Here Comes Drill

This is drill weekend again. Battle Drill officialy. Except the battle is usualy having to tolerate something. Someone somewhere thought if we called it "Battle Drill" we would be more combat ready. Nothng has fundamentaly changed though. Being the first weekend of the fiscal year(1Oct-30Sep) it is usualy "Administrative Drill". Administration happens.

I don't mean to complain, and if it sounds as if I don't look forward to it, I can't say that I do. Honestly, I don't.

The boy I rode to drill with retired. At least he is Saturday. The Jolly Red Head Jiant called it qiut's. Now, I'm doing the 3 1/2 hour drive alone. Gas was high, now it's higher. Of course it will be cheaper in South Carolina(NC has about a $.27 tax). I figure it will be about $80 in gas. Then Administrative Drill tends to be an unexciting, disorganized test of patience. Maybe if was on another weekend. Maybe I should explain more later. But, when I intend to write about something I never do.

This is something that I decided to do with my life a long time ago. This weekend I should get reenlisted. It will be an Indefinate Reenlistmnet. The Army can hold on to me until I'm 60 years old, or I reach 29 years of service.

My Answer
My answer to Sage(below) is not a Hill Billy Rave(or rant). Just an explanation of my veiw of it. Thanks for the koo doo's.

Appalachain Intellectual

MOUT

Training Area 9...AKA The MOUT Site. MOUT is Military Operations in Urbanized Terrain. Marines call it "Combat Town" and I've picked up the influence. This is one of the Sites we used on Ft. McClellan. It's made up like a small town as you can see. We mainlyy worked on basic room clearing. Everyone loved it. It's the training soldiers love to do.
I saw a bumper sticker on a truck today that said, "The last time someone listened to a Bush people wondered in the desert for 40 years". That is low class.

Appalachian Intellectual

"Sharing The Adventure"

The Adventure
One thing my Ex ever did was to hammer into the kids heads to share. Last night, my step son shared something with me...Adventure.
Here I was, tired, sleepy and just about to go to bed when...Knock. Some one was at the door. He and his GF were riding around up on some logging roads near the house here. They were stuck. Not only were they stuck, they were Stuck Bigger Than Shit. A Four Wheeler has gotten stuck on this road. It was pitch black like the Panamanian night. Those two souls had to feel their way out of there...Laurels grown up all thick. He wanted to get his Grand Father's( he call's him Pa Pow) help, but, I said to let me look at it first. Well, I go look. I was going to need better light and my lantern's mantle is broke. The boy thought it would be easy, but, would require a chain saw. Well, it wasn't easy. And we didn't use a chain saw. We go and get his Pa Pow, who I could tell by the look on his face felt like ringing his neck. We tried his big F150 he uses for hauling wood and a tow chain. Nope, she ain't budging. I was in the kids truck trying to back it out as it was being pulled. Love birds are watching nervously. As I was looking back I saw something black go right between the bank and the truck. What the heck? It was the spare tire off of the F150. We're trying to pull the truck up hill. That tire rolled 200 yards down the hill. OK, like I said, it didn't budge.

We got it out of there today. It took four chains, one steel cable, a 1 ton come along, a 1 1/2 ton come along and 3 1/2 hours of labor to pull that truck about 160 feet up the hill. That old road goes along the side of an old clear cut(probably cut off back in the 70's) where we had to pick our trees to hook up to.

It Ain't Bad
That boy has 350 heads on a 305 engine. But, I've gotten myself stuck before. And, so has his Pa Pow. We shared a story or two. One time, I followed a logging road off in the night. I turned around, the road was no big deal. But, just inside the curve I turned in was a foot deep hole that was just big enough to swallow my front tires. We had just gotten about 9 inches of rain that week and the leaves were slick. I had no idea who's property I was on and it was a way's to a phone. I had to put my tow rope, sticks and my coat under the tires as I rocked it back and forth for a half hour in Four Low. I burned up 1/8th a tank of gas. I was ever so relieved to get out of there. Some time later I found out I was on the biggest Ass Hole on that side of the county's property. A few years later, we both did something good for each other. So, it ain't bad.

Talkin' bout my generation
It's an Appalachian thing. It goes for the rural South in general. If the property is just woods, not posted and your not hurting anything, no one minds if you go on it. Something the outsiders that have come in don't understand . It's like the boy's Pa Pow said. When he was a youngin' hogs still ran loose(1940's). Everyone's was marked. Of course some where ferral and they would shoot them. If you shot someone's on accident, you gave them half of it and nothing was said. Just don't abuse anything. It's a way that is dieing. And yes, sometimes any more someone will abuse something. I believe the son's of the pioneers thing has died with my generation.


Between going to see Son Volt Friday night and the great stuck truck adventure I'm rather tired. I have to be at work two hours early as well. Special thanks to Ed for the post title. (and you thought it involved a girl...)

Free yourself and let you inner hog run free!
Appalachian Intellectual

Barracks

These barracks are made for transitioning troops. Little comfort, no Air Cindition, just an exhuast fan and a couple of fans. Appalachian Air Condition in other words. The object on the far window of the door is a trash bag we taped over it to keep an outside light from shineing in on our eyes. It hit me directly.

There was little privacy, but, we dealt with that. Guy's just tried to be respectful. You would have two or three TV's playing different things. People would walk in at different times after lights out and even being quiet, you were aware of someone was going by. With the heat and the genral living conditions hardly any of us got any sleep for the first week and a half. The building cleared out towards the end and we started sleeping better. Some rented some rooms($10/ night).

We had no wall lockers. Our stuff was on the shelf or the sorry excuses for foot lockers. We trusted each other. We are NCO's.

Son Volt
Last Night I went to see Son Volt. The show was being filmed for an upcoming DVD. To make a long story short, Freind Of Jelloiuse went with me. I need to code name her to something that is more fitting. She is kinda unique. She had never heard them before.She seems to like a variety of music any way. The film guys were pushing people out of their way for shots(no one seeemed to mid) it was real entertaining. Got home late, slept late.
I didn't like the way they did "Medication". I like the CD version much more. Jay Farrar never lectured on ploitics. That was cool.
Appalachian Intellectual

Sick Tired Pissed and Wired

Coffee. I don't drink much of it, yet, this morning it tastes good. Cream and sugar, a peice of ice so I don't burn my precious lips.

My coffee mug came from a Casino that was in Biloxi. A boy I work with would go Golfing down there. Not any more.

Tuesday my not as smart as he should be Step Son came over. He's a real intelligent kid, but, he does dumb things. He told me he's getting ready to do a dumb thing. Now, it's my moral responsibility to talk him out of it. He wants to get married. He's 16. I was called back into work. Got off after midnight and back before 0800.
As I pulled off of my drive way yesterday morning Bosco got into a fight with a dog that had gone to see their kid off to the School Bus. It wasn't too rough and it broke up quickly, with the help of another dog. But, I was a bit ticked off at her for her aggressiveness. I was later than usual, I try to beat traffic. Well, darn near every dog in the community was on the road. They all congregate in front of this one house. It's the dog hang out. I had to stop while they all, almost acting embbarrassed, moved out of the way.

I din't sleep good last night. I think the caffine I drank through the day caught up with me.

To be continued...maybe
Appalachian Intellectual

Good Morning

I've been meaning to post since I got back, but, the weekend had me preoccupied, I forgot my password for the computer at work(it had been a month and was a new one). Then for some reason my Windows Explorer glitch doesn't like Blogger Dash Board. Lastly, I was invited to supper at some friends house last night..

I came home to a wonderful weekend. The sky was so clear and pretty. You could see clearly for miles. A real Golden Age weekend.

I've come back to a busy week at my Civilian Job. That's good. Our work load is like a roller coaster. We'll be wide open for a few weeks and then slow back down for a couple. After being gone away on what my Family calls "Reserve Duty" for 26 day's it's nice to have the day's go quick.

Hey, all you fellow Rockers, check this out. You'll need sound.

Darn near time to get to work.
Appalachian Intellectual...nothing conceded about it

Seven Day's and a Wake Up

You'l, it's nice to be missed. I appreciate you'l.

This time next week, I'll be either home or getting close to home. I do look forward to seeing the Mountians again. I know the nights are cooling off and I miss that. Of course they are cooling off here, but, not nearly as much as home. Enough of that.

The drive down here was an adventure. I drove down through Clayton Ga in Rabun County and encountered a feirce rain where William Bartram did so many years ago. People were pulling over and the water on the road pulled at my tires. Again at Gainsville Ga I ran into a storm that slowed everone down. On I-20 along Tallapoosa Ga was another gully washer. Everyone was driving with their flashers on and I found my self shifting down to third gear. Once I was in Shelby County Alabama, where I have family, there were more of the storms. Driving into the South end of Birmingham was an almost repeat of Tallapoosa.

I told myself that if the drive down here was any indication of how the mission would go it would be something(as in and adventure). It has been. there have been hurdles, but, we've come through. There is still Seven Day's and a Wake Up to go. More long day's on the range to come.

At the request of a Public Affairs Officer from CENTCOM I'm posting this link. CHeck it out, find out stuff that your Armed Forces are ding that doesn't make the news. I'll put it on my links list, sir.

I'll type more later when I get home.

Appalachian Intellectual

Hey!!

How are you'l doing? Well, I hope fine. This is just a quicky post to say hello. I'm finaly on a computer where I can do such things.

I was talking to my Dadd the other day, and he reads this, he say's my spelling is bad. So, my apologies folks. We bloggers know that spell checker on this thing is a little hard, but, I'll give it a try again.

My day's are long and there have been some rewarding ones. Katrina did us little harm and we were able to operate as planned. Ft. McClellan is probably the biggest tragedy of BRACC. It's a closed post with only a small portion being used by The National Gaurd. Yet, in a way there is a blessing. Empty Barracks that Refugees can stay in. (Ipredicted that) FEMA has a center there (the morning after Katrina trucks were rolling) and they are opening up some of the old empty buildings to be used. Are they sending me? No. It's entirely possible, but at this moment not likley.

It's not easy sending Gaurdsmen to New Orleans. You have to notify a guy, assemble the troops, pack their gear, fuel up and head out in a low geared truck. From what I can see their doing a good job so far.

The Alabama National Gaurd has been realy good to us. The Range Control people are great. On most Active Duty Posts they are not so helpful. But, Ft. McClellan/ Pelham Range is great. They will darn near bend over backwards to help you out.

I've received some e-mails and I will get to them. You don't go unheard.

Qick thought...If an Escalator escaltes, meaning to go up. Why do we not call the one going down a Deescalotor? Just a thought.

Appalachain Intellectual