Beware -- a new, secret society...

This past weekend I was officially taken in as a member of a secret society. Now, usually I'm not much for these kinds of things, but this one got me. Keep your eyes open -- it could get you too!!!

It all began as I was helping Pam with her shopping. We left the house Saturday morning and went to the Fairfield Mall. After that, she said she needed to stop at a Wal-Mart or somewhere to look for a Christmas jar to put some things in. Well, we stopped at the Meijer store in Huber Heights, you know -- the big, new one. That's where I first got the feeling that something or someone was watching me. I dropped Pam off at the front door and in she went. I pulled the truck down to one end of the parking lot to wait.

Da-dumm, da-dumm, da-dumm.


I also had the little hairs on the back of my neck tingling. But I looked around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary -- just cars. Of course, I didn't know what I was looking for.

Then Pam came out and we went up the road and stopped at the Target store (I know, what was I thinking stopping at that !!#^^@$# Frenchie store). Again, I dropped her off at the door and pulled down to the end of the lot to wait. It is then that the universe was revealed to me...things cleared up. As I happened to look about, I noticed I wasn't alone. There were others like me sitting in their cars and trucks, other men who dropped their wives off at the door, others waiting, waiting, waiting...

But they were not just sitting there. They had that look in their eyes -- new Christmas presents, a new 54" LG plasma TV, a blue ray player, new power tools, -- more power! Argh, Argh, Argh (For those who don't recognize it, that was the "Tim, the Tool Man" Club chant that was faintly wafting in and out of the engine revs in that part of the lot.). I could have also sworn that I heard a faint chorus of "Grandma got run over by a reindeer."

I was almost mesmerized by the overwhelming brotherhood of the whole thing when a lady that I thought was Pam came out of the front door. I didn't want to break the growing bond that was taking control, but it was cold and I had better go get her. Well, I pulled away and got closer to the door when I noticed it was not her. Sheepishly, I pulled back into the comfort of the Brotherhood and waited, not daring to look around and possibly see a thinly disguised smirk from one of the "Guys" -- that "tricked you" smile. I'm sure at least one of them was questioning my suitability for membership.

It seemed like an eternity, sitting there staring straight ahead, and then she really did come out. I have to admit I hesitated a bit and then slipped the truck into gear. I looked around to make sure I was not going to further embarrass myself by hitting a curb or light pole as I maneuvered my way to the fire lane where the real men parked. And that's when I first saw it -- the guy in the green mini-van kinda gave me a nod and a little smile -- it was like he was telling me not to worry. Everyone in the club has made that mistake at least once. Things will be OK. I think he was telling me that my membership was still good, and my initiation was done. Just don't let it happen again.

I figure if I could get forgiveness and reassurance from a guy in a mini-van with a "My kid is an Honor Student at ..." sticker on the back bumper, then things were really going to be OK.

Oh, yeah, the hair on my neck was up in the Meijer lot because I had the back window cracked a bit. Duh!!

I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. (Author Unknown)

Hooah

Boy, I sure miss this...

It's hard to believe that it was almost 10 years ago that I completed my first solo cross country flight as a student pilot. Boy was that a milestone in my life. Imagine, having not only the authority to take someone's airplane all around Ohio by myself, but also the talent to do so. I mentioned in my last flying entry that the first solo around the pattern was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Well it was. However, multiply that by 3 pattern landings each at two different airports -- Zanesville, Ohio (ZZV) and Athens, Ohio (UNI) and a total of 4.2 hours of flying and you might come close to knowing what this was like. I chose those two airports because, as you know, I grew up in Zanesville and always wanted to fly there, and I went to college in Athens at Ohio University. Zanesville Municipal Airport used to be a stop for the old Allegheny Airlines which later became Lake Central which later was absorbed into a new airline called U.S. Airlines. I had an uncle who used to fly for the Navy during WWII. Later in his life he got his wings back and owned a Bonanza. He flew into Zanesville every once in a while and one time he took Pam and me up for a ride. That was one of those things that served to heighten my desire for wings. Anyway, back to the cross country solo.

After Trent (my CFI) reviewed my flight plan, listened in on the weather briefing I got from Dayton, and went over emergency procedures with me one more time, I took off from Sidney (I12) and headed east. Now I can't say for sure that I was the most excited pilot in the area that morning or not, bit I know Trent was excited for me ( he was also excited because he was the one who unleashed me and if anything went wrong, it was his butt). But also, I think the airplane was excited for me. You see, a good pilot talks to his plane as he is doing pre-flight. At least I read that somewhere. So, as I climbed all over it that morning, I said how excited I was the two of us were going to get away from pattern work and get out into the wild, blue, yonder.

I was about 15 minutes out of Sidney when I had to make my first decision. Since I had already decided to avoid any controlled airspace, I had to figure out if I wanted to go north of Columbus or South to avoid the Class-C airspace of Port Columbus. I chose north because there was a big, easy to see lake north of the city which, if properly navigated, would keep me away from anyone in the Columbus tower. Since the prevailing winds were out of the southwest, I would get a little northerly push anyway. That would help with fuel economy too. Once past Columbus, I kept a close eye on the chart to see if there were any other easily recognizable landmarks. One that popped up right away was the big basket at the Longaberger Headquarters. This is a huge, multi-story building that is shaped like one of their baskets. This indicated I was getting close to Newark. The next big natural feature was Dillon Lake. Once I saw that, I knew I was right on track. The Zanesville airport would be up ahead just a bit. I made contact with Zanesville flight opns. and was cleared for pattern operations and landing. Since it used to handle commercial traffic, Zanesville's runway was huge -- or so it seemed in this little plane. I taxied to a tie down spot and then went in to complete my required duties -- sign in at the pilot's "guest book" (this proved that I was really there), tell them what a nice airport they had (this is a time honored pilot thing, and it is also good PR), get my log book signed off by the person manning the desk, and then go to the bathroom. About 15 minutes later, I was back in the plane requesting permission to take off. On to the second leg of this epic flight, and south to Athens.

One nice thing about flying from Sidney to Zanesville was all the farm fields en route. They served as a reassuring reminder that if anything went totally wrong, I had plenty of places to land and get help. The second leg -- Zanesville to Athens -- was not so reassuring. You see, that is all hill country and lots of forest land. There were open fields, but they usually didn't have any approach lanes and were hilly with lots of BIG rocks and creeks. No problem. Just fly the plane. I stayed on course and pretty soon I saw the dome of the Convocation Center which meant I was getting near Athens. Once I landed, I did the same routine as in Zanesville, except that the airport manager came out to meet me. He said I was to call Trent. Great!! Now what. Trent wondered how the flight had gone so far and said I should not waste any time getting back because he thought the weather was going to get dicey and I could lose my ceiling before too long. So off I went.

On the way back, I had another decision to make. I could fly straight west below Dayton and WPAFB and above Cincinnati and then turn north and hightail it to Sidney. That was my original plan that bright sunny morning. But it seemed like a long way to go now with the weather getting crappy at home. So I took the straight line approach back to I12. In doing this I would have to stay a bit south of Columbus, but also stay away from Wilmington and the Air National Guard flight training ranges in that area. I was a pretty good navigator with a map, so that was the route I chose. There was only one time where I wanted to pull over and ask directions. But then I remembered real men don't pull over and ask for no stinking directions (especially in an airplane), so I would just find my own way. And then I remembered what Trent told me about those big water towers -- you know, the ones with the city names on them. He said they were build like that for pilots in the old days, before new-fangled navigation devices. He also said something about them being handy for rookies on cross country flights. Ahaa!! , said the rookie. I thought I knew where I was, so I dropped down about a thousand feet, circled the tower once and discovered I was absolutely right on!! Hooah. From there it was a little hop over Springfield and north up the east side of I-75 to Sidney.

Trent was right. The weather was closing down quickly and visibility was crapping out. If I hadn't been almost over the airport, I would have missed it the first time. Anyway, I was back and that milestone was completed and logged in the book. What an absolutely GREAT experience.!!

"The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? - it is the same the angels breathe." (Mark Twain)

Hooah

A reason to celebrate ...

I think I mentioned a few articles ago that Pam and I went to a party for an old Sergeant Major of mine who had just returned from his third tour in this war. I received a Christmas card from him and his wife, Pat, along with an article from their home town newspaper. The article pointed out that this is the first time since 2003 that Wink and his whole family has been together for the holidays. He has 3 sons, all of whom were or are in the Army, and 2 of whom are currently serving. Anyway, I got to thinking how Wink's and my paths have been intertwined over the past 20 some years and I found some pictures that kind of highlight some of it.

In my command days with the 447th MP CO (CS), Wink was one of the platoon sergeants and would have been my First Sergeant when we went to the first Gulf War. We would have been a kick-ass team, but fate stepped in and things changed. I took the 447th off to Germany while I had to give him up to be the First Sergeant of another unit who was particularly weak on good leadership. Kind of like balancing the talent, or spreading the wealth. There was a lot of that going on in the Reserves just before that war. Interestingly enough, however, he and I ran in to each other at 2330 hours in the snack bar at the flight ops. building at McGuire AFB, just as he and his unit were ready to take off for Kuwait and I and mine were leaving for Germany. What a coincidence. What were the chances?

Well, we got back from our respective Theaters and went back to Reserve life and trained some more, hoping we would never need any of this again. We worked hard but when it was time to celebrate holidays, we would do our best to show the families what it was that we did all those weekends and annual training weeks wherever. This picture shows Wink setting up a display in the G-3 section at our headquarters for a family day.

And then along came 9/11 and everything changed again. Again Fate stepped in and shuffled the cards we were to be dealt. Because of a heart attack two days before the unit mobilized for a deployment to Cuba, I missed that trip with him. However, early in the following year, I was cleared for duty and went to Iraq while assigned to Third Army. When everyone finally got back, we did what Soldiers have done for centuries following a deployment -- we partied. This picture was at Wink's house.

Interestingly enough, we both took on new assignments after that tour. He again went to Iraq as part of a small detachment and I went to the Pentagon. Mine was one of those "assigned to with additional duty elsewhere" tours. Anyway, as Fate would have it we again ran into each other late one night in 2006 in a camp in Iraq. We had a couple of soldiers who were sitting in a nearby break area take our picture. They were amazed when we told them how many times the Sergeant Major's and my paths had crossed in wars. Kinda like something from some book.

I finished that 18-month tour and then retired from the Army. Wink came back home, transferred to the Brigade HQ expecting a break only to be deployed once again. There wouldn't be any more late night meetings in some far away land, but it wouldn't be the last time a bunch of old soldiers would get together. Here is a picture from that most recent gathering this past November.
Just in case you were wondering, from left to right, there's quite a bit of experience in this picture: Me(Ret.) - 39 years, CSM(Ret.) Dave - 44 years, SGM Wink(still serving) - 30+ years, 1SG (Ret.) Bob - 42 years. My math says that's at least 155 years worth of service.

I hope you won't take issue with me if I take a small liberty with Shakespeare's quote, but I feel it best sums up the picture above. Those who have been there will understand:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that "serves" with me shall be my brother.

Hooah

Command has its privileges...

I haven't written any Army stories for a while so as I was going through some old pictures, I thought I would take a minute to tell you about these two pictures.

I was the battalion commander for the 391st MP BN (EPW) and happened to also be the principal at Anna High School in March of 1997. One thing that I learned quickly was that small rural communities celebrate some really neat little festivals, the kind that would hardly even get noticed in other places. McCartyville, a little crossroads village which is part of the Anna School District and happens to be where we live, breaks out of the winter doldrums on St. Patrick's Day each spring, recalling its Irish heritage with a 5K run, a 5-6 unit parade and some high-spirited partying at the local establishment called Patricks.

While there are some very good runners in the community, the 5K is mostly for fun and is not taken seriously by everyone. In fact, there have been one or two people who don't run the whole way who have been known to have a green beer at the rest break.

As I said, I was the principal at the time and wanted to do something to help with the parade. I was also interested in getting the U.S. Army a little more visibilty in that neck of the woods. So, I told the commander of a subordinate MP unit in Troy to conduct a road march/route recon exercise with his objective being to find the Village of McCartyville, plot a route that would take them there and execute a plan that would have them there (the objective, in Army terms) exactly at the starting time of the parade. They would then participate in the parade and gather intelligence on the locals in the process (had to tie in some Army stuff for them to do).

One of the things I always told my junior officers and sergeants was: If you tell people where to go and what to do, but not how to get there or how to do it, you'll be amazed at the results. The weather in March here in West Central Ohio can be quite unpredictable, and this year was no exception. It snowed the day before and was quite cold the morning of the parade. But that wasn't going to stop them. Besides, we had one young Soldier who had just joined that particular unit and I wanted to show the locals what he looked like in his uniform, standing behind his weapon, out of the top of a HUMVEE. My superiors would have called this a spontaneous recruiting event--you know, the U.S. Army in support of local community events.

Well it worked and they amazed me. As I fully expected, they found the place quite easily and arrived about 5 minutes early. The kids in town thought it was really cool, especially when the troops stopped after the parade and parked in the church parking lot for about a half hour to let the kids climb all over the vehicles (The platoon leader told me this was their intelligence gathering time. But I know better -- one of the locals told me this was when they gave the Soldiers some coffee so they could warm up. Well, maybe this was intelligence gathering, who knows).

I don't know that this unit got any recruites out of this, but the troops had fun, the company commander and the detachment commander got brownie points with their battalion commander (me), and the community got to see some Soldiers up close. I think the National Guard took credit for this and got some recruits, but what the heck.

This reminded me of a saying attributed to Ronald Reagan: Some people live an entire lifetime and wonder if they have ever made a difference in the world, but Soldiers don't have that problem.


The patriot volunteer, fighting for country and his rights, makes the most reliable soldier on earth. Stonewall Jackson

Hooah