Your Disease, I Have Your Cure

I sit here at work and watch the time slowly and methodically tick further and further into the evening. The life of a paratrooper has never been an easy one I try to seldom complain about it. But it is one that less than a percent of less than a percent of people in the United States do. Tonight has gone later for me than this early afternoon release from duty was supposed to, and for the hundreth time-it's not my first rodeo. Unfortunately this one lasts a lot longer than 8 seconds.

I sit here mostly by choice, because an ass chewing now is better than an ass chewing later. We have a four day weekend ahead of us, and to the civilian world that would be rare. For us it's about a once a month occurance and one of the few perks that military life has. My since of dumbfounded responsibility is something that you rarely find nowadays in the youth. I have found it and tonight am exercising it almost all too well. Accountability is a pain in a place with so many things constantly going on and today will be another hard lessoned learned in my development. I didn't lose the item if that's what you're thinking, but because of my position (rather than my rank) I am intermediately responsible for the lost item. Accountability is one of the hardest things in the military. Not because it's hard to count or keep track, but simply because you can delegate authority-but not responsibility.

I'm just the middle rung in the ladder and am somewhat thankful to neither be on the top or bottom of it as they seem to get the most attention. However, today I'm the bearer of bad news. And so I wait. And wait. And wait. The story of my life on a lot of days from 3pm till 7pm. It's not the most efficient thing in the world, but eventually you just get used to it. Wet monkey theory at it's best.


and sidebar...

The Army full of bad leaders who are allowed to be in positions that they would be fired in in nano seconds, yet these are the same individuals who decide whether or not I live in the heat of battle, when they can't even realize in the 'heat' of garrison life what there role is. The biggest and most feared thing in the Army is blind ambition and lack of self-awareness. A leader has to be able to take a step back and look at how is actions affect others and how they are taken by others. You cannot be a perfect leader, it takes an umbrella of leadership to keep the proverbial shit from raining down. It's this understanding that makes you a good leader, and the understanding of how to take what you have and build a shelter with that leadership that makes you a great one. The system is flawed. It doesn't matter what pre-requisites you have coming into a role like the one we have, you have to throw them all aside and work on your experiences, merit and open-mindedness. In-fact it might be more dangerous to have distinguishment as that only shows selfishness which is not an aspect that you can possess as a leader. We tend to forget that with that power comes the responsibility, not to do great, but for your men to do great.

tangent not complete, but I'll save some for later.

My book, that I will have to start re-writing (since my computer was stolen), will ruin the political careers of individuals within the Army who are here for exactly that. I don't care to wear badges or ribbons, or awards. I have enough pride knowing that I myself accomplished the feats worthy of being bestowed those honors. But some people want to flaunt, to show, to speak out and peacock what they have done, what they will do. I'm a firm believer in something I learned long ago from a great mentor, GD- "Don't Tell Me, Show Me." A motto I live to this day.

Sew What?

Most of us don't imagine where we'll be in 30 years. It's kind of a scary thing to imagine life that far ahead when most of us can't even think about what we want for dinner later this evening. With life being such a roller coaster of emotions, positives, negatives and ever changing conditions; it's nearly impossible to paint an image of the future that would resemble any of the brush strokes of today.

I sit and ponder here and there for hours during the last few weeks as the reality of my situation has finally grabbed hold of me and won't let go. I'm drowning in my own destiny and I can't find the rope to pull myself out. They all seem to be slipping through my hands. I try and imagine what or where I will be in 30 years, and the five years before that and before that till I'm only five years away. How much will change not only in our time and space during that short amount of time, but how much will I change. Five years ago I barely resemble the piece of work that I was. I've grown and learned and developed more than I thought I ever could have- which has only made me realize how much potential I truly have.

Putting the ideas on the table is one of the easiest things for me. Following my gut on which one feels best is not. I lay out the seeds of my life and try and decide which one to give sunlight. Most of them are very ambitious plants to be growing and even possessing these rare seeds probably says something about the way I'll be able to sew. I look at a life that would be normal and as great as it would be to do what every else seems to do, I feel uninspired by it. If extraordinary is the sunshine of my life, then challenge would have to be the water in which I feed on. Those two things figured out it's off to the last and final thing: my base, my soil, what will support me through torrential challenge and the heat of extraordinary. That's probably why there's so much indecision in my decision. Do I stay in my current soil, it's dense with love and my roots are comfortable, or do I search for a different soil, not necessarily more rich, but filled with different nutrients.

Leaving the current friends I have made over the last few years its a tough decision that I shouldn't have to make, but one I'm confronted with. It unfortunately depends on the direction, the seeds I choose to sew, the place I need to go. I count the seeds, and the beginnings are endless. I look to plants who give themselves as they appeal to me. The selfless service I find intoxicating. The exception I find rewarding. I pause my life as easy as TV and look at the other plants growing around all of us, most of them weeds. They strangle the beautiful flowers. The ivy kills it's way to the top of shading trees, until there are fewer and fewer left. It's time someone puts and end to that reign, time to give shade and inspire flowers.

30 years, who knows what or where we'll be. I've got a lot of growing to do, but I will be a tree, large and magnificent with beautiful blossoming flowers. Which soil will I be in? The richest in the world, American soil.


Bleed for me, I bleed for you...

9/11

From Danny Nelson, aka Lt. Dan

As the eve of the 9/11 anniversary approaches, and the casual patriots feverishly thump their chests and a disconnected public vehemently rushes to weep in an obnoxious sea of yellow ribbon magnets and American flag decals, I feel obligated to note the local paper’s symbolic gesture of diplomatically concealing (eleventh page) the article: “Deadliest Month for US Troops in Afghanistan.”  The gesture is not an issue of media inaccuracy nor is it parochial journalism; rather, the gesture is symbolic of our nation’s catastrophic flaw and it’s most unforgivable exploit…  Americans have allowed themselves the hubris of memorializing the pain they personally felt on that day as the greatest catastrophe, when in reality the supreme tragedy lies in the nation’s subsequent willingness to ignore the tangible sacrifices of the men and women who have fought since 2001 to reconcile the injustices of that day.

The righteous warriors have done nothing but willingly accept the burden of war on themselves and their families.  Their lives have been indelibly changed, only to be recognized by the unnoticing majority when a heartrending anniversary compels them to do so.

Thus, as the nation is obliged to “remember” a horrific day, I humbly ask that it forever take ownership of the suffering felt by its silent warrior-minority since that day, because that burden will be carried well beyond the end of gratuitous news coverage.