The last time I wrote was July, and now it's September already! I really do mean to keep up with everything, but time just flies when you're having fun! I can't honestly say that I am having fun, but I'm still alive and kicking so that's good enough for me.
One of the main reasons I like to write in this blog during the "off season" as I like to call it, is because I'm able to keep up with the writing skills; it's true that if you do not use it, you lose it. So, as with anything, we have to keep the skills sharp. This is true for many things in the army too, such as shooting, physical training, etc.
The training season has been in effect for quite some time now. We've had several aerial gunneries and two JRTC training rotations to Louisiana. Upcoming events include high altitude training in Colorado and a joint service exercise in Nevada. While it would be impossible and exhausting to attend every event, I assure you that the wealth is well spread among all members of our beloved unit.
I am currently in Fort Eustis, Virginia for a Non Commissioned Officer leaders' course. It is also sort of a job refresher that advanced maintainers attend. It's supposed to prepare me for a job that I already do (technical inspector) but my skills are so finely tuned that I didn't need the course to become one ha! It's weird to come back here, as I was here in 2005 for advanced individual training after basic training. This is where the new soldiers come to learn about the AH-64D Apache and the job that will carry them through their time in the Army.
I must admit, it is nice to come back here as an NCO rather than a new army soldier, although this place has changed considerably since my last visit. The lack of discipline amongst the new soldiers is astounding; they've recently done away with drill sergeants in AIT to create an atmosphere that is supposedly more like the "real Army." All I feel is that these new privates are going to have a rude awakening when they reach their first assigned units. No worries though; there are plenty of good NCOs in the 101st that will be more than willing to get these privates ready for the upcoming deployment, myself included. This is my last HOORAH and I'll be damned if it goes bad because of some young buck.
We've been doing some physical training regimens here that put the PT program at Fort Campbell to shame. My body has been sore every day this week; the never ending pull ups and lap after lap in the meter pool is whipping me back into the kind of shape I was in after basic training. After the body has healed I'll feel like a renewed man. I must admit though, I am required to exert a considerably increased amount of effort to keep up with 23 year old Specialist Gratsch of four years ago! Getting older is not fun, but I am getting better looking by the day!
I've been here since August 20, and we get to leave September 23; time is slowly creeping. I am ready to see my girlfriend and get back to Fort Campbell. Unfortunately, 12 days after I get back I have to pack my bags again for a three week stint in Colorado. Lovely. I can't wait until this training season is over! I've been really thinking about Afghanistan a lot lately. I don't know if it's because I just want to get the whole thing started again or if I have a sense of anxiety about it. There's definitely a lot better things to write about, as I feel these posts are quite boring for readers. Dreams have even started to creep their way back in; nothing bad, just dreams about being over there and experiencing some of the things. OK, I guess rocket attacks are bad, but only if they hit something. If they don't it's simply a fireworks display. I guess I'm just ready to start the whole process over. At times, I can't help but feel I just got back. Then, there's a short pause, take a breath, and it's time to go back again!
That's about all I have for now. I remember in my old Afghanistan posts talking about how I wanted to be Sergeant Gratsch. Well, now Sergeant Gratsch wants to be Staff Sergeant Gratsch. Staff SGT is the highest an enlisted person can go in a six year army career, and that is now my new goal. I have already achieved a promotable status when I went to the promotion board in June, so now I just have to wait for the promotion points level to come down to the number of points I currently have. Luckily, upon completion of the course I'm currently in I'll earn more promotion points. Staff Sergeant lingers on the horizon.
On a more serious side note, I want to mention the anniversary of 9/11 that came and went during my stay in Virginia. It's hard to believe that it's already been eight years since that day, and what I am doing now in 2009 is a direct result of those terrible events. I am glad that I'm actually carrying out what I vowed to do that day; I'll never go back on anything that I plan to do. The guys and I were discussing what we were doing on that day, and it's very reminiscent of the attack on pearl harbor. The older generation can remember exactly what they were doing that day, and it's the same for myself and several others for the fall of the towers. People seem to only be concerned about it on the anniversary though; on that day we want to be charitable and honorable and have memorials. What about every other day of the year? This isn't a novelty. We should always remember these events, every day, and make it a goal to be good to each other and help and realize how awesome life can be. It's like the people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas. God is important on more than just those two days if you are truly committed.
All of this talk could go on to several more ramblings about our country and the government and everything else in the world, but in reality all we need to do is remember the past, learn from mistakes, and drive on. We might be down, but we are not out. I miss my family, my friends, and my lovely girlfriend. I want to go home; but we have to do what we have to do. America demands it. And we answer!
Cheers,
-J
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Make it So
And yet again, it has been quite some time since I have posted on this thing; but I want to keep it ongoing, even though we are only still in garrison. I've been doing pretty well since my last post. I get to go home to Ohio often, as well as spend time with my girlfriend, which is a blessing. We spend as many weekends together as time and space allow us to, and we even got a chance to travel to Myrtle Beach. More often than not we speak of life after the Army, which makes it difficult to be IN the army. The mission continues; so must I.
One thing that has always bothered me is that I am getting older, and I have no claim. I have nothing to my name, except a blue 2002 Pontiac Trans Am that I love dearly. There's no house, no lawn, no family, no dog and no career. In terms of career moves, my six years in the Armed Forces was a bad choice. When I get out I will start anew, building from the ground up, lagging far far behind my peers from college, who've already settled into their careers and are protecting their nest egg. Living the dream. I want that dream so bad it hurts to think about it, as sometimes I feel like I am in prison. I live in a barracks with a bunch of young kids, many of which lack the discipline to be in the army at all. Because I am not married, I get no BAH (basic allowance for housing, extra $ to live) so that I can live off post in a house or apartment. Living off post is a bad idea without BAH (I did it in 2007). All it does it eat up savings and create a lot of unnecessary stress. I try to call the barracks a dorm to make myself feel better, but it never works because I'm too old to be living in a dorm as well! I try so hard to get this out of my head, but no matter what I feel like I deserve better than this. I've worked hard, and I've been through a lot, and all I have is a dorm room. So what I do, is I wake up every morning, grit my teeth, and say to myself, "you are saving a lot of money for your dream, and for your future family. Suck it up Jeremy." And that's what I do, because I made this choice, and I brought it all upon myself. Some day, I hope that it will all pay off somehow. After all, the Army is not my career choice. It's just a chapter in life I chose to read, so that there will be no doubt that I've earned my right to be a citizen of the United States of America, and helped in our ongoing mission against tyranny, terrorism, and inequality.
I've also been put into a new job; it is considered a promotion because of the responsibility entailed. No longer do I work on the systems of our beloved Apache, but I inspect and sign off on those who still do. Known as technical inspectors (T.I.), we are the last step in the maintenance scheme, deciding whether an aircraft is flyable or grounded, and if the work performed on the aircraft is to standard, allowing the Apache to return to "fully mission capable." It is an important job because we have the final say, but now I have no soldiers to take care of, and I've been moved to a different office obviously. Sure, I still see all of the guys I shared my life with in war all the time, but I don't lead them. There is no one for me to lead except myself. We must focus on the aircraft and nothing else, which is understandable. I do like my new job, but I miss my old one too.
With that said, I still hate garrison life. After being to war and back, I do not like being in a fighting unit that isn't fighting. Basically, our job means jack shit over here in the states, except for training up the new soldiers for the next rotation. Before, we had to work ourselves to the bone to get an aircraft up because it HAD to be on the next mission. Lack of a mission dictates that people become extremely complacent and find it hard to care about their job at all. To make matters worse, we recently found out that the less than ideal aircraft we fell in on back here at Ft. Campbell will not even be accompanying us back to war! The diligent effort put into making these crates airworthy has turned them into nothing more than training pieces. That's just a hit in the groin.
The training season has officially started, and you can hear the veterans' moans when they have to leave their families here at Ft. Campbell to travel to some place like Louisiana for war time training. I'll be heading to Fort Knox and a base in Las Vegas for similar training later this year. My next focus is a Non Commissioned Officer school that I'm attending. One phase of the class is here at Ft. Campbell; no big deal. Upon completion, I'm traveling back to my old stomping grounds at Ft. Eustis, VA for another phase of the course that lasts one month.
We do so much training away from Campbell that we might as well go back to Afghanistan right now; we are going back anyways. At least over there everything we do means something. We can save lives, and take ones that need to be taken. We can make a difference instead of sitting on our thumbs. And, on top of that, we get good pay. More money means a better chance of my dream coming true later on. While I am not trying to get blown up, there are low points where I miss the action and the excitement of certain events. I want to get it over with, because this next rotation is my last HOORAH, and then I part ways with the Army forever. Something so sweet, just out of reach. I'll never forget my roots though, and why I joined in the first place. There is an ongoing mission; one that I can only participate in for so long. After that, someone will fill my boots and carry on. Hopefully, that person is a patriot. Until then, we give all that we have. We sacrifice and commit. Like I said before, I'm not anxious to die....only anxious to matter. Thank you for letting me vent; I rise anew.
Cheers,
-J
Here is a photo of Jill and I at Myrtle Beach. We had a great time!
One thing that has always bothered me is that I am getting older, and I have no claim. I have nothing to my name, except a blue 2002 Pontiac Trans Am that I love dearly. There's no house, no lawn, no family, no dog and no career. In terms of career moves, my six years in the Armed Forces was a bad choice. When I get out I will start anew, building from the ground up, lagging far far behind my peers from college, who've already settled into their careers and are protecting their nest egg. Living the dream. I want that dream so bad it hurts to think about it, as sometimes I feel like I am in prison. I live in a barracks with a bunch of young kids, many of which lack the discipline to be in the army at all. Because I am not married, I get no BAH (basic allowance for housing, extra $ to live) so that I can live off post in a house or apartment. Living off post is a bad idea without BAH (I did it in 2007). All it does it eat up savings and create a lot of unnecessary stress. I try to call the barracks a dorm to make myself feel better, but it never works because I'm too old to be living in a dorm as well! I try so hard to get this out of my head, but no matter what I feel like I deserve better than this. I've worked hard, and I've been through a lot, and all I have is a dorm room. So what I do, is I wake up every morning, grit my teeth, and say to myself, "you are saving a lot of money for your dream, and for your future family. Suck it up Jeremy." And that's what I do, because I made this choice, and I brought it all upon myself. Some day, I hope that it will all pay off somehow. After all, the Army is not my career choice. It's just a chapter in life I chose to read, so that there will be no doubt that I've earned my right to be a citizen of the United States of America, and helped in our ongoing mission against tyranny, terrorism, and inequality.
I've also been put into a new job; it is considered a promotion because of the responsibility entailed. No longer do I work on the systems of our beloved Apache, but I inspect and sign off on those who still do. Known as technical inspectors (T.I.), we are the last step in the maintenance scheme, deciding whether an aircraft is flyable or grounded, and if the work performed on the aircraft is to standard, allowing the Apache to return to "fully mission capable." It is an important job because we have the final say, but now I have no soldiers to take care of, and I've been moved to a different office obviously. Sure, I still see all of the guys I shared my life with in war all the time, but I don't lead them. There is no one for me to lead except myself. We must focus on the aircraft and nothing else, which is understandable. I do like my new job, but I miss my old one too.
With that said, I still hate garrison life. After being to war and back, I do not like being in a fighting unit that isn't fighting. Basically, our job means jack shit over here in the states, except for training up the new soldiers for the next rotation. Before, we had to work ourselves to the bone to get an aircraft up because it HAD to be on the next mission. Lack of a mission dictates that people become extremely complacent and find it hard to care about their job at all. To make matters worse, we recently found out that the less than ideal aircraft we fell in on back here at Ft. Campbell will not even be accompanying us back to war! The diligent effort put into making these crates airworthy has turned them into nothing more than training pieces. That's just a hit in the groin.
The training season has officially started, and you can hear the veterans' moans when they have to leave their families here at Ft. Campbell to travel to some place like Louisiana for war time training. I'll be heading to Fort Knox and a base in Las Vegas for similar training later this year. My next focus is a Non Commissioned Officer school that I'm attending. One phase of the class is here at Ft. Campbell; no big deal. Upon completion, I'm traveling back to my old stomping grounds at Ft. Eustis, VA for another phase of the course that lasts one month.
We do so much training away from Campbell that we might as well go back to Afghanistan right now; we are going back anyways. At least over there everything we do means something. We can save lives, and take ones that need to be taken. We can make a difference instead of sitting on our thumbs. And, on top of that, we get good pay. More money means a better chance of my dream coming true later on. While I am not trying to get blown up, there are low points where I miss the action and the excitement of certain events. I want to get it over with, because this next rotation is my last HOORAH, and then I part ways with the Army forever. Something so sweet, just out of reach. I'll never forget my roots though, and why I joined in the first place. There is an ongoing mission; one that I can only participate in for so long. After that, someone will fill my boots and carry on. Hopefully, that person is a patriot. Until then, we give all that we have. We sacrifice and commit. Like I said before, I'm not anxious to die....only anxious to matter. Thank you for letting me vent; I rise anew.
Cheers,
-J
Here is a photo of Jill and I at Myrtle Beach. We had a great time!
Monday, May 4, 2009
One Mountain After Another
I promised that I would keep writing while being garrisoned at Ft. Campbell, so I am holding true to that. While I have nothing in particular that I would like to say, I think that it's nice to keep everyone updated on what's going on with the 101st Airborne Division and Sergeant Gratsch.
We've been back on American soil for a little over 4 months now, and I must say that it has been rather nice. I am not a fan of garrison life simply because there is not much action; we just go to work and do random training events, and eventually we find out when we are leaving again. We found out in March that we'd be heading back for another trial with destiny in March or April 2010. This will be my last big hoorah, because by the time we get back my time in the Army will be over. During the next few months, and probably the rest of the year, the training will be heavy, and the reward will be small. Such is the life we volunteered to live.
I'm pretty sure that I've fully transitioned back to the pseudo regular life that I had before I left for war. I had trouble sleeping upon my return, and I had a few weird dreams, but other than that everything seems to be fine. What's not fine is the constant struggle I have with myself in trying to live the semblance of a regular civilian life I have developed such a strong appetite for. I have a wonderful girl in my life named Jill, and I want nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with her. I've never felt so strongly about anyone or anything in my life as I do for her. She saved me from my darkest hour in the worst possible situation, in the worst possible place in this world, and I can never repay her. All I can do is devote as much of myself as I can to her. Each weekend I see her is like living little slices of the life that I want so badly. I just keep walking, keep climbing over mountains, hoping to find the one that doesn't have another one after it. Flatland; back to normality. No more wars. Sometime I will put my boots in the closet and that will be that.
We've been working diligently to turn the helicopters we were given back into war ready fighting machines. Slowly but surely we are turning water to wine, and it will be another twenty-four off to war.
There's really nothing else to write about. The heavy training starts soon, along with the concern of who, what, when where, why and how. I feel like an old vet now for some reason...I'm not the new guy anymore. I'm in the knowing, and there are many new soldiers who need training and who need to learn the Army way. I'm the old, tough son of a you-know-what at 27 years old. Someone has to take the torch when I'm ready to pass it, so we need to make sure that it's left in good hands. The war does not end with me. And someday I'll be sitting on some dusty porch somewhere reminiscing about wearing stripes in America's Army.
Cheers,
-J
We've been back on American soil for a little over 4 months now, and I must say that it has been rather nice. I am not a fan of garrison life simply because there is not much action; we just go to work and do random training events, and eventually we find out when we are leaving again. We found out in March that we'd be heading back for another trial with destiny in March or April 2010. This will be my last big hoorah, because by the time we get back my time in the Army will be over. During the next few months, and probably the rest of the year, the training will be heavy, and the reward will be small. Such is the life we volunteered to live.
I'm pretty sure that I've fully transitioned back to the pseudo regular life that I had before I left for war. I had trouble sleeping upon my return, and I had a few weird dreams, but other than that everything seems to be fine. What's not fine is the constant struggle I have with myself in trying to live the semblance of a regular civilian life I have developed such a strong appetite for. I have a wonderful girl in my life named Jill, and I want nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with her. I've never felt so strongly about anyone or anything in my life as I do for her. She saved me from my darkest hour in the worst possible situation, in the worst possible place in this world, and I can never repay her. All I can do is devote as much of myself as I can to her. Each weekend I see her is like living little slices of the life that I want so badly. I just keep walking, keep climbing over mountains, hoping to find the one that doesn't have another one after it. Flatland; back to normality. No more wars. Sometime I will put my boots in the closet and that will be that.
We've been working diligently to turn the helicopters we were given back into war ready fighting machines. Slowly but surely we are turning water to wine, and it will be another twenty-four off to war.
There's really nothing else to write about. The heavy training starts soon, along with the concern of who, what, when where, why and how. I feel like an old vet now for some reason...I'm not the new guy anymore. I'm in the knowing, and there are many new soldiers who need training and who need to learn the Army way. I'm the old, tough son of a you-know-what at 27 years old. Someone has to take the torch when I'm ready to pass it, so we need to make sure that it's left in good hands. The war does not end with me. And someday I'll be sitting on some dusty porch somewhere reminiscing about wearing stripes in America's Army.
Cheers,
-J
Friday, February 13, 2009
Reality Check
OK, I've been back in the states for nearly 2 months now, and I can't express in words how great it is. I always say, if I've learned anything in my Army time, it's to not take ANYTHING for granted, because it's no good when you don't have the things that are the most cherished by people.
I called this reality check because maybe I need one, or because maybe someone out there needs one. Yes, Obama is the President of the United States of America...Our Commander in Chief. And yes, there is a surge of soldiers going to Afghanistan...So in case some of us don't understand why, I am going to show you:
It's not easy to forget what's going on if you've been there. For some reason I see it in my sleep. It does not bother me, but it does make my feel like my duty is over there. I don't want to go back, but I think I might have to, and sooner than I thought. I just know that when we do, the transition will be easy. I know how to slip flawlessly back into soldier mode...and sometimes that scares me. I'm not a robot.
The following is a video from 60 Minutes that was presented by Lara Logan, one of their correspondents. One of my buddies was lucky enough to meet this journalist at Bagram Air Base when she was on her way to our FOB at Salerno. Don't let the pretty face and accent get you...because she went right into the shit with our guys...and she was pregnant too. Not the smartest of choices I think, but you can't deny that this woman is dedicated. Anyways, she came out to Salerno and then one of our Blackhawks took her out to tiny FOB Wilderness, right in the middle of the shit. Everything in this report happened while we were there. These are our guys, and this is how it is. It shows a rocket attack, which we have been more than privvy to, and some other things. This is daily life over there for a soldier. It helps me to realize completely where we've been and where we're going. I hope it helps people understand what it's like a world away, and what has become some soldiers' own personal hell. Petty things just don't seem so important after something like this; so keep your eyes on what' really important and don't take anything for granted. I'll be back sooner than later.
Cheers,
-J
If the video doesn't show up on your screen, you can watch it directly from youtube by following this URL:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZDonqtAf-8
I called this reality check because maybe I need one, or because maybe someone out there needs one. Yes, Obama is the President of the United States of America...Our Commander in Chief. And yes, there is a surge of soldiers going to Afghanistan...So in case some of us don't understand why, I am going to show you:
It's not easy to forget what's going on if you've been there. For some reason I see it in my sleep. It does not bother me, but it does make my feel like my duty is over there. I don't want to go back, but I think I might have to, and sooner than I thought. I just know that when we do, the transition will be easy. I know how to slip flawlessly back into soldier mode...and sometimes that scares me. I'm not a robot.
The following is a video from 60 Minutes that was presented by Lara Logan, one of their correspondents. One of my buddies was lucky enough to meet this journalist at Bagram Air Base when she was on her way to our FOB at Salerno. Don't let the pretty face and accent get you...because she went right into the shit with our guys...and she was pregnant too. Not the smartest of choices I think, but you can't deny that this woman is dedicated. Anyways, she came out to Salerno and then one of our Blackhawks took her out to tiny FOB Wilderness, right in the middle of the shit. Everything in this report happened while we were there. These are our guys, and this is how it is. It shows a rocket attack, which we have been more than privvy to, and some other things. This is daily life over there for a soldier. It helps me to realize completely where we've been and where we're going. I hope it helps people understand what it's like a world away, and what has become some soldiers' own personal hell. Petty things just don't seem so important after something like this; so keep your eyes on what' really important and don't take anything for granted. I'll be back sooner than later.
Cheers,
-J
If the video doesn't show up on your screen, you can watch it directly from youtube by following this URL:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZDonqtAf-8
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Homecoming
Last time you heard from me, I was still in Afghanistan awaiting the long journey that would eventually bring me home. Let me be the first to say that it absolutely was a long and arduous trip, with a lot of bumps along the way.
We moved out of our cushy estates in early December and into a giant old circus tent 2 weeks before we were to depart. I don't think the tent was maintained in any fashion, because we had to clean out a year's worth of settled debris before we could occupy the space. I think these tents only are used when a unit is in a transient status, which is usually only once or twice a year. The ceiling of the tent looked like it had been patched thousands of times. My guess is shrapnel and wear and tear, as this tent sits very close to the perimeter of the FOB. One good thing about the army is that we learn to occupy any kind of space and make it home, so we were fine. As long as I have some sort of covering over my head I am good to go. Luckily, it didn't rain too much during our time there.
We left Salerno in several different groups, which was annoying because we did not even get to leave as an entire platoon. Over the year, we formed some sort of weird bond with each other and do not like to be separated, especially during movement. Regardless of our parental tendencies, we were ready to go and hop on any crate, big or small, to get out of that place. As it always is, flights are canceled, schedules are changed, and everything is different from the original plan. Eventually myself and a few of our guys made it on a C-130 headed to Bagram Air Base, which is still in Afghanistan. I remember sitting there, cramped up with a group of soldiers, just like when we came out there, only the feeling was different. It was good to finally get the trip started; I remember as the plane lifted off the ground a buddy and I did the signature "high-five" that we do when something goes right. I just stared out the window, watching everything on the ground get smaller and smaller. Will I ever see this place again, or is my time in Afghanistan in the history books for good? Our job is certainly not done here, and only time will tell.
Bagram is hardly worth mentioning, because everyone who has been there in transient hates the place. It was more of the same "we are doing this" and "no, wait, we are doing that" and a million other changes. Staying in more tents and scrounging around for entertainment or anything to curve extreme boredom. The thing we dreaded most was going through customs. For some damned reason we have to dump all of our bags our, the ones we spent hours packing, have our things inspected, and then repack them. It was an absolute terror, but it went smoother than I thought it would. I was happy when I put my bags on the palates, where they would stay until I saw them in the states. Little did I know that they would make them back to me long after I made it back to the states, and they even made a side trip to Fort Bragg, home of the 82nd Airborne Division.
After customs we sat around in a room that we could not leave, and around 1am boarded another C-130 for a flight to the not so well known country of Kyrgyzstan, which is part of the former Soviet Union. When we arrived to the small Air Force base there we were informed that there is a Russian airbase some 40 miles away, so we should just stay put and keep quiet. We are always treading lightly when it comes to Russia. Luckily, we got to stay in a more hardened building, even though it still kind of looked like a tent! One of the most memorable experiences from that place was the harsh Soviet winter. I imagine that it's similar to the winter that helped Russia keep the Nazis out of their territories in WWII. It's bitter and harsh, and I spent my 27th birthday there. I celebrated by sleeping most of the day. We were all ecstatic when we were climbing up the steps of a civilian jetliner that would take us directly back to Ft. Campbell and our families.
After nearly a 10 hour flight, we made a stop in Ireland to refuel and recater the airplane. I'm not a fan in the slightest of airline food, so my stomach was empty and hurting. I downed a few crackers and juice in the airport and we carried on with our trip. Another 8 hours before a welcomed touchdown at our home base.
When the plane landed we all stretched and contorted ourselves to see what was out the window. It had been more than a year since I had left this place, and was ready to get off that damn plane. Wouldn't you know that it was raining and cold but there were still family members standing outside to welcome their soldiers back to the United States. After struggling to put all of our gear on and gather our weapons, we lined up to exit the airplane. Coming down the stairs was bittersweet; there was cheering, and camera flashes. I felt like a movie star. After being diverted to yet another tent we grounded our gear, and stood outside of the hangar where our impatient familes waited inside. The last thing I wanted to do was stand outside in the cold rain, but the cheering coming from inside made that all trivial. We are at home in the rain, and in the mud, but let us go inside anyways! The doors slowly opened and we marched inside to an uproar and more flashes. What a welcome! Immediately everyone looked for their families, and when I spotted mine my heart went into my throat. I actually felt like crying. After a year of booms and stress and every emotion there is I was home, and I was safe. Being relieved is an understatement.
The only thing left to do after getting settled was reintigration. This is a 7 day process that consists of everything from making sure our administative tasks are in order to having a physical and psycholigical evaluation. Luckily I checked out OK! All I need is a visit to the dentist for a cleaning, although they do want to yank 2 of my wisdom teeth. I'll delay that until after leave, which for me starts tomorrow!
So here I am, to Afghanistan and back, through it all, in one piece. I'm lucky to have such a supportive family, and a new love in my life that I can't even begin to appreciate fully. For once, everything seems to be falling into place. What will become of SGT Gratsch? What is there to write about if there are no explosions, no hint of war? Garrison life is very different from war. The funny thing is, as soon as units come back from war, they start right back up at training to go to war. So I guess that's what we'll do. And I won't stop writing. There will always be something going on. But for now, I sign off a happy man, because I've made the journey, and I've returned. And now I can be with family and friends once again. It's bittersweet. It's the way it's supposed to be. And I would not have it any other way.
While we are back, there are those of us who are still out there in the suck. Our buddies, our family members, still out there staring into the sky at night, wondering when they too will get to come back. We pray for them, and we think of them often. God speed to those of you still across the pond. I await your safe return. Keep your head on a swivel, and keep fighting the good fight.
Cheers,
-J
We moved out of our cushy estates in early December and into a giant old circus tent 2 weeks before we were to depart. I don't think the tent was maintained in any fashion, because we had to clean out a year's worth of settled debris before we could occupy the space. I think these tents only are used when a unit is in a transient status, which is usually only once or twice a year. The ceiling of the tent looked like it had been patched thousands of times. My guess is shrapnel and wear and tear, as this tent sits very close to the perimeter of the FOB. One good thing about the army is that we learn to occupy any kind of space and make it home, so we were fine. As long as I have some sort of covering over my head I am good to go. Luckily, it didn't rain too much during our time there.
We left Salerno in several different groups, which was annoying because we did not even get to leave as an entire platoon. Over the year, we formed some sort of weird bond with each other and do not like to be separated, especially during movement. Regardless of our parental tendencies, we were ready to go and hop on any crate, big or small, to get out of that place. As it always is, flights are canceled, schedules are changed, and everything is different from the original plan. Eventually myself and a few of our guys made it on a C-130 headed to Bagram Air Base, which is still in Afghanistan. I remember sitting there, cramped up with a group of soldiers, just like when we came out there, only the feeling was different. It was good to finally get the trip started; I remember as the plane lifted off the ground a buddy and I did the signature "high-five" that we do when something goes right. I just stared out the window, watching everything on the ground get smaller and smaller. Will I ever see this place again, or is my time in Afghanistan in the history books for good? Our job is certainly not done here, and only time will tell.
Bagram is hardly worth mentioning, because everyone who has been there in transient hates the place. It was more of the same "we are doing this" and "no, wait, we are doing that" and a million other changes. Staying in more tents and scrounging around for entertainment or anything to curve extreme boredom. The thing we dreaded most was going through customs. For some damned reason we have to dump all of our bags our, the ones we spent hours packing, have our things inspected, and then repack them. It was an absolute terror, but it went smoother than I thought it would. I was happy when I put my bags on the palates, where they would stay until I saw them in the states. Little did I know that they would make them back to me long after I made it back to the states, and they even made a side trip to Fort Bragg, home of the 82nd Airborne Division.
After customs we sat around in a room that we could not leave, and around 1am boarded another C-130 for a flight to the not so well known country of Kyrgyzstan, which is part of the former Soviet Union. When we arrived to the small Air Force base there we were informed that there is a Russian airbase some 40 miles away, so we should just stay put and keep quiet. We are always treading lightly when it comes to Russia. Luckily, we got to stay in a more hardened building, even though it still kind of looked like a tent! One of the most memorable experiences from that place was the harsh Soviet winter. I imagine that it's similar to the winter that helped Russia keep the Nazis out of their territories in WWII. It's bitter and harsh, and I spent my 27th birthday there. I celebrated by sleeping most of the day. We were all ecstatic when we were climbing up the steps of a civilian jetliner that would take us directly back to Ft. Campbell and our families.
After nearly a 10 hour flight, we made a stop in Ireland to refuel and recater the airplane. I'm not a fan in the slightest of airline food, so my stomach was empty and hurting. I downed a few crackers and juice in the airport and we carried on with our trip. Another 8 hours before a welcomed touchdown at our home base.
When the plane landed we all stretched and contorted ourselves to see what was out the window. It had been more than a year since I had left this place, and was ready to get off that damn plane. Wouldn't you know that it was raining and cold but there were still family members standing outside to welcome their soldiers back to the United States. After struggling to put all of our gear on and gather our weapons, we lined up to exit the airplane. Coming down the stairs was bittersweet; there was cheering, and camera flashes. I felt like a movie star. After being diverted to yet another tent we grounded our gear, and stood outside of the hangar where our impatient familes waited inside. The last thing I wanted to do was stand outside in the cold rain, but the cheering coming from inside made that all trivial. We are at home in the rain, and in the mud, but let us go inside anyways! The doors slowly opened and we marched inside to an uproar and more flashes. What a welcome! Immediately everyone looked for their families, and when I spotted mine my heart went into my throat. I actually felt like crying. After a year of booms and stress and every emotion there is I was home, and I was safe. Being relieved is an understatement.
The only thing left to do after getting settled was reintigration. This is a 7 day process that consists of everything from making sure our administative tasks are in order to having a physical and psycholigical evaluation. Luckily I checked out OK! All I need is a visit to the dentist for a cleaning, although they do want to yank 2 of my wisdom teeth. I'll delay that until after leave, which for me starts tomorrow!
So here I am, to Afghanistan and back, through it all, in one piece. I'm lucky to have such a supportive family, and a new love in my life that I can't even begin to appreciate fully. For once, everything seems to be falling into place. What will become of SGT Gratsch? What is there to write about if there are no explosions, no hint of war? Garrison life is very different from war. The funny thing is, as soon as units come back from war, they start right back up at training to go to war. So I guess that's what we'll do. And I won't stop writing. There will always be something going on. But for now, I sign off a happy man, because I've made the journey, and I've returned. And now I can be with family and friends once again. It's bittersweet. It's the way it's supposed to be. And I would not have it any other way.
While we are back, there are those of us who are still out there in the suck. Our buddies, our family members, still out there staring into the sky at night, wondering when they too will get to come back. We pray for them, and we think of them often. God speed to those of you still across the pond. I await your safe return. Keep your head on a swivel, and keep fighting the good fight.
Cheers,
-J
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