Random stories from times past

So lately, I haven't had much to write about. I can possibly write some book reviews. Maybe some movie reviews. Or continuously talk about how watching 30 Rock: seasons 1-3 changed my life (it is so funny...especially Alec Baldwin's character). But my friend Kyle's blog (kplatz.blogspot.com) reminded me that I missed out on telling some stories from the start. So I'm trying to recall some of my favorite and least favorite happenings. Here are some that come to mind with their own titles.

I am an adult crybaby.
My last few days in Hawaii were interesting. It was a string of emotions from various situations whether it was the being mad at the crappy rainy weather, having fun at dinner and drinks with friends, anger at others for not realizing how much it would've meant for them to take a day off for me, frustration with myself for being too forgiving, nostalgia over all the great times I had with my family visiting the island, and the bliss of having sunshine and a beautifully fun morning with an old friend on my last full day in Hawaii. On my final hour, I was dropped off by the same person I dropped off prior to his deployment 2 1/2 years previously. A lot had changed, but one thing stayed the same...I cried. The first time, I at least was alone in a car, but this time....it was all out in the open Honolulu Airport and I couldn't stop. I cried through the agriculture security checkpoint. I cried through the regular security line. I cried while waiting for the plane. Hmmm. I think I pulled it together for a bit at this point, but then I was back to crying on the plane. I was leaving a lot of queston marks unanswered and my life was about to change by force and not by choice.

The sadists. (this story is a bit embarrasing for me, but have to tell it like it was)
In my first week with the 82nd Airborne, I was told I would be running in a formal "celebratory" Brigade 4-mile run (I swear these people are crazy) in only a few short days. First off, I do like to run, but as everyone who knows me knows I have never been very fast and have never ran 4 miles...in a row! And on top of that, I hadn't actually ran in about a month so was out of shape compared to my baseline. I surprisingly finished the run, but fell out of formation fairly close to the beginning when the group sprinted around a corner and I just couldn't keep up. I had felt great though...well, no, I felt sick to my stomach and my body felt like it couldn't move right, but I was proud I had finished it :) I thought I could do anything...until I had to do morning physical training with the platoon...and met the sadistic leader of the platoon. They had a horrible way of training..making everyone at all levels run at the same speed and distance. For some, it was just a waste of time, and for other, a difficult work out. As for me, I would, of course, fall behind and the group (mainly a bunch of 19-20 year olds) would then run in circles until I caught up. Not only was it embarrasing for me, but also punishment for them. AND it made me really dislike the platoon leader. On every drive in to the base, I would get very anxious almost to the point of naseau that it would be a run day. All I wanted to do was run at my own pace and not be judged.

But one morning stood out amongst all the misery. I had just returned the previous night from a weekend trip to Michigan and was feeling tired and a bit dehydrated. I was having a more difficult time than usual and our platoon sergeant let me set the pace for the run and made all the rest do interval sprints. I was sure she was to leave me alone...but no, I was sent on a mission to sprint. That was the end of me. I could not return to my previous pace after that and fell behind. One of the other soldiers stayed back to encourage me to keep going. I finally thought, yes, I can run at my own pace now. The rest of the group disappeared in front of us and I was happy not to see them. Soon, we saw two familiar faces running back and stopping in front of us in parade rest. One said, "Ma'am we were sent back to fire-man carry you back to the group". Oh the nerve of that platoon sergeant! How can she be that evil?!?!? But before we could stop them, I was hung over this young soldier's shoulder with my head hanging down and his shoulder jabbing into my abdomen as he ran. I felt like I was going to vomit. When I couldn't take it anymore, I demanded he put me down, then knelt over just in case I actually did vomit.

That moment sealed my fate. After my time in the Army is done...I am out of here. I love working in the medical centers and being part of this organization, but I will never again want to work with a sadistic unit like this one ever again!

The bad, but not so bad airplane ride.
As we were preparing to leave Kuwait to enter Iraq, I was hearing plenty of stories of the so called "combat landing" that previously deployed soldiers had on their flight into Baghdad. Now what this combat landing entaled was staying elevated in the air out of attack range from snipers below until last possible moment, then diving down very quickly to land. Others talked about how bumpy the ride is in general and to prepare by taking a "vomit bag". I was scared!

The day finally arrived and we lined up and filed in like sardines into the belly of a C-130 (www.af.mil/factsheets/factsheet.asp?fsID=92)...and by sardines...I mean it. When I finally was situated. I could barely move my arms, and my legs were locked in place by the legs of those across and next to me. It was painful. I had felt knee pain like I've never felt before and never want to feel again. I kept thinking "if only I could just stretch my legs out once", but it was impossible. I just closed my eyes and worked on yoga style breathing to calm me down and not think of the excruciating pain. I was pleaseantly surprised by the ride, though. It was nothing like the stories I heard. The flight was smooth as well as the landing. In fact, I didn't even know we landed until the airforce crew started opening the back gate. When the lights came on was the best part. Looking around I was able to see all the people that actually fell asleep. My friend who was in the seat facing me had two girls who were passed out like babies on either side of her and it took some good shakes to wake them up. Kudos to them for being able to sleep and not be in pain.

Kudos for kudos.
Actually this story has nothing to do with kudos, but instead about the flight from Baghdad airport to our current base. This one was actually really cool. We did have to stand outside in the dark cold for a few hours, then carry our heavy bags down the flight line to the chinook (www.chinook-helicopter.com), AND pack in like sardines on to the aircraft. I still was nervous while sitting on the helicopter and must've looked like it as our first sergeant admitted that he had to watch my reaction as we took off. But once we were up in the air, it was awesome! I was able to look out slightly from the window where the "gunners" (not sure what they are called in helicopters) were keeping watch and saw a bunch of city lights. I loved it! After being in small town, Fayetteville for a wastefull month, then in the Kuwaiti desert....it was calming to see all the city lights. Although now I'm back to looking at the same dirt day and and day out, it makes me smile to think of that flight.

Below are pictures of my good friend and I all geared up waiting for the flight, then a quick picture of the inside as we were loading in. I wish I would've took more time to take a better picture here, but I wasn't sure if I can even take a picture in the first place.