As previously mentioned, in order to kill time while my unit figures out what is going on with my orders to Iraq my first sergeant decided to send me on temporary duty to another location to clean up a little mess out there.
As it turns out, the mess wasn’t quite as little as I was led to believe.
Immediately after the first of the year I packed a few essentials and headed out to my beautiful barracks room on a base spitting distance from the Czech Republic. Not that I would spit on the Czech Republic, as I rather like Prague and there is a Vietnamese flea market across the border where I can get cheap boots. But I digress. I unloaded my belongings into a barracks room, noting the interesting fact that I appeared to be the only non-commissioned officer in the building, which was full of military police. Mentally ticking off a few violated regulations in my head, I wandered over to the office to see just what I would be dealing with for the upcoming weeks.
The new Soldiers, who got to Europe over a month prior, had not finished inprocessing. The person in charge of the office was about to go on temporary duty and had failed to leave much of anything behind in the way of specific details, only vague instructions. The specialist just getting back from leave was overly bitter about a promotion points problem and preferred to look at reclassification options rather than do any sort of work. The person I had been assigned to replace was present but embittered and usually off at some sort of forced therapy.
I don’t particularly want children. Nothing against them, but they smell funny and cost a lot. My experiences further east have only reaffirmed this, as this has become more of an adventure in babysitting than anything remotely pertaining to an operational position. And they indeed smell funny some days and cost me time, energy, and more than the three dollars and fifty cents extra per day that I am getting paid for this.
Inprocess the new kids. Find out several are unable to pass a physical fitness test. Find out several are overweight. Fix what is wrong with the promotion points for the specialist. Catch some random military police guy in one of the girl’s rooms. Deal with blaring music at odd hours for no reason because I know those military police aren’t on road shifts. None of the new kids have gotten European driver’s licenses. Two of the new kids don’t have stateside licenses so they can’t get them and therefore can’t drive. Make sure the person I replaced is making his appointments. Clean up the office. Find supplies from somewhere. Figure out whether or not we own certain pieces of equipment and if not, who does. Figure out what the office letterhead might be. Make sure the new kids aren’t eating at Burger King every night. Give everyone counseling statements, some for the first time in their military career though they have been in nearly three years. Realize half of them can’t shoot. Figure out where the boss left the packet for the work needed to be done. Figure out if requests went up for information needed to function. Get the old personnel to stop demotivating the new personnel. Motivate the new personnel.
The list goes on, and that was all in the first few days. My days are busy, but still feel as though nothing gets accomplished day to day and the things to do list grows exponentially faster than the things done list.
I keep asking my first sergeant to please send me to Iraq. It’s much easier.
I hear the going rate for a babysitter is about eight dollars an hour. I get three fifty a day. I think I might have been had somewhere…