Wow! Great submissions this week from some very talented people, thank you all. Alas, there can be only one caption and this week’s winning caption is brought to us by MajorDad…
“Wouldn’t it just be easier, LT, if we moved 10 feet to the right and STEPPED over the wall?”
(Photo courtesy U.S. Army)
Have a great weekend all and look for the next captionless photo on Monday. Sgt Hook out.
I have it on good authority that tonight’s episode of The Unit on CBS at 2100 Eastern will be outstanding.
Imagine Mexican Drug Minister Salazar arrives in Los Angeles for high level discussions with the D.E.A., and the Unit has reliable intelligence that a Mexican cartel plans to assassinate him on U.S. soil. Of course their mission to protect him becomes even more complex when Salazar’s family is kidnapped. In addition to protecting the dignitary, now, the Unit must find and save his wife and two children before they are murdered. Meanwhile, a former Unit member’s wife tries to lure away Unit members by enticing their wives with the prospect of big money to be made in the private sector.
Several years ago, whilst stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, not yet having met the lovely and talented and downright sexy Mrs. Hook, I used to do my laundry Saturday mornings at a Laundromat not far from my apartment. As a single soldier my thought process was along the lines of this… single women must also have to do laundry on Saturday mornings, therefore, what better place to meet an available woman? Right? I was sorely mistaken. As it turned out, my Saturday mornings were filled with just a bunch of guys washing their boxers without even the thought of using softener. After a few weeks of enduring the “boy’s laundry club”, I discovered a small local pub next door to the Laundromat.
I walked into the dimly lit bar for the first time, noticing that there was already a half dozen patrons though the hour was not quite noon. It was one of those pubs that had only a handful of tables, a long bar with at least a dozen bar stools, a large mirror covering the wall behind the bar, a jar of pickles, a jar of hard boiled eggs, bowls of peanuts and pretzels all placed throughout, and an attractive gal in her mid to late twenties tending to the bar, her dirty blonde hair tied in a pony tail, wearing tight blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt emblazoned with the Corona Cerveza insignia. The place smelled of stale beer and cigarettes.
Bellying up near the end of the wonderfully maintained mahogany bar, I replied, “Budweiser” to the bartender’s inquiry of “what can I getcha honey?” I recall being pleasantly surprised to discover that the long neck bottle of beer cost only a $1.25, the exact price for a load of laundry next door. I kept mostly to myself, killing the time it took for the wash cycle with a beer while watching ESPN on the television hanging from the ceiling in the corner. A small group of three older men and one woman sat together, side by side, about midway down the bar, talking about the news of the day, politics, sports, and NASCAR. Another gentleman was dropping money into an electronic gambling machine along the wall opposite the lavatory as if he were a high roller in Vegas. Occasionally, the attractive barkeep would stop by and see if he needed a refill on his Diet Coke.
“Can I getcha another honey?” she asked pulling the empty bottle from in front of me with her left hand, deftly dropping it into a bin under the bar while wiping the mahogany bar top with a towel in her right.
“Please. I’m gonna just run next door and put my clothes in the dryer, be right back,” I answered standing up, leaving enough cash on the bar to pay for the upcoming beer. When I returned, the cash was still there and the barkeep came right to me, pulling a longneck from an iced filled sink behind the bar, twisting the cap off, and setting it in front of me.
“Buck and a quarter honey,” she said taking exactly that from my small pile of money on the bar.
So went my Saturday morning laundry duties for a few weeks. Then one day, as I waited for my drying clothes to finish, in walked a man I made to be in his early to mid-sixties (as it turned out, he was 77 or 78, he wasn’t quite sure). He stood about six-feet tall, with broad shoulders, a tanned face, and a head of closely cropped white hair, with a high and tight cut. I hadn’t seen him before in my three or four visits to the Shamrock Pub, but the regular crowd all knew him well, welcoming Gus with handshakes and slaps on his back. Gus sat down next to me, a single barstool separating us, until he gave up his seat for a woman who joined the group several minutes after he had. He nodded a greeting as he moved to the barstool immediately to my right. I silently nodded a reply, at 32 I was the youngest one in there, the bartender Kate notwithstanding.
Gus caught my attention when he ordered a boiler maker. I recalled my grandfather drinking a boilermaker in the evenings when he came home from a hard day’s work at the newspaper. For those unfamiliar with a boilermaker, it’s an alcoholic beverage consisting of a glass of beer, and a shot of whiskey whereby the shot of whiskey is dropped into the glass of beer and is consumed in that manner. Not for the feint hearted I assure you.
I watched and listened as Gus engaged in conversation with the others, providing opinions on everything from Dale Gordon to Bill Clinton. At one point he turned to me and asked, “You in the service young man?”
“Army,” I replied, setting my empty beer bottle onto the circular O’Doul’s coaster in front of me. “Am I correct to guess that you’re a China Marine sir?” I asked in return.
“Gottdamn kid, don’t call me sir and what do you know about the China Marines?” he boomed.
Hesitating slightly, I answered somewhat feebly, “Not nearly as much as I should.”
I must’ve said something right because Gus called Kate over and instructed her in no uncertain terms to “fix us up here,” pointing at his empty beer glass and my empty bottle. Turning to me he asked, “You know what a boilermaker is kid?”
I nodded and told him a bit about my grandfather who at 14 years of age hopped on a steamer from Scotland to America and eventually found work mining coal in the mountains of Pennsylvania until he later moved to Connecticut finding work at the Hartford Courant newspaper.
“Make that two boilermakers Kate,” Gus commanded.
Gus asked me what I did in the Army and how long I’ve been serving and if I liked “soljur’n.” Then he asked me how I knew he was a China Marine.
“Lucky guess I suppose, but I noticed the tattoo on your forearm and had read about Soochow, the China Marine mascot (on his left forearm was a tattoo of a dog wearing Marine sergeant’s stripes looking tough in front of the USMC symbol with the words “Soochow” written below the image and “4th Marines” above). That and your high and tight hair cut.”
Slapping me on the back he bellowed, “gottdamn you Army guys are perceptive!”
Gus went on to explain that he was indeed a China Marine and had served in Shanghai from 1938 until 1941 when he and the rest of the 4th Marines moved to Corregidor. He regaled me with tales of life in Shanghai as an American Marine, sharing stories of how they made friends with other foreigners from Russia and India who found themselves expatriates in China.
I motioned to Kate to bring us another round not wanting to interrupt Gus.
He went on to tell me about how they deployed to Corregidor Island, Philippines and fought fiercely against the Japanese. Gus talked about friends that he had lost on that island and about running out of water, food, and ammunition. Then he skirted around their surrender and subsequent Bataan Death march following their capture. Speaking only generally of his time spent in a Japanese POW camp until “them gottdamned Army Rangers showed up to rescue our sorry asses.”
Needless to say, I was in awe of the man with whom I shared a couple of boilermakers. I couldn’t help but wonder where America found so many men like Gus and thanked God that we had.
I called a taxi to take me home and later called Kate asking if she wouldn’t mind stopping next door to the Laundromat to retrieve my clothes from the dryer and bring them by after she got off work.
Gus and I shared several boilermakers and stories over the ensuing weeks. Then one Saturday, Gus didn’t show up to the Shamrock Pub. I never saw him again, but am damn glad to have spent the little time that I had with this true American hero, this China Marine. Semper Fidelis Gus. Sgt Hook out.
Sunday, March 26th 2006, by Congressional mandate is National Support the Troops Day. In honor of this auspicious day, I’ve put together a little something for those who wonder why we ought to support “them.” My sincere thanks for those who unhesitantly support our troops and their families, thank you.
They…
They married some ten years ago.
She fell head over heels for her soldier. Her friends made fun of his haircut while she got weak in the knees seeing him in his dress uniform, adorned with his colorful medals and shiny badges. He couldn’t catch his breath at the sight of her; his palms sweat and heart raced every time he thought of her. He has never known fear like he had on the day he dropped to one knee, looking deeply into her beautiful blue eyes, proposing marriage. She loved the way he looked at her, inside of her, through her with his piercing green eyes. They married some ten years ago.
She loved her soldier. He loved his bride. She made the best of what the Army provided. He loved being a soldier. She never let him see her cry when the roaches threatened to overtake the kitchen, when the plumbing backed up, when the paint chipped, or when the window pane just fell from its frame. He loved how she painted the house with reds, yellows, and blues. He loved how she made the dump a home. She wanted him to feel good about coming home after a long exercise. He felt great coming home from the field. They made the best of things.
She gave him a son. He beamed with pride. She gave him a daughter. He missed the birth of his little girl, but beamed with pride when he received the word via a Red Cross message. They had a family.
He performed well as a soldier. She was proud of her soldier. He received several promotions. She was proud of her husband. They moved a lot in ten years, their longest stay at one base was just three years, one of which he spent deployed to Iraq.
He came home with yet another assignment, yet another move. She was tired. They had a lot to think about, a lot to work out.
She dreaded another move. She questioned, “Why they ought to endure this life?” She wasn’t sure that she had it in her. She knew he’d deploy again shortly after their move. She was tired.
He was excited about the new assignment. He was to be a platoon sergeant and would be taking his platoon to Afghanistan in a few months. He felt pride in his chosen profession of arms.
They packed their SUV to the hilt. They pulled the kids out of yet another school. They drove for three days, stopping at the cheapest motels they could find, eating fast food on the road, all the time wondering what awaited them. They uprooted their family once again.
He went right to work. She registered the kids for school. They lived in a hotel for two weeks and ate their meals from a microwave oven until they moved to a trailer for two more weeks while they waited for a house to become available. She openly cried when they finally moved into the dilapidated house that was to be home for the next two years. She was tired of making the best of things. He felt pangs of guilt. They have been asked of so much.
She cried, unable to speak, holding his neck tightly as they said goodbye, for the third time in six years. He whispered his love for her as he pulled away to get on the plane. They watched through teary eyes as dad left again to fight the war on terror. She was tired. They have been asked of so much.
She again left the television tuned to the Fox News Channel 24/7. She again slept only a few hours a night, on the living room sofa, crying herself to sleep each time. She felt hatred for the Army.
He was mad at his dad for making his mom cry, for leaving them, for missing his football games. She was mad at her mom for seemingly not supporting her dad, she worried about her dad, she missed him and wanted him home. He wrote letters to them weekly, missing his family with all his heart. He fought fiercely, with honor and bravery. They sacrificed, they suffered.
She saw the words race across the bottom of the television screen at two in the morning, “… several American soldiers killed and wounded from explosion in Afghanistan.” She felt like throwing up. She refused to answer the phone. She knew he was gone. She cried uncontrollably when the doorbell rang. She was tired.
He loved America, his wife, and his children. They sacrificed, they suffered, they lost him.
This was on most of the MSM outlets but just in case you hadn’t heard, U.S. and Coalition forces rescued three hostages just west of Baghdad.
“Based on intelligence that we recovered over the last 36 hours, an operation was planned and conducted, and those three hostages were rescued,” Army Maj. Gen. Rick Lynch said during a briefing from Baghdad. “I’m happy to report all three are in good condition.”
In an effort to strengthen the Army’s Individual Ready Reserve (IRR) pool, they’ve announced the Individual Warrior initiative.
WASHINGTON (Army News Service, March 22, 2006) — The Army is creating a special “Individual Warrior Category” within the Individual Ready Reserve for Soldiers who are qualified and ready to deploy.
Soldiers in the IW Category will be required to maintain a higher state of readiness than other IRR troops by participating in virtual musters, attending annual readiness processing and –through managed training opportunities — maintaining proficiency in their military occupational specialty.
The IW Category will focus on elevating individual expectation management, proactive career management, unique training opportunities, and promote continuum of service toward a military retirement, officials said.
The Individual Warrior initiative is an excellent idea, especially for those with critical skills not used in peacetime, but become more needed in times of war.
Operation Northern Lights, a joint operation, yielded the discovery of several enemy weapons caches in the area of Abu Ghraib, Iraq. The success of this operation goes beyond the destruction of terrorist’s weapons caches, but that the mission was based off of intelligence from local Iraqis. That in itself is an indication that things are going well.
The joint and combined operation began with 3rd Brigade, 6th Iraqi Army Division, and 1st Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment, moving to blocking positions by ground before Soldiers from 2nd Battalion, 22nd Infantry Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division, air assaulted onto the objective to conduct a cordon and search.
By late afternoon, Soldiers from the 3rd Bde., 6th Iraqi Army Div., discovered five weapons caches, containing a machinegun, a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, three AK-47 assault rifles, 2,200 PKC machine gun rounds, two boxes of gunpowder, an RPG rocket, an Iraqi police jacket, 18 106mm tank rounds, 400 blasting caps, 40 artillery rounds, 17 pressure plate initiators, 20 Motorola radio initiators and thousands of .50 caliber machine gun rounds. They also detained a suspected terrorist near one of the caches.
The Army fields a new Containerized Kitchen for rapid deployments that is capable of feeding troops hot chow within 45 minutes of hitting the ground.
“It took two of the older mobile kitchen trailers to serve 700 Soldiers,” said Sgt. 1st Class Charles Ray, an instructor at the Field Operations Training Branch, Army Center of Excellence, Subsistence, Quartermaster Center and School, Fort Lee, Va. “With one CK, we can serve 800 troops in less time, and with greater mobility than ever before.”
The CK is a self-contained system for food preparation – cooking and warming by utilizing a griddle, steam pans, cook pots, roasting pans, or sheet pans in the oven. Food is kept fresh in two refrigerators or warm in a holding cabinet. Hot and cold water are provided for food prep and clean up.
“Four Soldiers and one supervisor man the CK, and once they reach their destination, it takes less than 45 minutes to get a CK up and running,” Ray added. “The CK is a very efficient system that is mostly beneficial to division-sized elements.”
We’ve come a long way from boiling water in our steel pots to heat up our c-rations.
Soldiers from the 101st Airborne Division/Air Assault provide secruity for pilgrims in Karbala.
MAHMUDIYAH, Iraq (Army News Service, March 22, 2006) – An estimated 3 million Shiites began a yearly journey to Karbala March 17 and Iraqi forces have posted additional security elements along the main highway leading out of Baghdad to safeguard travellers.
Participating in the pilgrimage to Karbala was previously forbidden under ousted ex-president Saddam Hussein.
“Our job is to make sure that everyone is safe and that there are no weapons in the crowd,” said Cpt. Saad Abdullah, 4th Brigade, 6th Iraqi Army Division. “My soldiers have done a very good job following their orders, and I am proud of how they’ve kept everything under control.”
The Army has teamed up with the Air Force (formerly the Army Air Corps) to develop a new cargo aircraft designed for intra-theater operations.
“The aircraft we field will provide a key capability to the joint force commander,” said Dichter. “For 59 years, the Air Force has been the service provider of intra-theater airlift, and for approximately 40 years, we’ve done that with essentially one airplane – the C-130.”
On the Army side, Mundt said that the new aircraft would replace what he called a “very, very old and tired airframe in terms of the C-23 Sherpa, C-12 and C-26. Our Soldiers deserve better than that – we can also get them off the roads so they don’t have to be exposed to improvised explosive devices.”
The Air Force leads the world in the ability to perform operational and strategic intra-theater lift, he said. But because of the changing battlefield, the brigade combat teams modularity and the logistics concept of support changing to a push system, the Army needs additional intra-theater lift capability to fill the last tactical mile.
So if you happen to cross paths with one of your Soldiers when he/she has a moment to catch their breath, a “thank you” would be entirely appropriate. Sgt Hook out.
I’d like to begin this post with a big fat “THANK YOU” to all who hung around waiting for the server issues to be resolved, leaving comments whenever you could, all wrought with patience and support. Thank you. As you may have guessed, the server issues have been resolved, however, I think it only appropriate that I fill in some blanks.
I started pecking away at this thing called a blog back in March, 2003. And like most bloggers, my roots can be traced back to Blogspot. Then in late May of the same year, Kate of Electric Venom convinced me to move Sgt Hook off of Blogspot and onto my own domain. Not only did she talk me into it, but Kate went above and beyond by helping to set up my template and teaching me how to use Moveable Type. Then, when my hosting company went bankrupt while I was in Afghanistan, Kate again went the extra mile, graciously taking me under her wing and into her then new hosting company, Venom Pages. Suffice to say, Kate has been a fabulous friend and a perfect hostess over the years.
Alas, the server that Venom Pages had been using was recently subjected to a series of corporate takeovers and Kate has decided to get out of the hosting business. I’m extremely grateful for all the help she has given me since March of 2003.
As many of you know, I also changed Sgt Hook’s template while I was in Afghanistan and switched to Wordpress. None of which I could possibly have done on my own. Lisa of E.Webscapes likewise went above and beyond, converting my blog software and designing the template I currently have today. Lisa has also answered several of my frantic cries for help when something went awry with WP that was way above my skill level to even think about fixing. And each time she fixed me up for just the promise of a cold beer should we ever meet.
Faced with looking for a new hosting company I immediately went to Lisa who just happens to be the owner, operator, and customer of Blogs About Hosting, a reputable and reliable web hosting company specializing in weblog support. I’m very pleased to have Sgt Hook hosted by Blogs About and highly recommend Lisa and the gang for all of your blog needs. I trust that you will be pleased as well, if not with the content, at least with the reliable service. Thanks again everyone. Sgt Hook out.
From reader Gypsy I received this bit of information…
WASHINGTON , D.C. – The U.S. House of Representatives today approved a resolution to designate an official day of recognition for the service of active-duty U.S. servicemen and women. Congressman Joe Knollenberg (R/MI-09) sponsored the measure on behalf of Alexandra McGregor, a sixteen year-old Waterford resident who originated the idea for this legislation.
“Our service men and women make enormous sacrifices to keep us safe and to protect our freedoms. They leave their homes and families, work in highly stressful and dangerous conditions, and ensure that all of us here at home are safe and secure. We need to honor these men and women and show them that Americans across the country are appreciative of their work and sacrifice,” Congressman Knollenberg said.
Currently, the U.S. officially honors the service of our veterans and those who’ve died for our country with designated national holidays. However, there is no official national day of recognition for active-duty troops.
Knollenberg’s resolution will designate March 26th, 2006 as ‘‘National Support the Troops Day.’’ The legislation states that “all Americans should participate in a moment of silence to reflect upon the service and sacrifice of members of the United States Armed Forces both at home and abroad.”
“With this resolution, it is my hope that our troops will know that the American people – from the 16 year girl in Waterford to the Members of the U.S. House of Representatives – are grateful for their service. Our country is at war and it is more important than ever to show our appreciation for our brave and dedicated men and women in uniform,” Congressman Knollenberg said.
Of course this is a nice gesture and I recognize Congressman Knollenberg’s efforts to show support for our men and women in service of this nation, but I can’t help but think this is more to make those on Capitol Hill feel better about themselves. Then again, it would be nice to see more emphasis placed on Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day instead of passing a resolution for Support the Troops Day.
To be honest, if Congress wants to sincerely show support for your Soldiers, Marines, Sailors, Airmen, and Coast Guardsmen, they can cease the political rhetoric and grandstanding in regards to the Global War on Terror and provide the funding our military needs to modernize while prosecuting the war. Hell, another pay raise for Jo is a great way to show support out of Washingtion.
For the average American, there is no better way to show support for your troops than to shake one’s hand, pat him/her on the back, and say, “thank you for your service” whenever the opportunity should arise. No need to wait for March 26th. When I flew home from Afghanistan, I had a layover in San Francisco of several hours. I can’t begin to describe how humbled I felt each time someone took a moment to say thanks, offer to pay for my coffee, buy me a beer, or the look on that little boy’s face as he stood staring at me dressed in my much traveled Desert Combat Uniform. Those feelings of pride and honor that I felt swell within my heart manifested from the thanks and support I received from complete strangers in that airport.
While I commend Congress’ intentions, and am glad focus is being placed on supporing the men and women in uniform, I really think there’s a better, more sincere way to show support for your troops. And for those who have shown and continue to show that support, I am eternally grateful. Sgt Hook out.
Matt of Black5 has started an interesting discussion that I thought I’d share my two cents worth. It begins with this letter sent to Matt from Major General Vernon B. Lewis (retired) regarding how veterans of your military services ought to render honors to the nation’s colors.
I gathered some 16 of my old military friends who agreed to sponsor a movement for Veterans to salute rather than place their hands over their heart when honoring the flag, fallen comrades, and/or the country. I have some from each of the four principal services. Three of them were former Vice Chiefs or Assistant Commandants of their services, and several were former CINC’s.
We refer to saluting when we do the pledge to the flag, when the National Colors pass or are presented, when the National Anthem or honors are played, or when taps are played and firing squads or guns render honors.
My initial reaction to the idea was negative. I’ve just always thought that rendering honors with a salute was reserved for those in uniform, but as I thought about it, I came to the conclusion that it actually is a great idea. Not because it is a right that our veterans have certainly earned, but because of what I think the impact such an act might have on our society.
As we endure comments, attitudes, and opinions from the likes of actor Richard Belzer regarding our men and women serving in uniform, I think its hight time we recognize just how important a role our veterans have played in preserving our way of life.
Just imagine thousands of fans salutiing at NFL, MBA, and Major League Baseball games when the National Anthem is plalyed. It will telegraph a message to all others of how many have served this country in the Armed Forces—it will be a positive and patroitic message.
Indeed, and imagine the math teacher or school principal saluting the flag at a high school football game. Imagine the local store owner, police officer, nurse, and lawyer rendering honors with a salute at little league games, local parades, and community activities. Imagine the powerful message we’d send to our neighbors, friends, and children when they discover just who has once served and protected their freedoms. I may be a bit off the mark, but I can’t think of a better way to show our children what role models really are; humble, proud, and dedicated role models.
I for one will forever render honors to our nation’s colors with the hand salute, regardless of what I’m wearing. What say you? Sgt Hook out.
This site is a collection of my writings, thoughts, and ramblings and in no way reflects the official positions of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. OPSEC trumps everything.
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In view of a recent tendency to identify characters in fiction with real people, it seems proper to state that there are no real people in this volume: both the characters and their names are ficticious. The names or designations of any military units are ficticious. There are no living people nor existing military units presented in this book.
-Ernest Hemingway
Halfway down the road to hell,
In a shady meadow green,
Are the souls of all dead troopers camped
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddler's Green.
-Author Unknown
The Blog of War
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