Tuesday, January 10, 2006

The Smell of Carbon

Before I explain this particular day, let me just touch on our afternoon PT yesterday, which consisted of a little trip to the gym. There were two girls, most likely civilian, all prettied up and wearing Sporty Spice getup. I'm sure they didn't enter a military gym at peak hours for male attendance on purpose, no way. Then they walked into the WEIGHT room. Because we all know Barbie likes to build muscle. So naturally, the weight room was packed. They must have been soldier's wives or something.

Now, I'm aware that women like attention, and that's great and everything, but there IS such a thing as overdoing it. And yes, I looked, and yes, I liked. But that shit pisses me off. For one thing, there is almost NO such thing as a single girl on an army post. I might as well thumb through a Maxim. Atleast then, I can say what I want and not get in trouble for it. Insert smiley face with the tongue hanging out HERE to denote the fact that I'm attempting to be funny. Thank you.

Now that I'm done complaining about that, God peed on us a bit as we did PT today, but that really isn't news. Rain in Washington, who would have guessed it. After our 9:00 formation, we drew our rifles out of the arms room, and then pretty much waited until noon. At that point, we wet weather gear and full battle rattle and hopped into the back of a deuce-and-a-half, weaving back and forth and being rocked around until we arrived at one of the rifle ranges.

For the daylight part of our outing, we just had a standard rifle qualification. For the first time, I qualified as an Expert rifleman. I figured I'd be lucky to finally even earn a Sharpshooter badge, so I was pretty fired up. That's one requirement for the Expert Infantry Badge down, lots more to go. After basking in the rainy sunlight of my glory, my friends and I sat in a building on the range and choked down MREs. I was fortunate enough to get the worst MRE man has ever seen for the second time in a row: the cheese omellete. Luckily I thought ahead, and brought along a spare main course (a chicken patty with the grill marks painted on there, for smartass purposes, I'm sure).

Once the sun decided to call it a day, we resumed the firing line with PEQ2 infrared laser sights and night vision goggles. You'd think we'd be given a couple minutes to figure the NODs (goggles) and the lasers out, but nope. Throw 'em on, get in the prone, start shooting. By some miracle, I managed to get all 20 rounds in the target. The stars must have been aligned just right, or karma decided to pay me back or something. Today is going too good, so maybe the barracks will get sucked into a black hole right after I post this or something to even things out.

Once we came back, we cleaned our weapons as always, and our platoon sat in the briefing room (called the War Room) and BSed about anything and everything, up to and including Howard Stern's new radio station or whatever. It was around this time that I was informed that I had been voted as the first of us to receive an award for our mortar performance. When we came back from The Art Of Blowing Shit Up, we all wrote a name down to vote for who we thought did the best out there. I voted for the gunner in my team, because he was kicking ass.

I received the most votes because our mortar section consists of smartasses, and I'm not the only one.

This means that I'll receive some ribbon to wear on my Class A's, and it sounds like a whole big ordeal, and I'm actually not too happy about it. I hate getting attention like that PERIOD, but getting that for something I didn't even earn? That's bullshit. My platoon sergeant laughed, told me to shut up and take it, and that its worth promotion points. This is also the guy who has been designated the Re-Enlistment NCO and (hopefully) jokes that whether we know it or not, we are all re-upping, because he'll do the paperwork for us, signature included. Hah, good luck. I'm no lifer. This is just a four year hobby. Insert winking smiley face here.

Work ended at 8:30 tonight. It begins at 6:30 tomorrow morning. Time for bed, to do it all over again. The weekend should get here quicker this way. Happy trails til next time.


Jen said...

Congratulations and quit griping :)

Mark Partridge Miner said...

hey man, i like your blog. keep it up.

BigD said...

Hey Suspect,
I wanted to see if I could comment on your old blogs...then you will have to go back and read them all again to see what I said...ha ha. Sorry about the MRE's, they seem to be really horrible. "Choking them down" turns out to be a common reference in all your posts. Congrats on your "Best Mortarman In a Comedy or Short Film" award. I hope you got an Oscar instead of just a ribbon! Why do you hate getting attention again? That's what happens when a bunch of smart asses vote on something...sort of like how GWB got elected! I also liked the part about the "Barbie's" in the gym...I am glad you steered clear of their evilness! Can we say bee-atchs! Gotz to go, Big D