Saturday, August 9, 2008

The Blues, the FOB dog (update), and Please Send Hallucinogenic Gas Dispensers

I haven't posted in a day or two. I've been here one month and I think I'm experiencing a brief period of "adjustment disorder with depressed mood". As I told my brother-in-law, I am finding that the Army and I are very different. The honeymoon period is over, so now I have to adjust to the reality of this relationship. It's not a match made in heaven-- more a union of convenience (for the Army) or an arranged marriage, which is appropriate for this part of the world.

I said this before, but I'll expand on it. I have observed that I have a few external "strikes" against me, as I am considered to be a medic (actually, worse than a medic-- a shrink) and I am Air Force. Even the Army medics are somewhat marginalized, especially the doctors. They are possibly seen as being coddled or soft, whereas the actual "medics"-- enlisted Soldiers who go on missions and rub elbows with Soldiers in the dirt-- are more accepted and even appreciated, which makes sense.

The Air Force thing is mostly a barrier because there is constant griping that USAF deployments are shorter. They will point out that they will go through a third USAF psychologist before they even leave next year. I understand this, it sucks, and I don't think it's fair. But I consistently counter this by asking who was dumb enough to join the Army in the first place. Usually this goes over well because I think while Soldiers complain about the length of deployments, they also hold this as a point of pride-- it's one thing that sets them apart from other service members. To be honest, I didn't use that counter on the squadron commander when he said, "Six months? I could do six months standing on my head." I just smiled. Good thing he can't read minds.

It's an ebb and flow. Things have been mostly up, so it is reasonable to expect to have a few down days or weeks.

Moving on...

The FOB dog came up at the Battle Update Brief today. The squadron commander observed the location on the perimeter wall where the FOB dog infiltrates into and exfiltrates out of the FOB. The dog somehow gets in... It's remarkable. In the brief, he asked the First Sergeant to make sure that the breach is addressed. I'm not sure why it's a big deal. Maybe there are concerns that the little dog will one day wear a suicide vest, or come over at night with an AK47?

The First Sergeant grumbled an assent and said, "I was planning on shooting the dog anyway." I knew he was at least partially serious (I know the guy casually, but I have him profiled).

So after the meeting I grabbed him on the way out:

I said, "Sergeant "X", don't shoot that dog-- you better not shoot that dog."

He said, "You mean the pretty little dog? That dog craps in my horseshoe pit and when I play horseshoes I don't want to step in dog crap."

I said, "You're just a sick bastard and you want to kill something don't you."

Another NCO chimed in, confirming my suspicions, "Sergeant "X" if you need that dog killed, you let me know."

I said, "Just fix the wall so he can't get in. Don't you like dogs?"

There was a little more banter but I hope that I appealed to his humane side. I like the FOB dog. Reminds me of my dog.

If he kills it or has it killed, I will TORMENT him until I leave (a la Doctor Faustus).

Do you know about Dr. Faustus? The supervillain psychiatrist (of course) associated with Captain America?

Faustus has no superhuman powers but has a genius intellect, and is extremely charismatic and can modulate his voice in a highly persuasive manner. He has a Ph. D in psychiatry.

Faustus regularly employs hologram projectors, hallucinogenic gas dispensers, androids, and elaborate props. He also hires henchmen to impersonate various people as a part of his scheme to drive victims insane.


I gotta figure out how to get a hold of some hallucinogenic gas dispensers.