CONUS Battle Drills

Don’t be an absent Father

Sometimes being a father can be disgusting. The following story is not for the faint of heart…

Afghanistan 2005

During the first Afghan elections, someone had gotten upset that a local Mullah was supporting the elections and placed a bomb under his chair. When he sat down during the full service, the bomb exploded, killing him and injuring people in the full mosque. When we arrived with the EOD team, the chaos had mostly died down, but the elders were very distraught. They were afraid that there might be additional devices and asked us to clear the mosque and see what we could find. It was precarious not just because the mosque could still be booby-trapped, but also because American soldiers were entering a mosque and that was generally considered a faux pas.

Myself, SSG Carroll, SGT Harrell and a couple EOD guys made our way towards the front entrance. I noticed bits of burnt flesh stuck to the window as we checked the door. As soon as we entered the building, I was hit by the smell. Imagine everything inside of your body, blood, bile, piss, shit, even skin and hair all exposed and charred and left for hours. My eyes began to water and I could feel my stomach churning already.

I looked around the mostly empty room and could immediately identify where the bomb went off. The columns on my side were mostly empty, but on the other side were still splattered with blood and small bits of flesh. Little pieces of bone littered the carpet and we moved slowly around the room. None of us spoke, besides the random “fuck” or “shit”, I think because most of us were trying to keep from lurching right then and there.

Once our initial pass was done, I approached the location of the blast and I felt a squish under my feet. I looked down and the carpet was so saturated with blood that it began to pool at the edge of my boot. I could tell by the aftermath that although his body had been blown to bits, a large chunk slammed into the column and blood poured out right where I was standing. Some poor soul had to drag what was left of him out.

I looked up in my disgust as the EOD approached the blast site. “You good?” I managed to utter without vomiting, he looked at me and nodded and I started towards the door to get out. Carroll and I made eye contact and I nodded towards the door as the both of us walked quickly to the exit. As soon as the door opened, Carroll looked at me and said, “That fucking sme…” he couldn’t finish the sentence before dry heaving. I felt my own stomach bubble as I watched him, “not in front of the mosque dude!” We both quickly ran down the steps into the courtyard to catch our breath.

CONUS Present day

The baby had something in his mouth as he sat in the tub. I didn’t notice it when I put him in there, but when I stuck the toothbrush in there, something came out with it and as I looked at his little face, I noticed something odd. “Are you chewing on something Ben?” He looked up at me and smiled while keeping his lips together. It forced his cheeks full…that’s when I knew. He wouldn’t let me in there, so I held his nose and when his mouth opened I went in and began fishing out this white gooey substance. It seemed like it kept coming forever. Jonathan saw me doing it and almost barfed right there in the bathtub. I had a vision of fishing puke out of a tub full of toys, and i’ve already had to do it with a turd, didn’t really want to do it with puke. “Look away Jonathan!” He turned and dry heaved in the corner as I finished clearing his baby brother’s mouth, who was now in full wailing mode. Turns out Mom gave him a baby-bell before bath.

——-

I was walking down the hallway when I felt something under my toe. I looked down and picked it up with my bare hands without even thinking about it. As I held this object I was able to examine it much more closely. It was a dark brown, almost black squishy ball. It was a bit moist, and oozed some juice as I squished it. My wife turned and looked at me as I held it. The concern in her eyes told me that she was having the same thought I was, “Is this shit?” There was only one way to find out for sure. I brought the small ball to my face and gave it a sniff.

…

whew…a cocoa puff.

Look, you can be an absent dad, making your wife take care of everything, but she will begin to resent you, the kids won’t know and trust you, and even though you’ll miss out on things like fishing out a turd from the tub, you’ll also miss out on all the wonderful things that come with being a dad.

There is no greater joy in this world than having one of your kids want to share their lives with you. Unless you make the sacrifices…the sometimes disgusting sacrifices…you’ll miss out on life’s greatest reward.

-LJF

Merry Christmas from the Taliban

Christmas Firefight…

Although I’ve told this story many times, there is an element of it that I’ve kept to myself because I didn’t think it was socially acceptable, but recently i’ve seen enough papers, articles, and posts to realize that I’m not the only one that has felt this, and so, for the first time the whole story:

December 2005 Afghanistan

Captain Teague, our company commander, had apprehensively gone on leave the two weeks prior, and like most of the men of Bravo company, he was eager to return to Afghanistan. We were getting into firefights on a weekly or bi-weekly basis, so leaving for three weeks or more meant that you were likely to miss one, and none of us wanted to miss one. Had we been given the option, i’m sure most of the Bravo men would have deferred on leave to be there with their brothers in combat. Teague got lucky and nothing happened in the three weeks during his absence, and I think it was the day he got back (or the next day) that we got into the largest firefight of the entire deployment.

Camp Tillman was a small base named after the Arizona Cardinals player killed in Afghanistan. It sat less than two kilometers from Pakistan right along a major supply route for enemy fighters. We slept in concrete buildings with one metal door, around 30 guys to a room. I slept right by the door to be easy to find and so I could get up quickly if need be. I was deep in REM sleep when the metal door violently swung open and SGT Harvey Lewis yelled, “The base is getting attacked!” as he shimmied past my cot towards his gear in the back of the room. I stood up and pushed the door open to see for myself. I remember thinking that I didn’t hear the familiar sounds of whooshing rockets or mortars, so his words didn’t make sense. When I pushed the door open I saw, through the bright moon-lit sky, hundreds of tracers and heard the sharp cracks of AK rounds pinging all around the base.

My heart leapt, and this is the part I’ve never told, I was excited for this fight. Enemy fighters within our lines, inside the base, this is the kind of shit they make movies out of! I slipped my feet into my boots, pulled the laces tight and tucked them into the sides. I threw my plate carrier over my head, grabbed my LCE and helmet, snapped my NODs into place and kicked the door open. I was the first one out of the hooch wearing only shorts and a brown t-shirt under my gear and I didn’t look back, I knew my guys were coming. I could hear the distinct sound of an AK firing and I was moving towards it quickly. Those fuckers had breached our wall and I was about to place some controlled pairs center mass to teach all of them a lesson.

My senses were extremely heightened. The cold night air filled my lungs, I could feel the snow crunching beneath my feet…movement on my periphery! I spotted something out of the corner of my right eye (I had a monocular night vision) and spun quickly. The PEQ-2 infared laser stopped right center mass on the target when I noticed it was a friendly and my thumb lightened pressure on the selector switch leaving the weapon on safe. I continued rapidly moving to the edge of the building towards the sound of the AK.

I reached the corner and could hear my soldiers pouring out of the door behind me and the AK firing on the other side of the wall. This was it, I was about to come face-to-face with the invading hoard, the adrenaline was coursing violently through my veins and I let out a sharp breath to steady myself as I spun out around the corner. My thumb pressed tightly against the selector switch and my trigger finger slipped onto the trigger. With my left hand I squeezed the pressure switch on my gangster grip turning the infrared laser onto the target, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t an invading hoard.

A single solitary Afghan soldier with his back against the HESCO wall had his eyes closed, his AK over his head, and was holding the trigger firing full auto into the darkness. That man had no idea how close to death he came at my hands. In a fraction of a second I recognized he wasn’t the enemy and released the pressure on the selector switch once again.

The enemy never did actually breach our perimeter, despite bringing over three hundred men to attack our small outpost of only 120 men. What they didn’t take into account is that Camp Tillman, although small in numbers, every one of us was either a paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne or a Green Beret, basically some of the baddest motherfuckers on the planet. We fought them off for several hours, then bombed them with a predator (when it finally showed up), then chased them down and got into another firefight right on the border. The fight started the night of December 22nd and basically ended in the late afternoon of the 23rd. Not one US soldier was killed, and we covered the Afghan mountainside with the blood of our enemies.

I tell this story for two reasons, one, because I just celebrated the 10 year anniversary of that fight, and two, because I want my brothers to know that they are not sociopaths for loving what they did. There were two types of people on September 11th, there were those that were glad they weren’t on the planes, and those that wished they had been on the plane. The former don’t understand the latter, and on that cold December night in Afghanistan, I was surrounded by the latter.

Most of us in shorts and t-shirts laying in the snow, surging with adrenaline and excitement as we dealt a serious ass-whooping to the enemy. It may be difficult for civilians to understand, but I actually enjoyed the firefights. It was fun, it was a challenge, and ten years later, I remember that night and the fight the next day fondly, as do many of my brothers. That’s one of the reasons getting out was so difficult. I now understand why guys like Michael Jordan, or Peyton Manning, or Mike Tyson have such a hard time calling it quits, when you’re doing something you love, it’s hard to walk away.

Veteran Profile: Ed Jasper

In this first installment of Veteran Profiles, listen to Ed talk about his 20 years with the Army and more than 14 years with John Deere.

Military Experience

United States Army – 1981 – 2001 – (MOS 67N/67T/67Z)

In the early years, I was a UH-1H (Huey) Crew Chief, Section Sergeant, Instructor, and Quality Control NCOIC. In the later years, I was a Production Control NCOIC, Squadron S3 NCOIC, and Retired as a 1SG of a UH-60 (Blackhawk) Troop

Current Position and Civilian Work Experience

Manager of Program Management Office, John Deere – Cary, NC

I have worked for John Deere for 14.5 year and had multiple assignments in Factory Operations, Project Management, Quality Engineering, and Program Management

The Big 4 Questions:

Were you financially ready to get out? What steps did you take?

No, I was not financially ready to get out!

I was a 1SG with 3 kids in High School, and one kid was getting ready to start college. I was fortunate that I found a good job with a great company and literally left the Army on Thursday, drove across country and started with John Deere on Monday.

I tried to be as debt free as possible, ensured my credit report was clean and accurate, and bought a house that was below what we were approved for to help control expenses.

Why did you want to get out?

I loved the Army, but it was time.

I loved working with soldiers and spent my entire career in Army Aviation and was still crewing helicopters occasionally as a 1SG. It may sound funny, but I was not interested in becoming a CSM and what that rank would entail at that point in my career. I had been a 1SG for 3 years, and the family was ready to have me home more. In 2001, to become a CSM, I would have had to go to the academy, spend a year at Ft. Bliss, and then be subject to an assignment worldwide. I had three kids in high school, and that level of uncertainty did not seem like the right thing to drag them through. Based on what I thought my next step in the Army was, and the needs of my family, it was time to go.

Did you know where you wanted to live?

I have a funny story about where “we wanted to live”. We had lived all over the world, and our last duty station we were stationed at Ft. Carson, CO which is an awesome assignment. My wife and I were discussing the whole retirement plan, when a commercial for Colonial Williamsburg came on the TV. We had lived in the area previously for a few years when I was stationed at Ft. Eustis. We both thought going back to the Tidewater Area of Virginia would be a good choice if we did not stay in Colorado. The following day, I got a call from a previous commander of mine that said he had someone from John Deere where he was working in Williamsburg, VA that wanted to talk to me about a job! How is that for karma!

Honestly, I was willing to relocate to any location for the right job. I had seen a number of former coworkers in Army make what I thought was a mistake and limit themselves to a geographic region. This really limited the types of jobs they were getting interviews for.

I know moving is tough on families, but after John Deere made me job offer, it was my kids that told me it was ok to change High Schools again, they would adjust and that Mom and I had to do what was right for our long term future. It was tough on them, but they have all made it through college and are working in their chosen career field.

Did you know what you wanted to do?

No, I had no idea what I really wanted to do. I did have plan, I called it the “5 finger plan” and had a resume that matched each of those paths. They ran the gamut from working for a defense contractor in aviation maintenance to working in public education. The other thing I did when I was in was to finish my degree programs – so I earned an Associate’s Degree while I was still a SPC, earned my Bachelor’s Degree by the time I was a SFC, and finished a Masters in Education the year before I retired. The degrees did not make me any smarter, but they do open doors that might not be available without them.

I knew I wanted to have a challenging job, with a firm I could grow with, and that would offer a level of pay that would improve my standard of living. So far, John Deere continues to offer me new opportunities – I have moved 6 times in 14 years and had 7 primary jobs in that time period and number of other special projects. Not everyone has to move to advance, but they have offered interesting jobs that I wanted to pursue, so it has been a good fit so far.

Quick Tips for Transitioning

If you are enlisted – get as much school as you can to include college, certifications and other training applicable to your career path.
Officer, Senior NCO, or Enlisted – Be willing to take an entry level job with the right company – your experience and work ethic will lead to other opportunities for promotion.
Be willing to relocate to take the right job – go where the work is
Contact others you have served with that are already out – they are a great resource
Practice Interviewing and using words and language that civilians understand
Send your resume to people not in the military to get some feedback – Don’t be offended with the feedback
When you get the first job, find a mentor. Most organizations have some former military in the workforce. Find out who they are, and approach them about mentoring you. They will be invaluable to you in helping to connect the dots as you transition.

Listen to the full interview now, or take it with you and listen on the go!

I want it on the go: Veteran_Profile_Jasper

Listen now:

Do YOU Have a Headhunter?

You need a headhunter, period. How many of you wrote your resume, posted it on monster.com and waited patiently by the phone expecting calls from potential employers? Surprised that you didn’t get a phone call? What if there was a surefire way to get an interview for a job that pays what you are looking for?

Let me put it in a way that you guys will understand.

You decide to go to a nightclub to look for a great woman. When you get there, the line wraps around the block, so you know it’s going to be an awesome club right? There are nearly a thousand people in that club tonight, but there’s a problem…only four ladies. There are 250 dudes for each woman in this club!

You’ve got your eye on one particular hottie, her name is Jobelina, and you saw her online profile. You know what she’s looking for in a man, and you KNOW you’re perfect for her. The problem is that there are 250 other dudes trying to do the same thing, and you can’t even get a chance to talk to Jobelina to show her how perfect you guys are for each other. You might get lucky, and she’ll take a look at you, but only for 6 seconds, so you get drunk and go home alone.

Now let’s imagine this scenario a different way.

Jobelina has a good friend that i’ll call Eddie, and she trusts Eddie. Instead of going to the club and trying to get her attention somehow, you talk to my buddy Eddie, and he gets you a blind date with Jobelina! You moved to the front of the line and got preferential treatment over all the other deuchebags out there spamming their resumes at companies.

That’s how a headhunter works. My headhunter’s name was Eddie Commender with Lucas Group. I never once got an inquiry from any job I applied for on monster or any other job finding site for that matter. Eddie on the other hand got me 9 interviews in a single day with companies like John Deere (obviously), Fidelity, Diageo, Nestle, Unilever, and Rolls Royce to name a few. He helped me write my resume (many of those tips I’ve shared with you), he coached me through interview questions, and then was my advocate after the interviews.

Seven of the nine companies I interviewed with said “yes” and wanted a second interview. It was then up to me to decide! I wasn’t even out of the Army yet, but thanks to my headhunter, I had companies waiting in line for me. It was by far the best decision I made for my career.

You absolutely must get a headhunter, you don’t have to go with Lucas Group, there are others out there, but do not go it alone. Don’t think that there are employers out there scouring job sites looking for veterans to hire, because they’re not. You need an advocate who literally feeds his family by getting you a job.

-LJF

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