in my room as we are not allowed civie clothes out and about; I will definitely be taking it back to the States for wear the years to come.</span></p>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-42265931766189825202010-11-26T19:02:00.006+04:302010-11-27T06:01:41.649+04:303-Minute Fiction<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TO_RLHfgKEI/AAAAAAAAAng/6UXeYwXMrBI/s1600/Quill%2Band%2BPaper.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TO_RLHfgKEI/AAAAAAAAAng/6UXeYwXMrBI/s320/Quill%2Band%2BPaper.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543879655236315202" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">National Public Radio (NPR), my mainstay for news and information, recently held their fifth annual "<a href="http://www.npr.org/series/105660765/three-minute-fiction"><span class="Apple-style-span">Three-Minute Fiction</span></a>" contest where <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; ">they ask for original works of fiction that began with the line, "<i>Some people swore that the house was haunted,</i>" and ended with the line, "<i>Nothing was ever the same again after that</i>."</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Another rule was the submission had to be around 600-words; or be able to be read on the air in about three-minutes - hence the name.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The other main rule was the submission could not have been previously published (including blogs). However, since I did not win the contest (boo-hoo), I am now able to share with you my submission. It is a bit silly, the tenses are bit off, and it is probably more appropriate for Halloween than Thanksgiving, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.</span></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Night Light”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Some people swore that the house was haunted. But most people figured the late-night lights and occasional sounds from the abandoned corner building on top of the knoll were kids messing around and no one really gave it much thought.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Which is probably why Jack's text says to meet him there at midnight if I ever want to see my i-Pod again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The jerk. The football Neanderthal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I can see a glow from the second floor so I slip through the front door and move to the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I begin stepping lightly and closely to the wall as I can so the prickly wooden steps do not squeak.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The flickering light is coming from down the hallway; it looks like candlelight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >He knows I am coming so I run down the hall yelling “Jaaaaaaaaaack, you jerrrrk! Give meee myyy i-Pooood!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Bursting into the room I run right into him and we both go down in a surprised tumble; me on top of Jack so I see his face as we fall and when the back of his head hits the fireplace stone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I jump up and Jack stays down. He is groaning and rolling his head. I think I see a dark spot that could be blood but it quickly disappears into the rough grey stone and I am not sure because now the dusty old clock on the mantel is bonging and distracting me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Jack is sitting-up and I grab him by the arm to pull him to his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Then I punch him in the shoulder as he is saying, “Kate, it was supposed to be a surprise.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Looking where he points I see the table, the chairs, the candles, the dinner, the care.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I am smiling, thinking, “Oh, Jack, you big jerk.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >And the clock is getting louder. It seems the glass face is bulging out on each stroke and I am feeling a pressure to my ears like I am on the bottom of a pool.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It is midnight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >A silent explosion of oily negative night is shooting up behind Jack. It is nasty and shimmery like gasoline on tar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >My eyes go round and Jack turns to see what and a finger-spear silently shoots from the bubbling black mass through Jack’s shoulder and he is yelling in pain when he shoves me away and falls to his knees.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >My face is burning and I can no longer hear anything except for a roaring in my ears as I watch the darkness pierce Jack through the wrist, his waist, and arm. It is pulling him closer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I am screaming, I am raising my arms, and I am burning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I am incandescence against the roiling blackness that is shrinking away from Jack. Back to the fireplace. Back to where it came. Until it is gone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >And I am falling to the floor. Spent and empty.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Jack’s arms are sliding under me. We are floating down the hall, the stairs, and out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >He is whispering in my ear how much he loves me and will never leave me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Nothing was ever the same again after that.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">S H O U T O U T S</span></span></b></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Thank you to <b>Angela G.</b> of Corbin(!), Kentucky for many emails of encouragement, a great Care Package, and letters from fifth graders; each of whom I have written back and include:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Erik W.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Trevor W.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Crystal B.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Brian D.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Mary H.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Jathan C., and</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Shawn D.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Much appreciation to <a href="http://www.treatsfortroops.info/"><b>Treats for Troops</b></a> for a HUGE box of Halloween candy that was much appreciated by many soldiers.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The rock-star of Care Packages, <b>Donna D.</b>, sent a couple of boxes that I was barely able to get open before the locusts descended once they saw her name on the return address.</span></span></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-70461147368445328552010-10-08T19:23:00.005+04:302010-10-08T19:40:19.285+04:30Half-way Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TK8zIl9DlbI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zggyKwvzX-8/s1600/Running+Soldier.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 181px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TK8zIl9DlbI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zggyKwvzX-8/s320/Running+Soldier.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525691490527057330" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When I went to Basic Training in 1983, during the summer vacation </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >between my junior and senior year of high school</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >, running for exercise was not nearly as common as today and if you did run, you were not a runner, you were a jogger – or a health nut.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Turns out I was a nut. Over the miles we covered each morning for physical training, I discovered a natural affinity for running. I enjoyed the muscle burn, the feeling of fitness, and the sense of accomplishment after completing a run.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We typically ran every day with a long run (six to eight miles) once or twice a week. We quickly learned the designated run routes and knew by certain land marks how far we had come and how far we had to go. If we took a left at a certain intersection instead of a right, we knew if it was going to be a short run or a long run.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Whether it was a short run or a long run, for me, the magical point was when we got half-way. As long as I could make it half-way, I knew I could finish the run.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Since then, in various aspects of my life, the half-way point of an endeavor has been the goal at the beginning and once reached, a motivating accomplishment to carry me through to the finish.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >We have now passed the half-way point of our one-year deployment and this accomplishment – having fewer days left than the number of days we have been here with the end in sight – is very motivating.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When I ran the Marine Corp Marathon in 1992, one of the motivating factors was the people all along the race course who, as I ran by, cheered and waved signs or offered water. I did not know a single one of those people nor did any of them know me, but there were times during the run when their support made all the difference in my completing the race.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Just as the support of the emails, letters and care packages I have received from the many people who I do not know personally has made and makes all the difference in my completing this deployment. (People I do know, such as my family, have also been very supportive.)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I try to send thank-you letters and, when I know they do not mind, recognize them in the “Shout Out” of this blog, but with 12-hour duty shifts and other responsibilities it can sometimes be very challenging to do anything other than shower, eat and sleep.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >During the second-half of this deployment, I will strive to ensure my appreciation, and that of my fellow soldiers with whom I share the care packages, is more strongly and individually expressed.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >In the interim, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to all those who have helped me make it half-way home.</span></span></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-3819213144838164342010-08-10T16:00:00.004+04:302010-08-10T17:17:37.986+04:30Barber Pole<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TGFJOh2wwSI/AAAAAAAAAmg/PmgfRhmWJSE/s1600/Barber+Pole+10Aug10.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TGFJOh2wwSI/AAAAAAAAAmg/PmgfRhmWJSE/s320/Barber+Pole+10Aug10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503760733578510626" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the oldest medical practices, used since the time of the Mesopotamians up to the late 19th century, was bloodletting. It was thought many diseases were caused by an overabundance of bad humors in the blood and letting the blood out would bring cure if not relief.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In medieval, and other times when the vast majority of people were illiterate, signs used to advertise services had to be self-evident and typically entailed objectification of the tools of the respective trade. A wooden shoe announced a cobbler while an iron one a black smith.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For the person who would perform surgeries and bleed you, one would see a stout stick (tightly grasped by the patient to cause the veins to bulge) wrapped loosely with bloodied white(ish) bandages. On top of the stick, one would also often see a round ball representing the basin in which leeches were kept.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Services also offered by these surgeons included pulling teeth and cutting hair. Today, only hair, not veins, are cut by the professionals advertising with a red and white pole (it is thought by many the addition of the blue stripes in American versions of the standard is a tribute to our flag, as well as the color of arterial blood).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When we first arrived at TK, there was only one barber located on the Dutch Kamp Holland and through his monopoly of service, had strange hours of business where at only certain times of certain days would he even cut the hair of American Soldiers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the Soldiers in my platoon made the trip and came back unshorn as he was upset at the perceived lack of hygiene ("He didn't even wash the clippers between cuts!")</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So for the first few months we made do with amateur efforts of the one or two Soldiers who brought clippers. A trim to military standards really is not all that difficult if you trim everything to the skin with the top a slightly more coarse stubble.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My stubble was getting longer as I decided to let the Kojak-look go in deference to the sun - even the 45-odd minutes a day I was getting during PT was crisping my shiny skull. The hair down my neck was getting a bit long and generally Neanderthalish in appearance.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When, thank goodness, Ms. Alia Borombaeva, pictured above, along with one or two of her colleagues, made an appearance and set-up shop in our Camp. Now, like CPT Gregory Hayes (seen above), Soldiers in our camp can get our haircut by someone who makes up for the lack of a firm grasp of spoken English, with a keen grasp of scissors and clippers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ms. Borombaeva and her co-workers are available from 0700 to 1900 every day and almost always have at least one happy customer getting their hair cut under the barber pole.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">S H O U T O U T S</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thank you </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kandice Eason</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> of Newman, GA for the letters and great Care Packages; the whole platoon enjoys the items you send and appreciate your warm letters.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oregon Coast Avid Stampers</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> has provided some awesome home made greeting cards Soldiers can send to loved ones - we do not have access to any cards or stationary, so ORCAS gifts are going straight to use.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thanks to the organizers and volunteers at </span><a href="http://www.operationcarepackages.org/"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Operation Care Package</span></b></a><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">for the mail with Swedish Fish (yum!) and other goodies.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Shannon Family</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> of Saratoga Springs, NY sent one of the best Care Packages ever! Jerky, biscuits, dried fruits and other healthy snacks - thank you!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Si Tenenberg</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> is a former Marine and a current supporter of troops; Si knows what will bring smiles to those far from home and he along with volunteers from </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">First Baptist Church of San Luis Obispo</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> brought cheer to my platoon with a package of jerky, trail mix and other nice snacks.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lucile</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> is a 74 year-old Korean War veteran from Haure de Grace, MD who sent me a box full of Lee Child's "Jack Reacher" novels I am greatly enjoying and passing on, one by one, to other Soldiers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Georgette Johnson</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> has been supporting Corbinistan for some time and her cards, letters and packages are very much appreciated by many Soldiers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lastly, to my family, particularly </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">my Mom and sister-in-law Beth</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, who both send packages on a regular basis - thank you.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-41153825678831516702010-07-31T14:46:00.005+04:302010-07-31T15:14:46.690+04:30Time to make the doughnuts...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TFP5LC5D9nI/AAAAAAAAAmY/woNagHFenMc/s1600/Doughnuts+31Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TFP5LC5D9nI/AAAAAAAAAmY/woNagHFenMc/s320/Doughnuts+31Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500013538099590770" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was just before 0100 and we were changing shifts at the Supply Support Activity; me, Specialist Andropopulus, Sergeant Domino and Sergeant Ack were relieving the other team and beginning our 12-hour shift.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had just settled-in and begun the computer back-up process when we heard a loud, deep and resounding “BOOM”. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It had been some time since there had been any kind of attack, and never this close to our area of operations, so we all looked at each other with wide-eyes for just a moment before reacting.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“That was fricking close!” Andropopulus cried out.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Shut up and get your gear on,” SGT Ack yelled back as he joined me and SGT Domino at the rifle rack where we were already locking and loading.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The thudding booms were getting closer and we could feel the earth trembling from each impact – dust was drifting down from the creases of the tent’s ceiling and the lights began to flicker.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As SGT Domino was strapping on his helmet, he looked at me and said, “Man, I am too close to getting out for this, yo?”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I just shook my head and finished gearing-up; he might talk junk, but I knew we could count on SGT Domino when it mattered.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">BRRRRROOOOOWWW!!!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Oh man, it is right out there,” Andro moaned, white knuckles gripped around his M4.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SGT Ack flicked his fire selector to “Semi” as he calmly said, “Andro, you and SGT Domino head to the left, me and SGT Corbin will take right. We will keep it pinned down with suppressive fire until we get air support – they should be here any minute. Everybody got it?”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Andro gave an audible gulp, but nodded his head. SGT Domino quickly crossed himself and replied, “Hooah.” I looked at SGT Ack with a resigned grin and said, “Guess it’s time to earn our combat pay.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We burst out of the tent with Andro and SGT Domino cutting left and me leading SGT Ack to the right. I almost stumbled when I saw it – the biggest tyrannosaurus rex ever. It had to be at least 20 feet tall, its teeth were as long as broom handles, and it was heading straight toward Andro and SGT Domino with its stubby arms thrust out, its long tail swinging countermeasure to its thundering footsteps with its head cocked like a giant robin about to peck at a worm.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Geeze, I thought, it is going to get them. I began firing at the dino’s head, trying to hit the eyes – the one weak spot not covered in thick, Kevlar-like scaly hide.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SGT Domino was focused on getting to a shipping container for cover and didn’t even see it coming; the t-rex bent down and snatched him up between his jaws and with a bite and two gulps, SGT Domino was gone.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Part of me recognized the sound of the Apache helicopter coming in, but I knew it was still too far to do anything and I looked for SGT Ack who had some how disappeared. I didn’t have time to wonder where he was since the t-rex was now stomping towards Andro, bellowing in rage and hunger.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Run Andro, run!”, I yelled as I went full auto, trying to get the t-rex to turn away.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“I can’t,” he wailed, “it’s against my profile!”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The t-rex got to him in three steps and bit Andro in half – his legs fell to the ground twitching.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The whump-whump-whump of the Apache was getting real loud and just as I turned around to look for it, the pilot launched a Hellfire missile, but it missed and only blew a HUMV-sized hole in the ground next to the t-rex, which only seemed to make it madder.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was out of ammo and was grabbing in my cargo pocket for my extra clip when SGT Ack came blasting out of the storage yard on the 10-ton forklift.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“YEAHHHH! Take that, take that!”, SGT Ack screamed as he rammed the forks under the t-rex and began lifting. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The dino was roaring loudly in frustration as it’s back legs were quickly lifted off the ground and only its thick tail was keeping it from falling over when the Apache fired another Hellfire that, this time, was right on target.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The t-rex’s head evaporated in a mist of red and green gibbets. Its tail went into death-mode spasms and knocked the 10K, with SGT Ack, over like a Tonka truck, but it was not a hard hit and I was pretty sure SGT Ack was okay; not like poor SGT Domino and Andro.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Apache was hovering directly overhead like it was going to land on top of me and all I could hear was it getting louder and louder: WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP!!!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I jerked awake and sat-up in my sleeping bag. I stumbled out of my bed and went to answer my door.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Staff Sergeant Hatch was standing there, “Hey, Corbin, bout time you got up. Are you going to work or did you decide you were going to take the day off?”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“My bad,” I answered, “my alarm must not have gone off.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Time to make the doughnuts...</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>SHOUT OUTS</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The above was just a dream of mine and fiction. Names, character, places and incidents either are products of my imagination or a used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental; although still pretty funny, to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We have not received mail for several weeks now, but a big shipment came in today so tomorrow when I go on shift I should receive anything sent from the beginning of the month - I will shout out thanks next post.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p></span>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-65517524584612419392010-07-26T07:30:00.005+04:302010-07-26T08:06:02.011+04:30Laundry Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TE0An1jmD3I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/MhcwXvLNgHI/s1600/Laundry+25Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TE0An1jmD3I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/MhcwXvLNgHI/s320/Laundry+25Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498051404480515954" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The day after the Berlin Wall came down in mid-November of 1989, I was on a plane traveling from San Francisco to Korea for a one-year tour. I ended up stationed in Seoul and got the opportunity to explore that city as well as major cities like Osan and Pusan, and a few smaller villages when traveling. </span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It was my first time in Asia and I had the chance to see a completely different culture up front and personal. I think any Soldier who spends a tour in Korea leaves with some strong feelings and unforgettable experiences, both good and bad.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br />For me, one of the good ones was having “in-house” boot-polishing and laundry services in the barracks. Twenty-bucks got you a month’s worth of clothes/uniforms washed – with everything from BDUs to blue jeans to boxers being ironed – and your black leather boots being highly-shined – not quite a spit-shine, but a very nice high glow. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In the morning you left your laundry bag with your boots by your door and when you returned in the evening, the boots where shining and the clothes were hanging on the door knob – with socks, tshirts and the like, neatly folded and stacked on the squared laundry bag.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br />The services were provided by an older Korean couple (I almost said elderly, but they were not that much older than I am now – to a 23 year-old, they seemed elderly). Odeeshi (Uncle, but used as Mister) and Oshima (Mrs) arrived at the barracks around 0800 and spent the whole day in the 1st floor laundry room; Odeeshi polishing the boots and Oshima doing the laundry.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br />I despise doing laundry. I think it was a John Hughes film in the ‘80s where one of the angst-filled teenagers (one of the Brat pack, I am sure) leaves a classroom dragging her fingernails across the chalkboard in a dentist-drill, ear-piercing shriek. That sound is what I hear in my brain when I think about having to do laundry.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br />But here in TK, we do not have to do laundry - instead of Odeeshi and Oshima, we have Mr. Guntka (on the left), Mr. Hismani (on the right), and their co-workers who provide next-day washing services. Although you have to actually walk to their shop to drop-off and pick-up the laundry instead of door-side delivery, they fold the clothes nicely, put them in a plastic bag (that serves very nicely as a trash bag for your room) and then put it in your laundry bag for a very convenient package and great service.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It makes sound logistical sense to centralize the laundry services with all the machines and corresponding electrical/water/drainage located in one spot instead of having separate facilities in each block of the RLBs.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">No need for Soldiers to stock laundry sundries such as soap, bleach, etc.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Soldiers are freed from spending precious personal time on doing laundry - which might otherwise get delayed until every sock and pair of boxers had been worn and there was only one t-shirt left. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I know for myself, as someone who is completely clothing-ablutophobic, I really appreciate how it is set-up so any day can easily be laundry day.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><b>SHOUT OUTS!</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Thank you to <b>SGT Mack</b> for letting me (constantly) use his camera.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><b>Adrie Kovic</b> rocks for spreading the word about Corbinistan; she blogs as well and agrees we must be complete egomaniacs.</span></span></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-48244670239278478742010-07-18T15:27:00.006+04:302010-07-19T07:47:00.849+04:30Built by RED HORSE<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TELfVLsv6MI/AAAAAAAAAmA/4RJH-_KOtj0/s1600/Larson+and+Catron+RH+18Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TELfVLsv6MI/AAAAAAAAAmA/4RJH-_KOtj0/s320/Larson+and+Catron+RH+18Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495200050356152514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TELfUvW8lLI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vTXIrLCVhKw/s1600/Medic+Tent+and+Bldg+18Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TELfUvW8lLI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vTXIrLCVhKw/s320/Medic+Tent+and+Bldg+18Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495200042748515506" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After about four months in TK, when I stand on the balcony/cat walk outside my second-level unit to watch th</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e distant sun settle behind the western horizon's mountain fringe, in front of me the potpourri of wooden </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">shacks, tents of various shapes and sizes, and concrete barriers fits easily in my mind's eye with each structure’s place and purpose now well known to me.</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But in my first days and weeks here, the jumbled landscape of various buildings and tents took some time to get to know and assimilate into my consciousness as home and the neighborhood.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During the early evening of one our first weekends here, after the sun had set – which means a certain darkness had fallen as there are not many outdoor lights, I noticed an open area under some tent canopies where it seemed a group of guys were meeting for what looked suspiciously to me like a nice sized poker game. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was instantly interested and thought about strolling over to see about getting into the game, but after a moment or two of observation and reflection – I thought it might be better to check it out later as it looked like they had too many people already and, it could have been just a one-time event as some kind of farewell party since, as we were arriving, those we were relieving were leaving.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The next day, my neighbor, who was leaving, told me that group was a bunch of Air Force guys who got together to play poker with the Australians from Kamp Holland.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I thought to myself, "Self, what the heck are Air Force guys doing here?"</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After joining the Club for Propogation of International Cultural Exchange, I found out through conversations over Hold'm Poker the Air Force guys are doing quite a bit here; almost without exception, all the plywood constructed buildings have been built by them as well as a lot of work on roads and construction in general.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In specific, they are Rapid Engineering Deployable Heavy Operational Repair Squadron Engineer (RED HORSE). <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In general, basically a squadron of Bob the Builders.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And building is what they are good at. During my first few weeks here a brand new chapel was completed by RED HORSE so services could be held in air conditioned comfort versus a dark and hot tent.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At this moment, members of the RED HORSE team are putting the finishing touches on a new Medical Clinic building to replace another hot tent. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The picture above shows the current Medical tent on the left – the wooden door/frame is so the medical supplies may be secured – with the new building on the right – note the mounted A/C units for chilling medics and patients; a vast difference in comfort and utility.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The utilities, insulation and just about everything else relating to constructing the building was done almost completely by two of my poker buddies, Senior Airmen Brad Catron and Kenny Larson.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SRA Larson is on the left and SRA Catron is on the right with the RED HORSE logo between the two of them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Larson is from my home State of Utah and his family lives just a few miles from my parents.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Catron has been here for nearly a year and will soon be returning home to Wyoming</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The two of them are Reservists/Air Guard and will go back to civilian life (they are both in college) once their respective deployment tour is completed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the Task Force No Mercy Army Officers made a comment to me the other day about how whenever he sees members of the RED HORSE team working, how they seem to him to be so happy and satisfied in doing their jobs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I never asked my buddies if they were happy, but I do think they should be proud of their accomplishments and hard efforts in supporting the mission and the people who work, worship and tend wounded in buildings built by RED HORSE.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SHOUT OUTS!</span></span><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style=" line-height:115%;Arial","sans-serif""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thank you to </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Donna D.</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> from Milton for the wonderful Care Packages; they were of such a great variety of munchables, which were partially inhaled by the guys on my shift.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style=" line-height:115%;Arial","sans-serif""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thank you to the </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Red, White & Bike</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> group at St. Agatha Academy in Winchester; please tell the kids I really liked their letters and may I please post the drawing of the “Smiling Soldier” Lauren sent?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style=" line-height:115%;Arial","sans-serif""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And, thanks to </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">my Mom</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for a nice Care Package of toiletries and hygenics; the best part was the MET-RX Colossal bars!</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-91993465308630421012010-07-08T15:36:00.006+04:302010-07-08T16:38:13.207+04:30Thanksgiving - 3/4 July<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1Jf3o27I/AAAAAAAAAlw/pU9yaIxpFic/s1600/VBall1+03Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1Jf3o27I/AAAAAAAAAlw/pU9yaIxpFic/s320/VBall1+03Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491494495426501554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1JLfByWI/AAAAAAAAAlo/v_EL2AfKYeY/s1600/10K+Finisht+03Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1JLfByWI/AAAAAAAAAlo/v_EL2AfKYeY/s320/10K+Finisht+03Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491494489954568546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1I5-L18I/AAAAAAAAAlg/LXilCM7lTgE/s1600/10K+Start.2+03Jul10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 117px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TDW1I5-L18I/AAAAAAAAAlg/LXilCM7lTgE/s320/10K+Start.2+03Jul10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491494485253412802" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since, as far as I know, the only country that celebrates Thanksgiving is the United States, I have always considered it to be the truly unique American holiday. But, for sheer exuberance, I don’t think anyone will argue that the Fourth of July, our Independence Day, is the epitome of American celebration.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; "> <span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Here at TK, we had our 4OJ celebration this year on Saturday, the 3rd of July. I am not sure why it was a day early, but if I were to speculate, it could have been there might have been concerns about the bad guys doing something – since they seem to have calendars as well, or it might have been to avoid a conflict with Sunday worship and the 4OJ celebration activities.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; "> <span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In any case, the activities began at 0500 on Saturday with a 5K (about three miles) and 10K (about 6 miles) Fun Run/Walk. Since I usually run the 5K route a couple times a week for PT, I wanted a challenge and signed up for the 10K run. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For the first 160-odd people who signed up, or was a volunteer/”encourager”, there were free t-shirts commemorating the event. One of the reasons I signed up for the event, even though I had full 12-hour duty shift ahead of me after the run, was so I could get a t-shirt as a remembrance. </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The shirts were handed out the morning of the run/walk during registration. A</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">fter registration and a safety brief, it was ready-set-go at 0600.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I thought I would be the oldest guy running, but I found out there was one other person a year older than me so we ran together and kept a pretty steady pace of around 8-minute miles with a total time of just over 49 minutes – not too shabby for a couple of guys in their mid-forties at 4,300 feet altitude.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The longitude/end of the 10K route had us go past, by a couple of clicks (kilometers), the point where my (mostly) daily 5K run route ends, so my mind/body was ready to call it quits at its normal ending point; this made me grateful to have someone running with me to keep me honest and on pace to the end (thanks again, Sir.)</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; "> <span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At the end, there were prizes for the female and male (not by age categories or I would have certainly have won a prize even if I probably would have had to “accidentally” trip my running partner) who came in first place for the run and walk in both distances. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One Soldier was so quick he got to the turn-around point before the race officials were there to show him the way. He got a special prize for going 5.5 clicks, and to the laughter of the crowd, was ordered by the Command Sergeant Major to report to him later for failure to follow directions.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After the race everyone went in different directions; some to breakfast and most to showers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I cleaned-up and headed to work. Although I was able to leave shortly thereafter to participate in the next activity: volley ball competition. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The natural TK environment, where gravel/rocks have not been place, consists of “moon dust”, which is perfect for volleyball, although it is so fine (talcum powder consistency) it makes its way through almost any shoe fiber to turn socks and toes ochre brown.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My black PT shorts got a bit of a dusting when I dove for one ball (that made it over the net, but not in bounds – doggone it!) so the picture above is me just as the first game began. (I crop out other Soldiers as I do not think it appropriate to post their pics without specific approval).<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My team won the first game, but lost the next match so we came in second to bring our Company 15-points to be tallied together with the points from the events of the day such as horseshoes, basketball, and the ever popular 4OJ activity, litter-carry – where a Soldier lays down on a canvas medical litter and is carried by four other soldiers over a set distance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My Company went the whole distance and was announced as the overall winner during the outdoor dinner meal of grilled steak, hamburgers, mongo-hotdogs, and chicken served with potato salad and baked beans.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The ice cream and cake was served at the mess hall (pardon me, dining facility) so the only thing really missing was fireworks, but considering our location, that is something for which we probably all should be giving Thanks.</span></span></span></span><span style="line-height:115%;Arial","sans-serif"; font-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-8035756466895922322010-06-28T12:23:00.005+04:302010-06-28T13:50:52.677+04:30Dutch Treat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TChWsplsq-I/AAAAAAAAAlY/ozp8IbMgx3E/s1600/Kamp+Holland.+Apr10.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TChWsplsq-I/AAAAAAAAAlY/ozp8IbMgx3E/s320/Kamp+Holland.+Apr10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487731471029152738" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As you may know, the US Army is not the only national force of NATO's International Security Force (ISAF) operating from Tarin Kowt.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are also contingents of Afghanis, Australians, Dutch and others. Each living in their respective, somewhat adjoining, compounds; the ultimate in exclusive gated communities with the very best of armed response units.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Dutch compound is appropriately called "Kamp Holland" although, in addition to the Dutch, also has Australians, Slovakians, etc.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Perhaps it was the speckled desert uniforms, or maybe the accents, or it could have been the numerous, dusty brown tents and the style of the semi-permanent buildings interlaced with hard-packed rocky dirt roads, but when I was visiting Kamp Holland the other day, I kept thinking of the movie "District 9".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Not that I was expecting to see aliens (extraterrestrial ones, I mean) hunched over cans (tins) of cat food, but the vibe I got was more of a town than a military installation.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The reason I was there was to enjoy a congratulatory meal at the Dutch "cafe'" - Echoes - bought for me by my section Warrant Officer for my above 270 score on the recent PT Test; he is real good about recognizing and celebrating the accomplishments of his Soldiers - not something all leadership practices.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Echoes is a purposely dimly lit collection of wooden floor rooms inside a large tent where there are several benches, numerous 2/4-seater tables, a couch in front of a decent sized television (tuned to the World Cup), a couple of magazine racks, and bookcases with mostly Dutch paperbacks for trade/borrow.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are various European/Australian wall hangings and no windows, so it is easy to imagine you are not in a combat zone. Well, except for the military uniforms and people carrying rifles, knives and other weapons. Okay, maybe not so easy, but it is certainly a much different atmosphere than the US Army mess hall (pardon me, "dining facility") and truly a treat to be able to order from a menu with meals singularly prepared versus mass-produced food served from large metal warming trays.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Chief and I placed our order at the counter; I got the chicken schnitzel with mushroom gravy, a side salad and french fries (chips), and he had something similar. Our number was called and we picked-up our actual ceramic plates, not a cardboard TV-dinner-like tray, and plastic flatware along with 20 or so ketchup packets. Chief mixed in mayo with his ketchup for his fries, but I wasn't sure if this was his usual habit or just staying with the quasi-European motif.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The food itself was not really a culinary spectacle, but the whole experience was a nice break from the norm and we had a nice chat for a while before Chief got a call on his mobile reminding him of an obligation he needed to attend so we mopped up the last of our ketchup (and mayo), bussed our dishes and headed "home".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All in all, it was a very nice break from the day-to-day-to-day-etc. routine and something I will try to do every couple of weeks. Of course, I will have to buy my own meal next time, so it will be in all ways a Dutch Treat.</span></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-87879759660247388322010-06-23T07:38:00.007+04:302010-06-23T07:56:09.735+04:30(Sand) Flea Market<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TCF8dvAoXqI/AAAAAAAAAks/PFDLXbSvGjk/s1600/TK+Bazaar+18Apr10.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TCF8dvAoXqI/AAAAAAAAAks/PFDLXbSvGjk/s320/TK+Bazaar+18Apr10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485802671391137442" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If you Google the word origin of ‘bizarre’, you will find a general consensus of it deriving from the Italian ‘bizzarro’, which meant ‘angry’. Reportedly, it then migrated to Spanish as ‘bizarro’, meaning ‘brave’, and then found its way into French, where its meaning gradually mutated from ‘brave’ to ‘odd’ – and then, as with many other French words, was implemented into English.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I don’t know why, but I always thought the word ‘bizarre’ likely came from Crusaders being exposed to the wide variety of theretofore never seen animals, foods, and goods at Holy Land bazaars. It seems to me a knight converting the noun of 'bazaar' to the adjective 'bizarre' after witnessing such strange oddities would be a much more reasonable genesis than the angry-brave-odd path. But, I am sure there are etymological, historical, and cultural challenges to my hypothesis.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Bazaars are very much a part of the Afghani culture and there is one held here at TK from around 10:00 in the morning until 2ish in the afternoon each Sunday.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Like its American cousin, the flea market, the bazaar has regular vendors who have the same type of goods each week with an established area where they set-up shop by laying out their items on a blanket or rug, and there are vendors who seem to show-up whenever they have acquired enough varied items to display in whatever free space is available.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As you will see from the picture, the available space is full of a variety of items ranging from hookahs, to bootleg DVDs and all sort of random electronics, to rugs (lauded as hand-made), to precious and semi-precious stones.</span></span></span><span style=" font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Lapis lazuli was just another word from my readings of Greek mythologies and the Bible, but here, the speckled semi-precious stone is abundant in both raw and shaped form although the dealers, unlike with other items, are only willing to negotiate to a certain degree.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Haggling seems to be acceptable and somewhat expected (although the dealers are quick to consummate a deal with those who agree to the first asking price) with all sales final and paid in cash – US Dollars being the currency used by all the America, Dutch, Australian, etc. shoppers.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">While a very small number of the shoppers are female, all of the vendors are male. Mostly young men in their 20’s with a scattering of boys who look they are around 8 to 10ish and are not shy at all in hawking their goods in a bit of an aggressive manner, but with shining eyes and smiles so it is easy to forgive their forwardness.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">No female vendors, nor any vendors at all of food. I have heard the bazaars at other bases have kebab stands, gyro booths, and other edibles, but, for some reason, absent from the TK market.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So, being the curious fellow I am, I began wondering about the market value of, say, a jar of peanut butter. Or, how about a bag of beef jerky? Perhaps a pack or two of Big Red.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom: .0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Not that I would look to become a vendor or violate any contraband regulations, but I am curious; perhaps there is a bartering and cultural exchange opportunity at the sand flea market.</span></span></span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p></i></span><p></p>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-23013916110361133932010-06-23T07:19:00.002+04:302010-06-23T07:24:40.700+04:30When I am Able<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Thank you to all who read my posts and a double-helping to those who have followed the link and sent care packages; they are very much appreciated. If you do send a letter or package, please let me know if it is alright to thank you by name in this forum.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My goal is to post a note at least once a week, typically on Sunday, but due to sporadic internet connectivity and other issues which interrupt service, it may be more than a week between posts. Such as this past week.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If you are not a follower, please check back regularly and I promise I will post when I am able. </span></span></div>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2438613158829980633.post-11167897015337167492010-06-13T15:23:00.004+04:302010-06-13T15:35:51.798+04:30PT - Good for you, good for me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TBS6sa_gG-I/AAAAAAAAAkk/qkODIlwW5nw/s1600/Down+PU+12Jun10.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OqAcHtpDlaY/TBS6sa_gG-I/AAAAAAAAAkk/qkODIlwW5nw/s320/Down+PU+12Jun10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482211918739413986" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">All the US Armed Forces regularly asses the physical fitness of their members with a physical training (PT) test conducted on at least an annual, if not semi-annual, or quarterly, basis. Each of the services’ PT test is different from the others and reflects their respective traditions and standards. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">For example, the Marines have three events consisting of pull-ups, abdominal crunches, and a three-mile timed run; the Army’s three events are <a href="http://www.apft-standards.com/pushup.html">push-ups</a>, <a href="http://www.apft-standards.com/situp.html">sit-ups</a>, and a timed <a href="http://www.apft-standards.com/run.html">two-mile run</a>; and the Air Force’s are TiVo programming, popcorn microwaving, and napping.*</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In the Army, the passing score in each category for Soldiers is 60 points. As you will note by following the above links to the respective standards, the number of points earned in each event is based upon a sliding scale taking into account the Soldier’s respective sex and age – this recognizes the physiological differences between males and females as well as the impact of aging.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">When I was a 19 or 20-something year old stationed in Heidelberg, Germany, I regularly maxed out on the two-mile run with times under 13-minutes, and on a few occasions, under 12-minutes. I distinctly remember teasing and taunting some of the older soldiers about how the sliding scale allowed them minutes more time to achieve a passing, let alone a maxing, score. The response was invariably something along the lines of, “Just you wait until reach my age – if you live that long.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Well, the see-saw as tipped to the other side and find myself a wee bit grateful that being in the 42-46 year old category meant that when we took our record PT test this week, I only needed 30 push-ups to achieve the passing score of 60 points – although I still cranked out a count of 60-some repetitions (some were not counted when my form was less than perfect) for a near max score. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">On the run, my age scored me almost 100 points, but I also smoked everyone in my section, except for one Soldier who is 17-years younger than me (my roommate!), with a time of 14:18. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Considering the physical condition I was in just a year ago, I was quite pleased to see these results of my PT efforts.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In any case, I could not help but laugh to myself at the poetic justice when some of those smoked disgruntled younger soldiers made comments that the only reason I got the second highest total PT score in our section was my age – it was like hearing myself echoing down through the years.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Now, at 44 years old, I am glad I came back into the Army to appreciate how my perspective has changed, but also to see how PT is still good for you, and good for me.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*Just teasing.</span></p>Sgt Corbinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01043893747032464032noreply@blogger.com4