Thursday, November 01, 2007

Friday, October 26, 2007

The Realities of Deployment and Readjustment

I am an American Soldier and I was in a combat zone; and while I have no visible injuries, I am nonetheless forever changed. This is my reality.

Serving my country has always given me an incredible sense of pride. It still does. But this most recent deployment experience also opened my eyes to the effects that deployments, particularly those to hostile, unsympathetic environments, really have on service members and their families.

I worked in a very "no nonsense" environment overseas... and with slightly dysfunctional people, made this way from too many deployments. Deploying and returning home, time and time again, over the course of many years. The effect of which left some more than just a little unpredictable in their behavior and considerably idiosyncratic. They earned their mental scars, their divorces, their quirks, doing what they love the most. Serving their country.

We wrote the orders, policies and procedures for those Soldiers who performed the dangerous work of delivering goods and supplies along the roads of Kuwait and Iraq. The orders we gave and the plans we made sent them into harm's way on a daily basis. Most of what we asked the Soldiers to do, and what we oversaw, was "routine" to us and to the Soldiers. We were all desensitized to the realty of how unsafe our work really was.

After reading about 50 or so "Serious Incident Reports" every day for weeks at a time -- reports of shootings, injuries, IEDS -- you become immune to your own emotions. It's a job requirement. You cannot become histrionic every time something bad happens, or else we would be ineffective leaders and consequently those under us would be in greater danger than they already were if our emotions took over every time something distasteful happened, or the stress level rose a notch or two. While these are effective survival tactics in a combat zone, they are qualities that are not necessary at home in the United States. What is considered calm and rational in a hazardous duty area, often comes off as cold, callous and uncaring to family and friends.

The majority of Kuwait and Iraq that I visited was a horribly austere, dirty and noisy environment. There were smells and tastes lingering in the air that were quite nauseous and sickening. Upon first arriving in Kuwait, most people experience some type of upper respiratory distress from unavoidably breathing in all the filth and dust that is a constant in that operating environment. What will the long term effects of this exposure be? I don't know.

I made it home, safe and sound. But it didn't take long for me to realize that my mind was still overseas conducting business as usual. It became apparent to me that I was wound a little too tight -- as taut as a piano string, to be exact. Unwinding, or turning it off, however, proved to take more effort than I assumed it would. "They" say this is normal.

I now find that I am more sensitive to noise, have demands for more personal space, and obsess a little more about cleanliness. I'm astute enough to realize that my new idiosyncratic behavior is directly related to my experiences while overseas. Now I am more like those who I served with, those who have endured more than one deployment.

And so I have changed. It is difficult for others to understand why I have changed. After all, I wasn't wounded. Or was I?

There is a child in my life who thinks I am a hero – a point which is certainly debatable. He was simply happy that I returned home in one piece -- at least he thought I was in one piece -- and ready to start our lives over from the point at which we left off. However, it fast became apparent to him that I am not the same person he knew before I left and he is confused by that. He wants the "old me" back and so do I. It is painful and disappointing for both of us.

It is also disheartening to me that there are so many who served in Desert Storm who became ill as a result of their exposure to dirt, dust, burning oil, chemicals, drugs the military gave them to protect them, and God knows what else. Some are still waiting on a diagnosis and treatment after all these years. And the reality of the Vietnam Veterans, scorned for their participation in a war that had little public support, scarred by their experiences and denied treatment, is painfully sad. Will the Veterans of this war suffer the same mistreatments? Will we be diagnosed later in life with some unnameable disease, the source of which cannot be identified? Again, I don't know.

I see homeless people on the street, some of them obviously Veterans, and now I understand why they are in the situation they are. They were wounded, physically and mentally, and society has cast them aside. Has the War on Terrorism created another generation of people who will suffer the same plight? We are already seeing the answer to this question being unveiled in the press. Think of Walter Reed when you read this.

Still, I am lucky. Health care for Vets has vastly improved over the course of the United States' involvement in world conflicts. PTSD wasn't even recognized as a valid medical condition until well after the Vietnam War had concluded and thousands of Vets were wandering the streets with undiagnosed medical and psychological conditions. Thankfully Vets now have access to free medical screenings and counseling following deployments. I just hope that those who need it take advantage of it.

While visiting a local Vet Center, a counselor told me that he had just recently spoken with a WWII Vet who confided in him, after 60 years of holding it in, all the horrible things he witnessed during the war. 60 years. That's a long time to repress something like that, but thank God that man finally had the opportunity to unload it on someone. Some never have that opportunity. Some never readjust.

It has taken longer to "demobilize" myself and readjust than I originally thought it would. I have lots of memories from my deployments, both good and bad. They will always be with me and they have shaped me into the person I am today. And from that I gain my new reality.

My new reality is that this is what happens to service members who are willing to pack up their bags and deploy to some far away, unfriendly region of the world, enduring the hardships of life away from family and friends, and the uncertainty of what the next day will bring. Some do it over and over. My deployment was easier than most and yet it effected me in a lasting way. I can only imagine what issues other service members and their families are facing.

All who have served, including their families, have sacrificed a portion of themselves for what they believe in the most... service... freedom... religious tolerance... and many other things that our society cherishes. Please don't forget what they have sacrificed for you. Please don't forget them.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

"Reflections from my time in Iraq"

By Carol Vols, Business Information Specialist, TACOM LCMC Rock Island
(Editor’s Note: Carol Vols deployed as a civilian volunteer for the 402nd Army Field Support Brigade communications group at Camp Anaconda, Balad, Iraq, from Oct. 1, 2006 to March 15, 2007. She shares her thoughts from her experience.)
  • I still can't watch the medivac choppers coming in without sadness.
  • I have never been called "ma'am" by so many young people in my life.
  • Somebody is teaching a lot of these young men and women manners.
  • Most of these young men and women deserve the respect of their peers, their elders, and their leaders.
  • A few of these young men and women should probably not be allowed to carry weapons.
  • I have never heard the "f" word this much in my life without taking offense to it.
  • That mortar that blew up less than 100 feet behind us was more reality than I care to have.
  • Did I mention that seeing the smoke and asphalt flying in the rear-view mirror from that mortar is something I don't think I'll forget?
  • People who haven't been in a war zone don't understand. I know I didn't.
  • You can't make people who haven't been in a war zone understand.
  • I still can't imagine what it's like to have someone shooting/shelling/setting roadside bombs to kill you outside the wire. I pray everyday for those who do have to deal with that.
  • Seeing a two year old in the hospital that was shot in the head by insurgents is as senseless here as it is when a two year old is shot in America. The "why" doesn't matter. It's a two year old.
  • Seeing soldiers in the hospital and asking them how they are doing when you can see they've been burned, lost limbs, and have shrapnel wounds seems somewhat silly. But it's important to ask.
  • Watching your friend play his mandecello at the hospital for the wounded is something to sit down, smile at, and enjoy.
  • If you can't drop one project and jump to another that you have no clue about you probably will not like your job here.
  • The extra money you get paid really doesn't seem like that much when you're laying on the ground during an alarm red/incoming attack.
  • We are at war. War is not pleasant and our soldiers and civilians will die. But you cannot continue to walk away or turn your head, or I guarantee you the war will be on American soil soon.
  • People are upset that we have lost over 3000 soldier's lives over the four years of this war, and it saddens me too. But in 2004 there were 16,148 murders in the US, and in 2005 there were 16,692 reported. We need to keep a perspective of what we're arguing about.
  • Some of the friends made here will be lifelong. Others passing. Just like at home.
  • The people who are at home and frightened for us are having a much rougher time of it than we do here on base. Not knowing is so much harder.
  • You will not find fact in the media. You will find some facts. The rest of it is political positioning, attention grabbing garbage.
  • It's a pretty simple life here. They feed you, they do your laundry, you show up for work, you go to sleep.
  • Everyone who "raised their hand" to come here should be applauded. That doesn't mean that some shouldn't be sent home.
  • Part of my decision to come here was to have no more "I should have's". It was a good decision. I need to make more of them.
  • I have never had a clearer understanding of how truly lucky and blessed we are to live in America.
Article from TACOM LCMC Community Report, A community newsletter serving TACOM, PEOs, Depots, TARDEC, the Natick Soldier Center & ARDEC April 12, 2007

Some of My Favorite Pictures

These are just a few of my favorite pictures. Enjoy!

Monday, November 06, 2006

Hypothetically Speaking

The Devil Wears Combat Boots

Let us say, hypothetically speaking, there is this female officer in my chain of command who is, er, well….., a battle axe. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Let us further suppose that said battle axe is in a position of authority and very much enjoys cracking the whip and spewing forth hate and discontent at people who get in her way. Since we’re only speaking of an imaginary person, I’ll continue.

This woman is hell on wheels on some days, and really fun to be around on others. The problem is she can go from zero to a screaming, irrational nag in under 10 seconds, without warning. From her perspective there is nothing wrong with her behavior. From everyone else’s perspective, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Lot’sa luck! That’s the problem with crazy people; they don’t think they're crazy.

Working with her, remember… this is a fictitious person, is a mental and emotional drain. To frustrate matters more, the woman is absolutely a subject matter expert on many issues and lots of people would like to use her as a resource but they would rather go around her, do extra work, dig into the archives, work with less competent people, work longer hours, than ask her for help. Nine times out of 10, you’re asking a dumb question from her perspective. It’s just not worth the verbal beratement you’d have to endure as a consequence of asking for help. So most don’t.

I have worked with women like her before in my military career. Female officers are in the minority in the Army and the DoD as a whole. In years past, if a female officer wanted to not only advance, but simply survive, she had to be very thick skinned and willing to put up with a certain amount of abuse in order to succeed. Some women even took it a step further and “slept” their way up the ladder. Others resorted to being abrasive and rude in order to project a certain toughness, an “I can hang… bring it on” sort of image. Throughout their careers, many become mean, crotchety, backbreaking shrews or performed gratuitous acts to advance.

Now, by no means is every woman in the military a nasty old hag, and there are only a small minority that have performed certain favors for special consideration. But I know there are a few. The crotchety ones are out there. You’ll know them when you see them. And the rumors of the latter are simply too pervasive not to be true.

Given that there has been a lot of social and institutional change in the military, women no longer have to resort to such extreme measures to advance. Thank goodness. In fact, recruitment numbers are so low, the slogan is no longer, “Be All You Can Be.” It’s more like, “We’ll Take Whatever You’ve Got.” Okay… that’s a joke. Things aren’t quite that bad. Are they?

I have always felt that a person should advance in an organization based on their professional performance and competence. I have no doubt my fictitious person is very well qualified, in fact she is one of the most intelligent and adept officers I have ever known. But professionally speaking, she is an uncivilized ogress. She has no sense of tact or even the slightest idea what the word means.

I have often wished that someone would put this woman in her place, but then that would deprive me of the pleasure of doing it myself. Regardless, I wouldn’t stoop to such levels because I’m a professional and I refuse to debase myself just to prove a point. However, that has not stopped me from dreaming of choking the ever-livin’ crap out of her tactless behind.

Would I want her on my team? Sure, as long as I could lock her in a room and minimize her contact with subordinate officers, other units, our higher headquarters…. Okay, I’d not allow her to speak to anyone…I might even tape her mouth shut… but she could be on the team. Sort of like Hal from “2001: A Space Odyssey.” We’d ask her questions and she’d spit out answers. But much like when Hal flipped his lid, we’d pull the plug on “Old Batty” at the first sign of synaptic dysfunction.

Would I want her as a friend? Nope. Well, maybe. It’s hard to say because the ground is just too darn shaky. Hypothetically speaking.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Who / What is “Sojack?”

The term Sojack is short for Notary Sojac. And my version uses a slightly modified spelling.

In my original disclaimer to the blog, I tried to explain how I came up with the idea to use the name “Sojack.”

“I needed a name for this blog and Sojack immediately came to mind. It also satisfies the requirements for OPSEC and just plain ole' personal anonymity. The word "Sojac" comes from the Smokey Stover comic strip that was popular in the 1920's and 30's. The phrase "Notary Sojac" was frequently used in the comic strip and few people knew what it meant. Supposedly in Gaelic it means Merry Christmas. I don't speak Gaelic so I can't confirm this. My dad grew up reading the comic strip and Notary Sojac became one of his favorite sayings. He still uses it today. Out of deference to my dad," and Bill Holman, "I've purposely misspelled "Sojac" as "Sojack." One Notary Sojac in the family is enough.”

As the internet has grown and matured over the last few years, a lot more information has become available online about Smokey Stover and the term “Notary Sojac,” as well as some other nonsensical terms found in the comic strip. I thought I’d share a little bit of this trivia with you.

Since I first began writing and compiling this blog, I’ve learned that “sojac” may also be Gaelic for “horsecrap.” Hmmm. That’s good to know, as I have a propensity for waxing poetic about nonsensical B.S.

Sojac is not the only nonsense term used in Bill Holman’s comic strip. The terms “foo” and “1506 (fifteen Oh six) nix, nix” were also coined by our beloved character Smokey Stover. “Foo” may have been inspired by the French term for fire, “feu.” It was also adopted in WWII by Allied aircraft pilots to refer to UFOs or mysterious aerial phenomena. They called them “Foo Fighters.” Interestingly enough there is also a rock band called the “Foo Fighters” which I rather like.

Holman said the term “Foo” was something his “uncle found… engraved on the bottom of a jade statue in San Francisco’s China town. The word Foo means Good-Luck.” Other sources say it means “happiness.”

In regards to “1506 nix, nix,” it was the hotel room number of a fellow daily news cartoonist Al Posen. I just like saying it...., “Fifteen oh six, nix, nix.” It really flows off the tongue.

Something I find really funny is the little known fact that at the 1968 Democratic National Convention, one of the delegates cast a vote for Smokey. Think it was his way of making a statement about the candidates?

Continuing in the rock band tradition of weird and obscure names, in the '60s and '70s, there was a band from the Pacific Northwest called “Notary Sojack.” As luck would have it, they are putting together a CD. I think I might order it!

More links about Notary Sojack, “sojac-isms,” Smokey Stover, and other useless but interesting trivia.

Official Smokey Stover Homepage

Straight Dope

Smokey Stover: Foo Fighter Extraordinaire

Foo Fighters: Mysterious Aerial Phenomena of WWII

Foo Fighters: The Rock Band

Friday, November 03, 2006

Heavy Equipment Transporter (HET)

The HET is one big, bad, monster truck. It's a logistical support vehicle which provides line haul capabilities for combat units. It carrys tracked vehicles and other heavy wheeled vehicles. Earlier models of the HET were used during the Persian Gulf War, but we quickly learned that they couldn't tolerate loads over 60 tons. Current HET semi-trailers are equipped with a heavy-duty winch capable of pulling an immobilised tank on board and they can carry up to 70-tons. Moving tracked vehicles in this way saves wear and tear on the track as well as the roads.

If you'd like to read about some of the remarkable people who drive these monster trucks into harms way daily, read "On the Road Again..." on page 6 of the September, 2006 edition of Desert Voice. If you're really interested and want to read Part II, just follow this link.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

24th Marine Expeditionary Unit

Earlier this month I was able to observe the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) come ashore here in Kuwait. The 24th MEU is one of three Marine Air/Ground Logistics Task Forces which routinely deploys from Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune to the Mediterranean Sea aboard amphibious ready group shipping.

Amphibious Assault VehicleThe mission of the MEU is to provide geographic combatant commanders with a forward-deployed, rapid-response force capable of conducting conventional amphibious and selected maritime special operations at night or under adverse weather conditions from the sea, by surface and/or by air while under communications and electronics restrictions.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Ramadan and the Night of Power

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, a lunar calendar. Because the lunar calendar is in synch with the moon and not the sun, Islamic holidays move each year. This year Ramadan began on Sep 24th and it continues through Oct 24th.

For millions of Muslims around the world, Ramadan is a month of prayer, fasting and charity... among other things. It is also a "holy" month of increased violence, because during Ramadan, Muslims also enjoy the Night of Power.

The Night of Power is the night in which the Islamic code of guidance, the Holy Quran, was revealed from the Lord of the Universe to Prophet Muhammad. It’s a special night in which Muslims can get bonus points for being hyper-righteous, pious, faithful, charitable,... or whatever deeds they choose to carry out in the name of Allah. See where I’m going with this? The Night of Power is like the Night of Extra Credit. So to die on the Night of Power doing something spectacular in the name of Allah is a thing to strive for in some Islamic religious circles. Paradise squared awaits them. I don’t know if that means a martyr gets more than 72 virgins, or that the virgins are just better somehow. I’m not familiar with all the specifics of the holy tenants governing this special day. I’m not trying to be culturally insensitive. I really don’t get it and I'm curious.

Some Muslims believe that the exact date of the Night of Power is not known. It is presumed to be a secret and only Allah knows the exact date and time of the super power convergence. This is to insure that everyone gives 100% throughout the entire month of Ramadan, instead of saving it up for the Night of Power and the potential bonus points. Sort of like what Christians do on Christmas and Easter.

Most say that the Night of Power is the 27th night of Ramadan. There is a mathematical formula for how this number was determined. I’ll skip that part. If you’re curious, Google it. The calculation runs in the same vein as Nostradamus predictions and e-mails that promise they can guess your weight if they know your birthday, eye color and the number of letters in your name. It's County Fair math.

Back to the point. If the Night of Power is the 27th day of Ramadan, that makes it Oct 19th this year. This is the night it should all "go down!" I await the spectacular deeds of Muslim religious zealots. Happy Ramadan-ing!

Sunday, August 27, 2006

LSV 6 - Resupply Mission

Every now and then an opportunity arises to participate in a mission that is as fun as it is informative and necessary. Yesterday was one of those days. A fellow officer and I got the opportunity to participate in a resupply mission in the Persion Gulf.

Here are a couple of links that explain what an LSV is:

Army Vessels
Logistics Support Vessel