Saturday, February 03, 2007
Final Thoughts
I went into this trip with expectations. Some were met. Others were not.
When we first pulled up to the gate of a FOB on our first night, a shadow rose up on top of a sand dune, with a gun in our direction. I remember thinking “Whoa...I guess it’s on!” By the end of the trip though, I had seen so many guns they almost looked like movie props. This is because during our entire trip, I did not see a single gun fire. I often heard them in the distance, but never witnessed one fire.
This was kind of a bummer. I envisioned fire fights. In my head I saw tanks firing massive blasts across the desert. I was hoping to see an explosion or two.
As it turns out though, those things aren’t positives at the National Training Center. I explained my disappointment to a soldier and he explained it like this:
“If a situation is handled without a gun firing, then we’re doing our job right.”
And looking back at the sticky situations I observed during their training, I can say that they did a heck of a job. Protests, suicide bombers, gate attacks and sketchy encounters with mystery vehicles were handled with a great deal of care and skill.
The living conditions were better than I had expected. I thought I would physically be in a great deal of discomfort. Granted, I wasn’t on gate watch all night with three hours of sleep, or carrying pounds and pounds of gear on my person, but I expected to be tired all the time...and as explained in previous blog posts...smelly.
The true discomfort came in the form of just missing home. I was only out there for a week and I was home sick. I missed my friends and family. Even simple things like my couch or driving my car around Columbus...or just sitting under a tree! I’ve always thought soldiers had it rough and I’m not saying I had it just as bad while I was out there, but just a taste of what they go through was enough to know they have something in them I wish I could say I had.
The best part was chow time. Meals always led to joking around, quoting movies or just listening to their stories, many of which were hysterical.
I enjoyed being more involved in our coverage and not just “the eye behind the camera.” Being able to express some of what I felt here online was great. I hope my posts were a good read for those of you that were keeping up with the HammerSlogger.
So, I learned a lot. A lot of military jargon. A lot of military culture. And most importantly, a greater respect for what these men and women do with their lives.
