CW2 Michael Shoup
TF Saber A Co 1/140
FOB Diamondback
APO AE 09334

There will be more updates, just as soon as I get one of those oft cherished, rarely discovered days off.

CW2 Michael Shoup
A Co 1/140 AVN
BLDG 56413
North Ft. Hood, TX 76544

I’ve been busy.

There, you’re caught up.

I’m currently spending a lovely two weeks at Camp Roberts or Camp Bob, as we affectionately know it, California’s personal military base.  Built in WWII, I’ve been told it processed the most soldiers through basic training during the war.  Nowadays it serves as a training and processing center for Cali’s Guard.  You literally step into the past upon entering the gate and swear you just heard a snippet of an Andrews Sisters’ tune float on the wind.

In other words, nothing has changed.  The barracks still stand, built by German POWs.  Didn’t know Cali had those, did you?  Soldier’s names forever carved in the support beams spanning from then to now.  Bed springs and mattresses from what really feels like that era sometimes.  Massive macadam parade fields long since cracked and taken over by weeds.  Most of the buildings abandoned and collapsing because, we assume, of the prohibitive costs in asbestos removal.  A place where you walk into the barracks and the field mice look at you like you’re the one intruding.  If Hollywood ever gets a hold of the place, they’ll either use it for a period piece or a B grade Nazi zombie movie.  Naturally, I digress.

Several of us are here from Alpha and Bravo companies completing the ‘basic’ tasks that all soldiers are required to know.  They call it T4T.  Humvee driving, grenade throwing, IED training, Combat Life Saver (first aid on the grand level) and a slew of other mundane tasks that an aviation unit will NEVER do.  It’s a pre-deployment thing.  They love it, we hate it.  Status quo.

Another program they run here is SRP which runs through the gauntlet of financial and medical paperwork in preparation for going overseas.  We did this back in February, it’s comparable to getting a root canal.  To every single tooth.

Now the several of us are here on our own, not really attached to any unit because ours have already gone through T4T.  It’s been nice on one hand because we get left alone, but it can suck because we have no support when a snag pops up.  Like today.

Someone thought it would be a grand idea to squeeze SRP into the middle of T4T.  Good on them, I’ve already done it, so have fun, it sucks.  What? I have to check in anyway in the morning?! Alright, fine.  What’s the uniform, PTs? Ok (PTs would be our gym clothes, nondescript shorts and t-shirt, no name tags or rank).

When we went through SRP they had a sergeant running things and acting like she was a three star general.  She was so overbearing the Colonel had to have a little ‘rank structure’ chat with her.  I aptly named her Sgt. Slaughter.

So of course who is sitting there waiting for all of us to stroll in? None other than the lovely sergeant. In full Slaughter mode.  Guess who I have to talk to?

Me: I’ve already completed SRP, so I’m just checking in and then leaving.

Slaughter: (with this utter look of disgust on her face) When did you go through?

Me: February

Slaughter: That was too long ago, you aren’t deploying until later.

Me: Negative, sergeant. We’re not with this unit, we leave soon.  We’re with the 1/140th.

Slaughter: (with utter disdain) No, you guys don’t leave till later.

Me: Really?  That’s news to me.  Things change since yesterday?

Slaughter: I can’t release you without the Captain’s consent.

Me: We already have his consent. We’re only up here for T4T.

Slaughter: I can’t release you.

Me: (sensing a pattern and sighing) Do you know my name, sgt.?

Slaughter: No. (remember, I’m wearing PTs)

Me: Great! Have a pleasant day.

And I proceeded to walk right back out the door with the entire day off in front of me.  Anonymity can be such a beautiful thing.

I gave one of the officers a heads up who had to sit through this stuff.  He just sent me a text convinced she’s Nazi youth.

On a related note, because of the encroaching deployment the password protection will be going back up shortly. If you don’t have or remember the password, email me and I’ll send it.

We went out for a goggle flight a couple nights ago and my instructor, never one for the milk runs, wanted me to run us out through Victorville and over into Salton Sea.  It was a nice night to fly: smooth, clear, quiet and zero moon illumination.  Nada, zip, zilch.  This meant absolutely no ambient light in any direction for a good ten miles around Salton Sea.

That just happens to be an unlit airport.

And really more a dirt strip than an airport.

Surrounded by other dirt that happens to be the same color.

This means you have absolutely no contrast, which means very little to no depth perception.  Now go try and land there, never mind simply finding the place.  What’s that, I forgot to mention that because it’s a dirt strip you get all the dust you’ve ever wanted and then some, kicked up by a 22,000 lb contraption that creates its very own tornado?  Yeah, about that.  Just keep your eye on the aircraft that’s a disc and a half in front of you while you’re enveloped in the cloud.

Click here to view the embedded video.

You carrier jockeys can come talk to me when you land on that postage stamp at night with no lights.  In formation.

There was a Christmas gift transaction at work in which I had to play the middleman and transfer funds between people.  When the total charge came through, I thought I’d be cute and demand the total sum be deposited in unmarked ones and fives.  The second after I hit send on that text, my brain immediately reeled with the vision of her sitting there laughing maniacally and avowing that “it was on like Donkey Kong” to no one in particular.  Quickly running through a damage control assessment I realized it was the day before New Years and there was no way she’d be able to get to a bank easily enough before she saw me today.

My assessment skills in damage control suck.  Having completely forgotten about the debacle this morning, she walks into the office and tosses a brown paper bag in my lap.  Sure enough, in the bag is a neatly stacked bundle of ones and fives totaling $548.  At least I hope there’s $548 there, I can’t count higher than 312.

Well played, madam.

But I think I can already see Mother Rucker through the front windshield!

I had been planning to run this banner forever and a day while I was still in flight school but the chance never really showed itself.  Then of course as I was frantically trying to leave this little burgh, I remembered I wanted to get the shots while the sun was setting.  Unfortunately, the packing took longer than planned and it was dark before I could get over.  But enough about my excuses, let’s talk boll weevils!

Back in the early 1900s when the stereotypical crop to grow in the south was cotton, Enterprise was no exception.  The boll weevil, a nasty looking little bugger, moved right in and decimated the crops forcing the town to branch out in farming in order to sustain itself.  Still being a typical southern town, they decided to switch over to peanuts and flourished in an expanding economy that even cotton couldn’t bring in.  In 1919, the statue was erected and still graces the main street intersection today.  It is said to be the only monument dedicated to an insect.

It’s also said to be the source of some of the world’s worst puns. Unbollweevilable, right?

As for me, I am back in Enterprise and remembering with every drop of sweat that falls from my brow at 8am why I love this place SO much!  I’m actually back for the better part of 6 weeks attending the ALSE (Aircraft Life Saving Equipment) course.  Army pilots have several additional duties along with flying, running the ALSE shop tends to be one of the first ones for newer pilots.  For the most part, the course basically covers all the inspections, servicing and maintaining of the first aid and survival kits on the aircraft along with the vests and helmets we wear while flying.  The course also includes a week of learning how to use a sewing machine.  Yes, that’s right folks, your tax dollars hard at work teaching me how to create this:

To make matters worse, Los Al has been flying its collective tail off as more people are returning from flight school and some of these pilots actually like flying on a regular basis. Shocking, I know! It doesn’t help that the field is also short a large number of mechanics and a lot of the birds are down for pre-deployment modifications. Mixing those numbers together created a total of ONE flyable Blackhawk for the week. That’s out of 16. Because that’s not enough Shafty factor, as most of you know, July is my birth month PLUS it’s the second to last week of July PLUS I was scheduled to leave as soon as the eval was finished for Havasu and then leave from there for a 6 week jaunt in ‘Bama. Ah, that’s more like it.

I felt like Drago walking around on Monday reminding people that if they broke the Hawk, I’d break them. Tuesday arrived and miraculously the Hawk was chugging right along. I began thinking I might pull this one out smoothly. Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll learn either. When the crew arrived that was to fly the Hawk after my eval, I clued into the fact that something might be amiss since I was still waiting for my instrument evaluator (IE). One “pleasant” phone call later and we had remedied the situation. He had canceled the flight last week and they had forgotten to take it off the schedule. Or let me know.

Now throw into the mix that IE’s are not a dime a dozen or readily available in a Guard unit along with the fact that the flight schedule is set in concrete a week out and Shafty is winking at me. We scramble to find another IE and not only somehow do that but bump an understanding pilot on the afternoon schedule for the very next day (my birthday). Take that, Shafty!

I proceed home and since I’m planning to leave for 7 weeks the next day, I pack. Also being a bit perturbed and pre-birthday-ish I have a glass of wine or 4. The next morning I’m rudely awakened by a phone call long before I’m supposed to get up. The crew that was to fly the Hawk after my eval? Yep, they broke it. They need me to go in early and help test fly the bird after it’s fixed to bring it back up to flight status. Guess Shafty didn’t like the wink. For those counting, don’t worry, I was outside my 12 hours but that doesn’t mean I was happy.

I figure by completing the test flight we can have the Hawk up early which means I can get the eval knocked out earlier and be on the road for Havasu sooner. Sound reasoning, right? Sure enough, the bird is ready to go by 10. The IE? He wants to have his lunch and will be there at the scheduled time of 12:30. Ok, no problem, I’ll just have everything ready to go so he can just hop in and we’ll go. I failed to remember this particular IE likes to talk. To anyone. About anything. He arrived at Flight Ops around 12:15, I finally dragged him to the aircraft at 1:00. I finally got him IN the aircraft at 1:30 because he wanted to talk. We got off the ground at 2:00 because he wanted to talk. It took me thirty minutes to complete the approaches required for the eval, he talked the whole time. We landed so I could get out and the understanding pilot from earlier could fly the rest of his period. I almost couldn’t get out of the aircraft because the IE wanted to keep talking.

I was finally free of my APART requirements and headed for Havasu. Schweet! By the way, I just left my sunglasses in the aircraft that is lurching off the ground. Five bucks says the IE is talking to them right now.

You’d think the story ended there. If only…

I head home and frantically load the car with everything I’ll need for 7 weeks hoping I’ll be able to beat the afternoon traffic. I’m finally on the road at 3:30. Can you see where this is going? Ha! You’re wrong. Believe it or not, the 91 traffic is pretty light. Woohoo!  I’m home fr…ah crap what’s this?! Ok, maybe you’re right. I hate you! It takes me 2 hours to get through the Cajon Pass! I finally peel myself out of the car at 9:30 in Havasu where it’s still 103. Sadly, this is still more appealing than the weather that awaits me in ‘Bama.

Think the story ends there? Nope

I unpack the car and finally begin to relax but there is something just starting to itch in the back of my head. I can’t quite place it because I’m tired, mayb…Oh Come On! You HAVE to be kidding me!

My carry on bag is still sitting on the bed with my uniforms. In Buena Park.

-sigh-

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

That crowd was deafening! But then they hadn’t seen the Dodgers hat yet.