EOBC, the final update
-- Ollie Ollie Oxen Free --
FOREWARD: I wrote this over a few weeks, so it is a little disjoint. It is also VERY LONG. So, make some popcorn and grab a soda. The following is the last EOBC update. I hope that you have enjoyed hearing of my Army (mis)adventures. It has been cathartic to write about them.
Wow, where to start. It has been a whirlwind three weeks. The end of this thing is so near and we all can smell it in the air. Consequently, tempers are flaring. One of the cadre attributes it to the fact that in the last two weeks, people start figuring that they do not have to try to get along because you will not have to see these people again very soon. I have to admit; there are several people who I won't mind if I don't see again. Sounds bad huh?
On the other hand though, I have made a few great friends. In a way I envy those going off to active duty. They will be able to make the most impact in the "new Army." I will have to settle for impacting the army one weekend at a time, which really is not a small thing now that the majority of the armed forces are reserve.
"THE FIELD"
OK, the field was split up into three phases: Sapper Stakes, STX, and FTX. Sapper Stakes takes one day and involves a whole lot of rucking. (Walking around with a 40+ lb ruck sack) The key here was to drink a lot of water -- which I did. I must have polished off at least a gallon of water by the end of the day.
It was a hot day that started out at "0 dark thirty" which is military speak for "up before the roosters and the paper boy." We were all herded into a cattle car with our rucksacks, Kevlar (what they used to call steel-pot) helmets, and M16 rifles. Usually the group is very chatty, but this particular morning it was very quiet. I was exchanging glances with some of my buddies. It's amazing what you can communicate with a slight head nod.
We got to the site where we were to start our five-mile ruck march and it was still very dark. I re-tied my boots and started making last-minute adjustments to my gear so that it was better balanced. The last thing you want on a ruck march is to have all of your equipment off balance or to have a canteen poking you in the wrong place for over an hour. The route was one of the most hilly that I have ever rucked. I completed it in 71 minutes.
Once we got to the training area, we were given a set of five eight-digit grid coordinates. Each coordinate marked a different station where we would be tested on different engineering tasks. Demolitions calculations, demolition supervisory / setup, bridge classification, mine field design, foreign mine recognition, and defensive survivability position calculations. I know that sounds like something very complicated, but it is really just figuring out how many holes that you can dig for tanks to hide in - with so many bulldozers - in a given amount of time. Well, a little more complicated than that, but that's the jist of it.
Finding the points wasn't too hard, but the terrain was pretty challenging (read steep hills), and it seemed like an eternity between points. The ticks were out in full force. And I have been given a lot of hell about this, but I ate two matches per day and never got even 1 tick. Now, there were people who didn't get ticks and who didn't eat matches.... but I am usually the main course for those little bastards. So, although unscientific and probably a bit superstitious, I am a believer in the two-match-a-day no tick plan!
We came back to the BOQ (Basic Officer Quarters) that night to prepare for STX (Situational Training Exercise) early the next morning. My feet were BEAT! After the ruck march that morning, one lieutenant's feet were so chewed up that she couldn't finish the rest of the day. Mine were sore, and a little blistered, but nothing that I figured that I couldn't tough through. I changed my socks twice a day and that was good enough.
The STX was great. We learned a lot and really bonded as a squad. I belong to 3rd squad, 1st platoon. We named ourselves "Third Herd" and the name stuck. No other squad has a name, which is kinda cool. I was definitely lucky to be with "The Herd." We kicked major butt on all of the squad assignments. We were the only squad that didn't have to re-do our obstacle breach.
What is an obstacle breach? I'm glad you asked. This is the part of my job that I would absolutely DREAD if I were tasked to do it in time of war. The basic scenario is this: The enemy has a bunch of concertina wire, some anti-tank, and some anti-personnel land mines laid out somewhere where they don't want you to go through. You, as an engineer, are the expert on land mines and have the job of clearing a path through the enemy's minefield. If your jaw isn't on the floor yet, just wait.
All minefields, to be effective, are covered by either artillery fire, or by direct rifle fire. So now imagine.... You have to send a private out to clear a path through the anti-personnel mines up to the first set of concertina. This man is called "the grappler" because he throws a grapple hook out in front of him and then drags it back, crawls on his belly with his helmet in the dirt up to the point where he threw the grapple hook and does it again until he reaches the first row of concertina wire. More-likely-than-not he will be killed. You can try to protect him by calling in artillery smoke and laying down heavy fire on the enemy when he's out there.... but the enemy knows that if he gets through, they'll be overrun with a battalion of tanks. So you have to have a few back-up grapplers. You can see why this task would be my choice only as a last resort.
Man, I am bumming myself out. I'll move on......
The remainder of the time was a Field Training Exercise where there was little help from the cadre. We secured a little area out in the middle of nowhere and ran 24hr operations. Major exhausting. Plus, we swapped out leadership roles daily. Luckily, I was only picked to be squad leader once. That was plenty.
As soon as I took over the squad, one of the other students (who was acting as platoon sergeant) told me that people in my squad had to give up their personal radios. Now mind you, Third Herd members went out and bought some of those little 14 channel Motorola radios with their own money so that we could (as a squad) communicate in the field. Well, the company radios (SINCGARS) were out of commission, so everyone in the company had to run a lot of communication on foot. You can imagine how the rest of the company was coveting our situation. I was told by one of the other lieutenants that I should instruct my squad to give up a few radios to give to others in the company.
I told him that I would ask for volunteers, but that I could not order people to hand over their personal property. The whole thing seemed really ludicrous. Of course, none of the people wanted to give up their radios, so we got the reputation for being the squad that wouldn't share.
I could go on and on about the field. There was a point in time that we had to wash our boots before we were allowed to eat chow. Mind you, when you are in the field (in the mud and rain) your boots are almost instantly muddy after taking a few steps and the only water available for washing boots was our drinking water. So, we had clean boots!
"RECOVERY (clean up and inspection)"
We were very glad to get back to civilization. Well, ok, Leonard Wood is not quite civilization, but it's better than out in the mud with the critters. We spent THREE DAYS cleaning weapons. As spotless as these weapons had to be when we turned them in, I believe that we shortened the life of them considerably.
The rest of the week was spent cleaning up the rest of the stuff that we took to the field including our personal gear and preparing our rooms for inspection with everything laid out. Nearly everyone slept on the floor that night so their display (on the bed) wouldn't be disturbed. Everything had to be folded a certain way to certain dimensions. And was to be placed in a certain way. And, of course, had to be immaculately clean. My inspection uniform was laid out and ready for when I woke up.
Of course, my room was not picked for inspection. Seems like when you put that much time and trouble into something, you would like it to have been for a reason. Don't get me wrong though. I'm glad that I didn't get picked. I'm sure that they would have found SOMETHING wrong and I would be doing something (like extra PT) for it.
Speaking of PT, my final PT score was over a 10 percent increase from the diagnostic I took when I first got there. I also knocked off over 1 minute from my two-mile run time. I was pretty happy about that.
"FORT LIVING ROOM"
A few days after the big inspection, we had a function called a "dining in." Which is a formal affair where we dress up in our best (most formal) uniform and drink and toast. I was even asked to make one of the toasts (yes, I kept it clean). I did make one goof up prior to the dining in... Luckily it wasn't too bad, but it wasn't too good either.
You see, we had a commandant's reception and when you go through the receiving line you are introduced to all of the big wigs that are attending. One of which was a Brigadier General. Who shook my hand and said, "So Lieutenant, where are you going?" I had seen him make a speech earlier and figured him as a man who had a sense of humor. So I answered "Ft. Living Room, sir." I knew immediately that I was very wrong about the sense of humor. He took a few moments to make a kind of a scowl, sneer, squint combination. He looked me dead in the eye. "What does that mean?" Which is only one step away from "What does that mean, Lieutenant?" Which is the military equivalent of your mother calling you by your first, middle, and last name. I backpedaled as fast as I could and avoided him for the rest of the evening. Oops.
"GRADUATION"
The day before graduation we were all pretty excited. I could almost smell the chlorine in my hot tub and the bouquet of the wine that I would be drinking while relaxing in it.
Of course, the Army wanted us to get in one last PT session. So we got up at 4:30 again and got down to the PT field. There was a lot of joking around and one of the cadre got pissed. The next thing you know, we were released at 16:00 to spend the rest of the day with our family and loved ones (who came to watch the graduation) but with one stipulation: 45 minute alert.
We had to be on alert recall for a make-up PT session. So when the cadre called our class leader we all had 45 minutes to be in PT uniform and in formation at the PT field. Effectively, this meant that we all had to stay in PT uniform and check in every 1/2 hour.
Colonel Colvin had come up for graduation and was helping me pack. So we had a quick dinner. About 22:00 (10pm) we got the call. So we showed up and got a lecture. This was the case of a few people screwing around and the rest of the class being punished.
Everyone, including myself, was very impressed that Colonel Colvin (a full-bird colonel) would come all the way from Texas to visit a lowly 2nd Lieutenant's graduation and help him move back. One day, when I have a soldier off at training I hope to do the same.
The Army is really big on rehearsals. Graduation was no exception. We practiced standing on cue and how to walk up and receive our diplomas. Something that I would argue should require a maximum of half-an-hour. We spent at least two. Maybe even three hours. Crazy. Then we had the ceremony. We sang the song for the Army Corps of Engineers and the Army song. There was a little pinning ceremony where we got the Corps of Engineers regimental crest put above our right pocket. We heard a few remarks from Colonel Rowan about how one of his privates lost his finger. Underscoring how we should be safety conscious officers. And the BG (yes, the one who I told I was going to Ft. Living Room) made a few comments and then we were done!
We all made a beeline for the sign out roster and took off. I was able to say good-bye to a few of the friends I had made and then it was off to Ft. Living Room, TX. The eight-hour drive really went by quickly.
So, now I am sitting at home, having a glass of wine, and doing all of those things that I had neglected while I was gone: Taxes (yes I filed an extension), car inspection, paperwork.... all of that good stuff. I'm also preparing for my symphony chorus re-audition on the 11th (I've heard that it is a tough one this year -- our 25th anniversary). I'm also preparing to go to Camp Beauregard, Louisiana from the 31st of May (Friday) through the 7th of July with my regular reserve unit. So I'll be fighting off mosquitoes and alligators. Doing the Army thing again. Lots of fun.
Best wishes,
Kliewer, Nicholas C.
2LT, EN, USAR
QUOTES:
"Don't write orders so that they can be understood. Write orders so that they cannot be misunderstood."
-CPT Clarke (Canadian Army Engineer)
"There is no need to rush, 'cause you'll just end up doing [stuff] again."
-SSG Hackett
"You've got 30 soldiers. Maybe 15 come to work. Maybe 5 will do the work"
-SSG Hackett
"Whenever two or more people gather to harm the United States of America, we're gonna find them and then we're gonna kill them.
-LTC Edwards
PIX:
My squad waiting in a bunker for demolition charges to be set. - (90K)
LT Kuhar explaining something to the rest of us. - (170K)
12 (really sixty nine) angry jurors in the bleachers. - (98K)
The one happy juror. - (18K)
Ribbon bridge opening up in the water. - (41K)
A bunch of Lieutenants standing on a section of ribbon bridge. - (63K)
Here we are learning bridge demolitions. - (58K)
Eating an MRE (Meal, Ready to Eat) for lunch. - (114K)
Standing in formation on a snowy day. - (87K)
Pulling security for the breach team. - (99K)
Being macho in the BOQ. LT. Pavlik and I did a sand-bag squat competition. - (58K)
A picture through NVG (Night Vision Goggles) of LT. Manning sleeping. - (43K)
3rd Herd with our squad "gang sign." - (70K)
Having a social drink before the General arrives. - (84K)
The three direct commission officers: Hilfiger, myself, and Michael Garcia. - (137K)
Tim, MacMillian, and myself -- happy the evening is almost over. - (65K)
JOKE:
A computer salesman visits a company president for the purpose of selling the president one of the latest talking computers.
Salesman: "This machine knows everything. I can ask it any quesstion and it'll give the correct answer. Computer, what is the speed of light?"
Computer: 186,282 miles per second.
Salesman: "Who was the first president of the United States?"
Computer: George Washington.
President: "I'm still not convinced. Let me ask a question.
Where is my father?"
Computer: Your father is fishing in Georgia.
President: "Hah!! The computer is wrong. My father died over twenty years ago!"
Computer: Your mother's husband died 22 years ago. Your father just landed a twelve pound bass.