What a day! As I mentioned before, I can't really say what actually happens in the assessment process for my new unit, but I made it! For a minute or two I was sure I would be taking a position at Camp Dungheap in central Saskatuan, but I made it and we report this summer. Here's where the day gets fun. I finished with everything early in the afternoon and so have time to kill until my plane leaves tomorrow morning. I talked to another guy who was in the same situation and he said he was able to get on an earlier flight. After all, why wait? I had to check it out.
The airport is about 1 hour or so from here and it takes a few minutes to check in and get through security so I gotta allow for some extra time plus I still had to check out of my room which shouldn't take all that long. So after calling the airlines I determined that if I left within 38 seconds of hanging up the phone and zipped through the hotel lobby and then drove non stop at about 183 miles per hour, I could make it to an earlier flight and see my family for dinner (I haven't seen them for 5 1/2 months). I quickly packed, which didn't take very long, except that I think my t-shirts had kids because all of a sudden I didn't have enough room for my stuff. After much pounding and prying on my luggage, I headed down to the lobby to stand behind a guy with an unsolvable problem. He had the clerk tied up over something like getting a different room because his wasn't clean. AS IF! So, I finally cleared the hotel and jumped into my rented car and headed for the airport. It was a pleasant enough drive. But as I approached the airport I remembered the rental agreement stating, "If you return this car missing any gas, you will have to pay approximately the annual GNP of Andorra to have us fill it for you. Thank you for using Franks Rent a Car!" So I had to stop and waste precious time filling the car with gas. Come on man! Finally, I got to the airport and headed for the rental turn in. And after being directed by the guy in the blue vest to go there, the guy in the purple vest said I had to go there instead. Bill's rentals on the left, Franks on the right. At last I'm on my way to the ticket counter where my ticket is waiting (I reserved it over the phone). But in my haste I went to the wrong counter. The gentleman behind it was very helpful and really wanted to get me squared away which he did. As I left the counter he put a nice red sticker on my newly purchased ticket and I headed for the plane. After easily flying through security of course! Here enters the Curse of the Red Sticker. Because my ticket was a last minute purchase, I was a security risk. That's right, Chaplain Lewis, US Army, loving husband and father, minister of the Gospel, is a security risk. So I got to go to the special line where time stands still. I put my backpack on the conveyor to be x-rayed while I removed some of my clothing and all of my shoes and received a severe "wanding". As I was being "wanded" I noticed a funny look on the x-ray technicians face. Back and forth the conveyor went as if he was trying to figure out what he was seeing. He called a buddy over and they had a look together. Soon there was a small party going on at the 12 inch black and white TV and almost in unison, as though rehearsed, they looked at me, Chaplain Terrorist. I knew with out a word from my audience what they where looking at. I had left my pocket knife in my back pack. I finished taking my "wanding" and proceeded to try to explain the knife. I'm not out to take over the world. I just want to see my family. Fine with them. But what to do with the knife? They kindly informed me that I had several very good options. First, I could put it in my checked luggage, which at that point was buried in 8000 other pieces of checked luggage. Second, I could return to the front desk, get the necessary supplies and mail it home. This, of course, would mean another "wanding" upon reentry. Lastly, I could simply put it in the amnesty bin. Well, hey that's perfect. It's just a very nice knife that I paid good money for that I'll never see again. Can I give you a hundred dollars with that, too? Well, seeing as my flight was soon to depart, I opted for the amnesty (my boy will love this new knife I found at work) box. Thank you Mr. Lewis for your understanding and cooperation. Could you please step right over here while we complete the necessary paperwork for your generous donation. So I stood and explained the "forgotten knife in the backpack in hopes of taking over the world" trick to the extremely quick penned clerk. Once we finished Amnesty Form 1452-45s and the necessary Knife Disclosure Statement I headed for the gate. And believe it or not, I made it home early, and had dinner with my wife and kids.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
The Joy Of Floaties
It snowed a little last night. Just a dusting. And when I got up at 1 million AM it was dark and cold. I think I'll go swimming! I arrived at the pool (an indoor pool fortunately) and entered the water ready to learn how to float. I tried and tried but still I sink. I knew all along that I would be taking the retest at the end of my hour of "training" so I was more than a little nervous. I'm not real big on omens or signs, per se, but as I sank time and again, the snow storm outside grew and grew until it was an angry white out. And as before, just to make things even, I gulped a lung full of water and proceeded with the test. Ultimately, I passed...not because I learned to float, but because I learned stay only 15 inches below the surface instead of on the bottom of the pool. Apparently, floating is a big part of serving in this unit so I better figure it out somehow. I wonder if they allow implants?
Monday, January 26, 2004
Like a Rock
Today I began the assessment process into my next unit. I am excited about the prospects of ministry it offers. If I successfully complete the tasks given me this week, I will be assigned there for about the next 3 years or so. The best part about a move to out of Louisiana is that my family will be in a decent city should I ever have to deploy or leave for training. No more Sherwood Forrest or Leesville. I'm only guessing but there are probably more than 2 restaurants in town and more than just a single Wal-Mart for shopping. So I am glad they will have new opportunities. I think it will be a good place and a good unit for raising our kids as they enter their teen years.
At any rate, the assessment process is something of a secret. They made me sign a non-disclosure statement so that no one outside of the unit would find out what really happens (such as the secret handshake). Actually it is simply a way to ensure that future inductees experience the same level of uncertainty and stress that I did. And I did. What I can tell you this far, is that it began with a PT test and a swim test.
The PT test was your standard, hateful, stress inducing US Army torture session that it always is. I think I did fairly well (or at least well enough to pass). After the PT test they had us do some pull ups. This is not a good time to do pullups. It'd be like striking your legs with a ball peen hammer for several minutes just to tenderize them nicely and then doing 600 pound leg presses. The nice thing was that the grader said something like do as many as you want any way you want. It didn't really matter, he seemed to be saying. So the rest of the group ripped out hundreds of perfectly styled pullups, each one showing supreme definition of the very fibers of muscle in their arms, chest and back. I, sporting my legendary pipe cleaner arms, did three. I just figured, if he wanted 40 he should have said 40.
The swim test is terribly misnamed. It did actually began with swimming. Mind you that we were in our BDUs, boots, flight vest, and helmet during this wonderful test of aquatic dexterity. First we had to swim several different strokes for a certain distance (measured in furlongs, I think). This went great. Sure, I actually inhaled several pints of chlorinated water but I finished the swim. Here is where the title "swim test" should end. Next we had to tread water for about 17 hours using no arms or no legs or whatever. I did it using no lungs. I discovered that while swimming is not a problem, not swimming is. When horizontal motion stops, vertical takes over and I sink. Full lungs were of no help. My fatless body sinks like a rock. Well, I did so great on the sinking test that they asked me to come back tomorrow. Joy.
At any rate, the assessment process is something of a secret. They made me sign a non-disclosure statement so that no one outside of the unit would find out what really happens (such as the secret handshake). Actually it is simply a way to ensure that future inductees experience the same level of uncertainty and stress that I did. And I did. What I can tell you this far, is that it began with a PT test and a swim test.
The PT test was your standard, hateful, stress inducing US Army torture session that it always is. I think I did fairly well (or at least well enough to pass). After the PT test they had us do some pull ups. This is not a good time to do pullups. It'd be like striking your legs with a ball peen hammer for several minutes just to tenderize them nicely and then doing 600 pound leg presses. The nice thing was that the grader said something like do as many as you want any way you want. It didn't really matter, he seemed to be saying. So the rest of the group ripped out hundreds of perfectly styled pullups, each one showing supreme definition of the very fibers of muscle in their arms, chest and back. I, sporting my legendary pipe cleaner arms, did three. I just figured, if he wanted 40 he should have said 40.
The swim test is terribly misnamed. It did actually began with swimming. Mind you that we were in our BDUs, boots, flight vest, and helmet during this wonderful test of aquatic dexterity. First we had to swim several different strokes for a certain distance (measured in furlongs, I think). This went great. Sure, I actually inhaled several pints of chlorinated water but I finished the swim. Here is where the title "swim test" should end. Next we had to tread water for about 17 hours using no arms or no legs or whatever. I did it using no lungs. I discovered that while swimming is not a problem, not swimming is. When horizontal motion stops, vertical takes over and I sink. Full lungs were of no help. My fatless body sinks like a rock. Well, I did so great on the sinking test that they asked me to come back tomorrow. Joy.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
The Six Year Follow Up
As part of my upcoming assessment into what I hope will be my next unit, I have to undergo a two-part physical. I've already completed part one, which was little more than depositing various bodily fluids into various containers, tubes, beakers, cups, and a jar or two. Today, however, was part two—a totally different story.
Part two of the standard U.S. Army Flight Physical began with a quick check-up by the eye doctor, who promptly discovered that I need glasses. Well, that'll make you feel old. So now I wear glasses, but only when I need to actually see clearly. The next step was to actually be seen by the local flight surgeon. He checked everything, including things that ought not to be checked by another man. It was not natural or ever intended by our beneficent Creator. Besides which, he had fingers the size of my thighs. Anytime a doctor tells you to "clean up," you know you've been through hell.
That done, we sat down for a good old-fashioned medical inquisition, wherein he asked me questions such as, "Do you have a family history of heart disease?" "Have you ever had a panic attack?" and "Are you busy Friday evening?" Seriously, after much questioning, he said, "Well, chaplain, everything looks good!" and, with that, he proceeded to sign my paperwork so that I could head out and conquer the world. But wait, what's this? This whole thing was going way too smoothly. "I can't sign this!" says he. "Why not?" ask I. "You must be deployable, and you are not, due to some necessary dental work." Well, this was easily explainable. I had a root canal several months back (see my entry for October 21, 2003, Yin, Yang, and the Zen of Dental Agony), which required some follow-up work. Said follow-up work would require that I be placed on the "Follow-Up Work Required" waiting list. Sadly, this list is approximately six years long. So I was unable to get the necessary follow-up work in time for my trip. Thus, I was between a rock and a hard place. The doctor suggested I go to the dental clinic, explain my situation, and ask them to fix me up. On the surface, this sounds like a good idea. The problem is that, because of where I am stationed, my dental records were two hours away.
So, a bit later, I walked into the dentist's office hoping there was a good root canal follow-up guy there and proceeded to explain to the clerk that I needed a root canal but didn't have records with me, and I needed it right now, and you're gonna have to believe me. Basically, I was not just between a rock and a hard place; I was sandwiched between two concrete slabs. After pleading my case to the clerk, he asked me to have a seat while he conferred with the dentist. Soon, out came a dentist-looking guy who happened to be the local root canal expert, happened to be free for a couple of hours, and was just dying to fix my tooth. PTL! Two hours later, I walked out feeling like a million bucks, except for the right half of my head, which was feeling like a dead fish.
That done, I am now able to go and see if my "new unit" would ever want a guy who's had a root canal twice in one tooth. We'll see.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Korea: Land of Converging Winds
During the summer months in Korea it got so hot and humid that I was beginning to think I was living in hell. Those days are gone...Hell has frozen over. It snowed much of yesterday and last night, and by this morning we had a lovely white blanket covering a freshly beautified Camp Bonifas. Along with the beauty of the snow comes it's tyrannical soul mate, cold! Man is it cold. The usual nice three minute stroll to my office has quickly become a twenty-five second sprint for life. You see there is a wind that blows through the Panmun valley that originates somewhere near the north pole and converges with an unusual south pole wind right in front of my office. It's not a particularly hard blowing wind, but the unique combination of north and south freezing winds allows it to actually freeze thought! And the fact that I weigh 150 pounds soaking wet and have approximately -6% body fat is of no real help in defending against the attack of the demon wind. Get the idea. It's cold.
It's funny how people react. Last night as the snow was really beginning to come down, there were a bunch of guys out on the parade field having a snow fight / football game. Just looking at them as I sprinted by made me cold. Nevertheless, despite the cold, it is beautiful. Last night's snow was kind of wet and it stuck to everything. Thus there is a small layer of snow even on the barbed wire surrounding the camp. And the empty rice paddies in the area are frozen solid. A couple of them look like white skating rinks. Today the snow has stopped but the cold won't let it melt despite the clear skies and blazing bright sun. It is so bright outside you almost can't see.
It's nice to stand at my window and look at everything outside. Too bad it's not as inviting as it looks. The forecast is for more snow in a couple of days. Summer is sounding better by the minute.
It's funny how people react. Last night as the snow was really beginning to come down, there were a bunch of guys out on the parade field having a snow fight / football game. Just looking at them as I sprinted by made me cold. Nevertheless, despite the cold, it is beautiful. Last night's snow was kind of wet and it stuck to everything. Thus there is a small layer of snow even on the barbed wire surrounding the camp. And the empty rice paddies in the area are frozen solid. A couple of them look like white skating rinks. Today the snow has stopped but the cold won't let it melt despite the clear skies and blazing bright sun. It is so bright outside you almost can't see.
It's nice to stand at my window and look at everything outside. Too bad it's not as inviting as it looks. The forecast is for more snow in a couple of days. Summer is sounding better by the minute.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Professional Amputation
I'm losing my right arm! Well, kind of. Tomorrow my Chaplain's Assistant, SGT Lanier, is leaving. He is transitioning back to the United States after 15 months in Korea and will be stationed in Texas. This is what the Army is made of and what makes it a unique social institution. As we move from place to place we say goodbye to old friends and immediately begin to make new ones. Relationship building in the military moves in hyperdrive. There is no time to wait around for just the right neighbors or just the right co-workers. If you wait too long, they're gone before you have a chance to meet them and you'll spend your life feeling very lonely.
Over the past 6 months, SGT Lanier and I have worked well together and I have grown to appreciate him as a soldier, a confidante, and a friend. We would spend many mornings sipping coffee and talking about home, family, food, Korea, and anything else that came to mind. We bounced ideas and strategies for ministry off one another and developed plans and procedures to make things run smoother. And when it came down to doing ministry, he was my right arm. I would not have been nearly as effective a minister were he not here, because while I was preaching and shaking hands and counseling, he was preparing and counting and ensuring that the next event was ready to go. He has been one step ahead of me every where I have gone and when I arrived there, I looked like a genius because of his work. What more could I ask for.
I have no idea what my next assistant will be like. Over time we'll sip coffee and talk of home and build a relationship. I do know this, however, if he is half the NCO that SGT Lanier has been during the past 6 months, I am in great shape.
Over the past 6 months, SGT Lanier and I have worked well together and I have grown to appreciate him as a soldier, a confidante, and a friend. We would spend many mornings sipping coffee and talking about home, family, food, Korea, and anything else that came to mind. We bounced ideas and strategies for ministry off one another and developed plans and procedures to make things run smoother. And when it came down to doing ministry, he was my right arm. I would not have been nearly as effective a minister were he not here, because while I was preaching and shaking hands and counseling, he was preparing and counting and ensuring that the next event was ready to go. He has been one step ahead of me every where I have gone and when I arrived there, I looked like a genius because of his work. What more could I ask for.
I have no idea what my next assistant will be like. Over time we'll sip coffee and talk of home and build a relationship. I do know this, however, if he is half the NCO that SGT Lanier has been during the past 6 months, I am in great shape.
Saturday, December 13, 2003
How To Make A Soldier Cry
The upside is, it's over! The down side is, it's over! For months the lions share of our effort as the Unit Ministry Team at Camp Bonifas has been aimed at today. Approximately 8 weeks ago we generated an Operations Order (OPORD) and since issuing that OPORD to the battalion, we have been faced with planning everything about today down to the detail. Stress has become a way of life. As the day grew closer, today is just about all I thought about. So now it's over and I can breathe easier. On the other hand, today was such a success in the eyes of those that matter that I wish it could have lasted longer than it did. Today was the annual Pyong Hwa Orphanage Christmas Party. Fifty-seven kids ranging from 5 to 19 came to the JSA for a day of fun, music, food, and all out play. Here's how it went...
Several weeks ago, as part of the planning process, we collected the names and ages of the students from the orphanage and began to talk to every soldier, NCO and officer on post to see if they would sponsor a child for the party. In the end we had one US soldier and one ROK soldier sponsoring each child. Sponsoring a child meant buying them an age and gender appropriate gift, wrapping it, and then spending today with that child as much as possible. An eight hour adoption, if you will. Some soldiers adopted 3 or 4 kids. When they arrived today, we had the gym set up with huge inflatable games and ball throwing games. Outside we had 2 Humvee's ready to take the children on rides around camp. We also had one parked for them to climb all over and explore. There were 4 or 5 soldiers decked out in all their military gear with faces painted and guns and everything. Then there was a 50 caliber machine gun set up and an M240B machine gun set up for the kids to sit behind and pretend they were shooting. We also had our ambulance there in case of an emergency and also let the kids climb inside while the medics explained everything to them. So they got off the buses we had sent to pick them up, linked them up with their US and ROK soldier sponsors and then sent them into the gym to play and explore to their hearts content. The looks on their faces would melt your heart. I'm talking about the tough infantry studs playing with the kids. It was amazing.
After playtime, we marched them up to another building where they lined up and out came Santa Clause. They were pumped (the kids too). So each child, in turn, sat in Santa's lap, got their gifts from both soldiers, had their picture taken, and then moved out smartly to open and play with said gift. That was about the most fun. And to top that off, the Marine Corps gave us 57 of the most amazing gifts imaginable from "Toys for Tots" so each child received 3 presents. And man did they play and make a ton of noise (and the kids too). All during this Santa time, a brass ensemble from the 8th Army Band in Seoul were playing background Christmas music. It was perfect.
Next was dinner. We marched them down to the Dining Facility where they ate like kings. Fried chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs, turkey, rice, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, fries, onion rings, salads, deserts, jello. You name it, they had it available and the kids had a wonderful meal sitting by their sponsors unable to communicate verbally but smiling ear to ear and loving each others company. One of the kids I sponsored was a 13 year old girl with a great sense of humor. We took turns at dinner pointing across the room at some imaginary distraction and then when the other turned their head we would steal something off their plate. At one point she didn't bother to distract me and just reached over with her fork and took the slice of turkey I had just cut.
As the children and their soldiers finished eating they trickled back up to the Santa room. When all had arrived, they put on a show for the soldiers that was amazing. They did about 7 folk dances in varying age groups. First a bunch of girls no more than 5 or 6 years old came out and did a traditional Korean fan dance that was amazing. You should have seen the soldiers watching them. These were love stricken men and they didn't even know it. You could see them smiling at their kids and waving as though they were their own. One of the dances was performed by two little girls around 7 years old. They were dressed in beautiful white dresses and did the most graceful dance I think I've ever seen. I remember watching them and being struck by their grace and femininity. It was beautiful and not a person in the room made a noise until they finished. I thought the windows would break for all the applause and whistling. Such tough infantry guys. After that we made an attempt to sing some carols with the kids, accompanied by the 8th Army Band, and then it was time to say good bye. The kids piled on their busses and the soldiers surrounded them. Arms and heads were moving in and out of the windows as each tried to remain with their kids at least one more second. Kisses and hugs were too numerous to count. The busses couldn't move because of the mass of soldiers pressed around them. I went to the door of one bus to tell the driver to move out slowly and a little girl in the font row jumped into my arms saying "Moksahnim" (pronounced Moke Sah Neem) which is a special reverent word for pastor. She was 6 years old. She hugged my neck and gave me a big kiss right on my mouth and then smiled at me. I melted.
Finally, the busses began to pull away with a hundred soldiers waving and blowing kisses to children they will probably never see again. No one wanted to turn and walk away. As the busses moved out a little boy leaned out the window and saluted. Every guy gasped and started laughing in order to keep from crying.
So I'm glad it's over. But if I could I would do it again right now.
Several weeks ago, as part of the planning process, we collected the names and ages of the students from the orphanage and began to talk to every soldier, NCO and officer on post to see if they would sponsor a child for the party. In the end we had one US soldier and one ROK soldier sponsoring each child. Sponsoring a child meant buying them an age and gender appropriate gift, wrapping it, and then spending today with that child as much as possible. An eight hour adoption, if you will. Some soldiers adopted 3 or 4 kids. When they arrived today, we had the gym set up with huge inflatable games and ball throwing games. Outside we had 2 Humvee's ready to take the children on rides around camp. We also had one parked for them to climb all over and explore. There were 4 or 5 soldiers decked out in all their military gear with faces painted and guns and everything. Then there was a 50 caliber machine gun set up and an M240B machine gun set up for the kids to sit behind and pretend they were shooting. We also had our ambulance there in case of an emergency and also let the kids climb inside while the medics explained everything to them. So they got off the buses we had sent to pick them up, linked them up with their US and ROK soldier sponsors and then sent them into the gym to play and explore to their hearts content. The looks on their faces would melt your heart. I'm talking about the tough infantry studs playing with the kids. It was amazing.
After playtime, we marched them up to another building where they lined up and out came Santa Clause. They were pumped (the kids too). So each child, in turn, sat in Santa's lap, got their gifts from both soldiers, had their picture taken, and then moved out smartly to open and play with said gift. That was about the most fun. And to top that off, the Marine Corps gave us 57 of the most amazing gifts imaginable from "Toys for Tots" so each child received 3 presents. And man did they play and make a ton of noise (and the kids too). All during this Santa time, a brass ensemble from the 8th Army Band in Seoul were playing background Christmas music. It was perfect.
Next was dinner. We marched them down to the Dining Facility where they ate like kings. Fried chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs, turkey, rice, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, fries, onion rings, salads, deserts, jello. You name it, they had it available and the kids had a wonderful meal sitting by their sponsors unable to communicate verbally but smiling ear to ear and loving each others company. One of the kids I sponsored was a 13 year old girl with a great sense of humor. We took turns at dinner pointing across the room at some imaginary distraction and then when the other turned their head we would steal something off their plate. At one point she didn't bother to distract me and just reached over with her fork and took the slice of turkey I had just cut.
As the children and their soldiers finished eating they trickled back up to the Santa room. When all had arrived, they put on a show for the soldiers that was amazing. They did about 7 folk dances in varying age groups. First a bunch of girls no more than 5 or 6 years old came out and did a traditional Korean fan dance that was amazing. You should have seen the soldiers watching them. These were love stricken men and they didn't even know it. You could see them smiling at their kids and waving as though they were their own. One of the dances was performed by two little girls around 7 years old. They were dressed in beautiful white dresses and did the most graceful dance I think I've ever seen. I remember watching them and being struck by their grace and femininity. It was beautiful and not a person in the room made a noise until they finished. I thought the windows would break for all the applause and whistling. Such tough infantry guys. After that we made an attempt to sing some carols with the kids, accompanied by the 8th Army Band, and then it was time to say good bye. The kids piled on their busses and the soldiers surrounded them. Arms and heads were moving in and out of the windows as each tried to remain with their kids at least one more second. Kisses and hugs were too numerous to count. The busses couldn't move because of the mass of soldiers pressed around them. I went to the door of one bus to tell the driver to move out slowly and a little girl in the font row jumped into my arms saying "Moksahnim" (pronounced Moke Sah Neem) which is a special reverent word for pastor. She was 6 years old. She hugged my neck and gave me a big kiss right on my mouth and then smiled at me. I melted.
Finally, the busses began to pull away with a hundred soldiers waving and blowing kisses to children they will probably never see again. No one wanted to turn and walk away. As the busses moved out a little boy leaned out the window and saluted. Every guy gasped and started laughing in order to keep from crying.
So I'm glad it's over. But if I could I would do it again right now.
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