Stryker Brigade News

1/3/05: We didn't get much sleep. Scott was on the couch watching several movies and dozing through them. I had another food counterattack and Julie was sleeping lighter than usual. We got out pretty much on time for the trip to the airport. I chose to fly out of Carlsbad (CLD) because it's closer, the parking is free and it's generally easier to get through there than the bigger airports. Unfortunately, it's been raining very heavily and Monday morning while loading and unloading the car was particularly fun. I slipped and fell on the nice blue paint they put on in one inch thick sheets on handicapped areas (maybe the idea is to create them, not set aside parking?). Another passenger saw the fall and asked if I was okay. "No, but thanks for asking." The knee is sore and I ripped the palm open a bit. Nothing compared to what I've seen recently so I got an adhesive bandage (since Band-Aid is a registered trademark) for it at the United counter.

I may as well plug United because this airline has never, ever screwed me. Many moons ago... My father-in-law, then a Navy Chief (and a damned good one, too) arranged for me to ride from North Island Naval Air Station up to the Ft. Lewis area in a P-3 Orion. You don't usually see Infantrymen in the P-3 Orion since it is a maritime reconnaisance and anti-submarine warfare platform. The plane crapped out at Moffitt Field so I hauled my duffle bag out to the front gate, took a cab to Mountain View, California where I got a Greyhound Bus to Redwood City where I got a cab to San Francisco International Airport where I got on a United flight to Seattle. Food intake=zero. The flight attendant gave me three salads. I was travelling in my Class A uniform, by the way, at a time when such a sight was not a guarantee of free food. United flights have to be significantly more expensive before I go with anybody else.

So, even today they take good care of me. Fortunately, the rain stopped about the time we were to go through security screening. The TSA agents at CLD were on the ball and smart enough to read letters when handed to them. Scott set off the machine, so he had to be patted down, but agent and Scott both knew it was just for show. The plane ride was on a prop-job, which I enjoy tremendously. Really. You're really flying if there's propellers on the plane, beating the air into submission. Take these people to LAX!

We had some layover at LAX, which allowed us to get some food (alas, United had no free salads for me today) and for Scott to run into one of the men from his troop. He was trying to go standby and made it on the plane. Scott saw him go by and tried to talk the flight attendant (it was stewardess back in the earlier story) into putting them together in two empty seats in First Class, just ahead of our row. She was all for it, but the passengers for those seats showed poor judgment and arrived. I complimented Scott for taking care of the troops, trying to hook him up for a First Class ride when he was lucky to get on standby.

The flight was a little bumpy until we cleared the basin and we watched the first Back to the Future movie on the way. The mountains of Oregon and Washington were spectacular as there were no clouds to be seen. Mt. Rainier is an awesome sight on approach. I was also able to see Ft. Lewis on the way in. I've always liked that view.

We arrived and ran into Scott's trooper at the baggage claim. He had a ride (we asked) so Scott talked to him a bit about the incident and how he's doing. He was told everyone was looking forward to seeing him again.

We went to the rental car counter only to find a sign telling us to go out to the first level of the parking garage. We went out there and found only an empty booth. I was tempted to re-boot the computer, but resisted the temptation. It was 30 degrees in the cooler, er, parking structure and we weren't happy. I went to a competitor's booth while Julie tried calling their reservations line. I was directed to where I should have gone in the first place, a rental car kiosk/cavern where I got in line to pick up the car. After waiting until the cars for the first two customers were assembled, I was able to get up to the, well, I guess it's a workstation even if no one's working there, and get the contract. "Go to R-14." I commented to another customer that the agency must be waiting 13 days to rent cars to those who wait outside the desk (Hint One). I hooked back up with a chilly Julie and Scott and we went to R-14 only to find a different car there that what was described on the contract. I went to find the ONE person returning cars and Julie politely demanded a better car. Unfortunately, they had the last laugh because the car was a downgrade in our opinion.

The traffic wasn't bad on the way to Ft. Lewis, but we were running late thanks to the Fall (down on the job) of the Alamo (Car Rental Co.) and risking the Wrath of Tiffany because she had dinner under way. (She wouldn't have been wrathful, I'm just trying to be funny.) We arrived at the Ft. Lewis gate, scene of the two hour wait last July 31, which caused us to miss Aly's birth. Same knuckleheads still have the security contract. AKAL Security gets complaints from all over (do your own Internet search and see) and I have to wonder about the wisdom of having private security guards on a base with such nifty weapons around. I've seen West German security when they were chasing the Bader-Meinhof guys--machine guns in the woods near the checkpoints, etc. I was asked some very stupid questions, one of which was what car I rented the last time I applied for a pass. I was very sorely tempted to tell the fool that I rented the exact same car, but I never torment those less fortunate than I am.

Oh, and the pre-screener should have seen that Scott was a wounded soldier and put in through to the first available window instead of making him take a number and wait 17 minutes. Thanks, guys.

We did link up with Tiffany and followed her and Scott (did some cross-decking at the Shopette) to the new digs (which are very nice). Dinner was good as was the conversation. Tiffany's Mom was present and it was good to see her again. I updated Tiffany on Scott's condition and we watched a movie before leaving for our hotel.

The hotel, which will be named tomorrow if they don't fix the Internet access (I am writing this from room 216 even though Julie and I are checked into room 215), was a little hard to find, but fairly comfortable.

1/4/05: I had a call from Scott's commander about having a promotion/awards ceremony this week and after some high-level calendar checking, 1600 hours on 1/5/05 was the time.We met the kids at the International House of Pancakes for a late breakfast and some light shopping (hobby store for the guys, fabric/hobby store for the gals). We went back to Ft. Thorne and spent a quiet afternoon. Scott fell asleep on the couch and we went to work on getting things ready for tomorrow. This took a little doing because Scott was in the desert uniform when he left, so all his green stuff (Battle Dress Uniform, woodland camouflage, one each) still had the Specialist rank on it. Julie put the 2nd Infantry Division patch on the right sleeve (signifies serving in combat with the division) and the U.S. Flag under that. Julie thought the flag was backwards until I reminded her that the flag always goes forward (the blue part with the stars, for those who haven't yet taken the citizenship exam) so some were made that way to represent this.

Scott expressed some serious reservations about going in uniform. He thinks he should not go until his head is repaired as he thinks people will think he looks stupid. All three of us countered this pretty vigorously. "Scott, they want to honor you. You honor the uniform by wearing it under these conditions." I think it's going to be one of the most meaningful events in his life and possibly in the lives of those attending. He doesn't like the fact that the helmet doesn't look military (I tried putting a kevlar helmet cover on--it fits, but Scott didn't like the idea). "Hey, you've got a profile that says you need to wear it," said Tiff. "If you broke your foot and were in a cast, that's how you'd be in uniform." I think we won him over, but it will be the reaction of his guys that will make it for him. I told him I'd smack anybody who laughed (knowing full well that no one will) at him and pointed out that he's been in several very busy airports and no one has given him any trouble at all.

It's a good thing he's so hard-headed, but sometimes it's a pain for the rest of us.

After dinner we went back to the hotel and I'm back in room 216... It's the little things, as Alice Cooper might say.

ST