Awkward Moment
I Wake up 0445…and spend the next two hours riding in a humvee on my way to another camp. The logistics behind this awkward moment include 3 ½ hours of sleep, an M249 (Saw/Machine Gun) and one sore ass (humvee’s aren’t known for their tender rides). My posture enroute was chin on elbow, head tilted sideways and one long blank fucking stare, into right field. Five years of Army discipline allowed me to keep this position for the entire two hours.
Once we got to our intended destination, the next logical thing to do was get out of the humvee. I didn’t find this process to be as easy as it sounds so I’ll try to describe it more accurately. I begin by detaching my chin from my elbow, placing the heel of my right hand against the temple of my forehead and applying steady pressure until my head reaches the upright position. Next, I burden my right hand, again, and attempt to open the interior door latch. It slips but I try again. Once this obstacle has been cleared, I task both hands with the responsibility of lifting my right leg and placing it on the ground. The momentum of my body causes my left leg to follow suit, although this pursuit isn’t as smooth as I assumed it would be. I bang my left knee on something and I don’t understand physics. Now that I am completely, or at least physically, out of the humvee, I reach in and grab my Saw (military nickname for the M249). This is the weapon I have been assigned to since the day I got out of basic training. It’s a badass weapon that requires two barrels (change for heat) and pumps enough lead to cut down a tree. I like it. It’s also twice the weight of an M16 and much clumsier, due to its size and additional extremities. Which in turn creates more opportunity for the weapon to get snagged on shit? With that said I reach into the humvee and grab my weapon. It gets caught on something. I pull harder. It releases itself and bangs into something else. Now that we’re both outside the humvee, I attempt to sling it around my neck and shoulder. I struggle for an additional moment and find this frustrating. I hope no one is watching me. The weapon is now successfully slung around my body. I initiate my first step in a forward manner.
After the course is set, I slowly begin to raise my head with out the assistance of my hands. Once this is complete, I rub my eyes and take another step. I’m starting to build a little bit of confidence at this point so I open my eyes further. They are met with the blinding glare of a foreign sun. Fuck. I rub my eyes once more, take another step and try again. Things seem to get easier in volumes of two. My fourth step is met with the presence of another soldier about 10 yards to my NW. I see the silhouette but that is all. By my fifth step I determine that this soldier is either an officer of the Army or an enlisted seaman (Navy). If it’s a seaman, I don’t necessarily care and continue to direct my attention towards completing forward steps. I take my sixth step and the soldier slows his pace and begins to stare at me. If it’s an officer I am required to execute the military courtesy known as a salute. I just came from a non-salute area, this location however, is a salute area. It takes me another step to identify this. The soldier is still staring at me.
I have the second piece of the puzzle in place, being that I am in salute zone, but I still don’t know if this soldier is a seamen or an officer. I take my eighth step. The soldier has since stopped. I’m not familiar with the designations of Navy rank. I’m tired and I’m partially blind. My ass hurts and my weapon is conniving to get caught again. I take my ninth step. The soldier glares.
Well, I’m at loss. I have too much going on at this moment to continue my investigation. So fuck it, I make a decision. I snap to attention and throw up a salute. The soldier takes one step closer to me. He returns the salute and just as quickly, steps off in the other direction. He’s a Colonel in the United States Army. He also makes dexterity look easy. Woops. Well, I felt like a dumb ass. I guess that’s the definition of an awkward moment, where at least one person fills that role.
~Rolligun
Once we got to our intended destination, the next logical thing to do was get out of the humvee. I didn’t find this process to be as easy as it sounds so I’ll try to describe it more accurately. I begin by detaching my chin from my elbow, placing the heel of my right hand against the temple of my forehead and applying steady pressure until my head reaches the upright position. Next, I burden my right hand, again, and attempt to open the interior door latch. It slips but I try again. Once this obstacle has been cleared, I task both hands with the responsibility of lifting my right leg and placing it on the ground. The momentum of my body causes my left leg to follow suit, although this pursuit isn’t as smooth as I assumed it would be. I bang my left knee on something and I don’t understand physics. Now that I am completely, or at least physically, out of the humvee, I reach in and grab my Saw (military nickname for the M249). This is the weapon I have been assigned to since the day I got out of basic training. It’s a badass weapon that requires two barrels (change for heat) and pumps enough lead to cut down a tree. I like it. It’s also twice the weight of an M16 and much clumsier, due to its size and additional extremities. Which in turn creates more opportunity for the weapon to get snagged on shit? With that said I reach into the humvee and grab my weapon. It gets caught on something. I pull harder. It releases itself and bangs into something else. Now that we’re both outside the humvee, I attempt to sling it around my neck and shoulder. I struggle for an additional moment and find this frustrating. I hope no one is watching me. The weapon is now successfully slung around my body. I initiate my first step in a forward manner.
After the course is set, I slowly begin to raise my head with out the assistance of my hands. Once this is complete, I rub my eyes and take another step. I’m starting to build a little bit of confidence at this point so I open my eyes further. They are met with the blinding glare of a foreign sun. Fuck. I rub my eyes once more, take another step and try again. Things seem to get easier in volumes of two. My fourth step is met with the presence of another soldier about 10 yards to my NW. I see the silhouette but that is all. By my fifth step I determine that this soldier is either an officer of the Army or an enlisted seaman (Navy). If it’s a seaman, I don’t necessarily care and continue to direct my attention towards completing forward steps. I take my sixth step and the soldier slows his pace and begins to stare at me. If it’s an officer I am required to execute the military courtesy known as a salute. I just came from a non-salute area, this location however, is a salute area. It takes me another step to identify this. The soldier is still staring at me.
I have the second piece of the puzzle in place, being that I am in salute zone, but I still don’t know if this soldier is a seamen or an officer. I take my eighth step. The soldier has since stopped. I’m not familiar with the designations of Navy rank. I’m tired and I’m partially blind. My ass hurts and my weapon is conniving to get caught again. I take my ninth step. The soldier glares.
Well, I’m at loss. I have too much going on at this moment to continue my investigation. So fuck it, I make a decision. I snap to attention and throw up a salute. The soldier takes one step closer to me. He returns the salute and just as quickly, steps off in the other direction. He’s a Colonel in the United States Army. He also makes dexterity look easy. Woops. Well, I felt like a dumb ass. I guess that’s the definition of an awkward moment, where at least one person fills that role.
~Rolligun
posted by Rolligun at 4:43 PM
11 Comments:
Why do they always want us saluting anyway? It's all so silly. Colonels.
Ah, cupcake, I'm sorry you had a hard time getting your dexterity together.
heh, not that it's anything like yours, but when i was in ROTC we always used to get fucked by that very thing. i never learned navy rank, and at drill comps you would have all four branches represented. it all came to a head at one comp when an army cadet w4 was being berated by a navy cadet w4 for not saluting. neither one bothered to learn the others ranks. i mean, they were warrant officers anyhow. assholes. i don't even think you salute them in the real armed forces. i mean hell, i was air force ROTC and AF was smart enough to get rid of the warrant officer designation. sorry, tangent. but it was quite a scene to watch. two ego's exploding, and both being wrong. but seriously dude, you get to play with a saw... i envy you. i going to dream of cutting down trees with bullets tonight.
God it's all so complicated!! Gah!
drunken chud... yes, you do salute Warrant Officers in the real armed forces.
C.S. Yeah, he wasn't to happy with me or my delay, I didn't explain this very well, but he was giving me the kind of look that is more likely to inspire my middle finger than anything else. Thank god, I made the right choice.
Meghan, I'm not a cupcake, I'm a soldier dammit! Nothing about me is fluffy or sweet. I'm a hard, pissed off soldier. Especially since I'm struggling so much to find a comeback or a classificaiton for you. I'm not done yet!!!
Chud...mommy is right, you do salute Cheifs. The main difference between them and typical officers is leadership vs. technical specialists. Is there anything else, I could say, that you probably weren't concerned with?
Steph, such is life Steph, Such is life. It doesn't help that I have some inherent commitment to making shit harder than it needs to be.
Mommy, where were you when my old LT kept giving me erroneous homework assingments? "SGT Rolligun, with further training you will go far...you are not allowed to question me, I want you to look up the regulation on NCO/Officer relations and the chain of command. I want a four page paper by next friday"
I don't miss him one bit.
Buggy, I forgive you, this time, but in the future I would appreciate it if you could devote some more time to me and my blog. Thanks for your cooperation.
Ah, Rolligun, you sweet-tart you. I will refrain from calling you anything light and fluffy again.
Sorry it took me awhile to see your comment on my blog... but regarding St. Thomas, I liked it a lot there. The campus was pretty and in a nice neighborhood, and the couple of teachers I had there were good. I have to admit that I was never a full time student at UST... I took classes there through my other college, Hamline University. I considered transferring, but that ended up not being a reasonable decision for me at that point in time.
Anyway, yes, nice school. And it might be beside the point, but there are quite a few good looking people there. (It has a reputation for that, and I guess for undergraduate girls going there to look for husbands. I didn't spend enough time at UST to find out for myself if that was true.)
Don't know if any of that helps, but good luck with your grad school planning.
Hmmm.
I like to be saluted.......
You can take that anyway you want.
Meghan
Good, Good, I'm glad we understand each other, actually, that's not true...I am really just pleased that you have listend to me, therefore I have won. I'm still a hard soldier.
Jess, Welcome, I remember now. It was back in my blogging infancy and when I use to spend more time planning for education. Now I just type stupid shit all over the place. Perhaps I'm regressing. Oh well. Anyway, thanks for the insigt...St Thomas is distant option for more.
Heidi
"stand at attention"
I'm gonna make you do pushups if keep you keep talking to me like that.
Anyway, as I explained to Drunkin, you would either have to be "leader or a specialist" which one would you be?
Leader...
Definitely.
I like having men under me...
I'm just sayn'
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