June 4th, 2021 By anvil

Warm Up 

Mosey to the lower parking lot 

SSH x20ic

Loose Change x10ic

Hillbillies x10ic

El Ab modified windmill stretch, x10 on your own

THANG

All on site at the AO, because your Q isn’t some kind of asshole. 

Rock Garden – Curls/overhead press/skull crushers x10 each

Shelter – WW2’s x10 

Pull Up Bars – pull-ups x5 

Marea – Squats x10

Entrance – Merkins x10

Repeat-o til you’re beat-o

3 sets of Block bench press x10, Block flutter kicks x10ic

Pride Stretches 

Gay pretzel

Touch your toes

Butterfly

Wiener down

Butt up 

Stand and be proud 

PRAYERS

Luthor’s family 

Anvil’s father-in-law

CVAN men for change challenge 

MOLESKIN

I decided to take an hour off from the golf course and wander out from the safety of the country club to slum it with the common folk  PAX, some of which are even from *shudder* Rowan County. Ew. 

In honor of Memorial Day this last Monday, I thought I would share a story with you guys for some context.

On any deployment longer than 6 months the Army tries to get all soldiers a 2 week rotation of R&R leave to go home and recharge. In October 2005 I had been in country for about a year without a break as I let all my men go first in case there wasn’t enough chances for us all to go. At the last minute we got one more spot and my commander made me take it because I really needed it. It had been a rough deployment and we had been through a lot. I didn’t know it myself at the time but I was battle weary and needed a rest to be a good leader before I lost myself or got somebody hurt. It was a great two weeks filled with about everything you’d think a 23 year old soldier would do with 2 weeks off, but it almost sucked because it was just long enough to remember what civilization is like and then you had to go get back in the shit. The trip back after R&R includes a civilian charter to Kuwait via Germany or Ireland, a brief stint in a holding tent with a bunch of other random dudes who are also coming or going on leave. Lot of smoking, dipping, and playing Texas Hold ‘Em and Spades with those random dudes while you wait for a C-130 to take you to Baghdad International Airport (BIAP) and then another holding area with more of the same while you wait for a Chinook to drop you as close as they could get you to your AO, and then hitch a Blackhawk back to my brigade FOB and from there grab a seat on a convoy back to my remote outpost where I lived with Bravo Company. That transient time takes about a week and gives you a little time to ease back into it and forget the world you left behind and get your head right to get back into the fight. 

In October 31, 2005 I rolled back into our brigade FOB with the trademark look of a guy just getting back from R&R – crisp and clean clothes, recently showered, fresh haircut, shave, and a this sucks look on my face. My roommate at that time was this guy named Robert Oneto-Sikorski (don’t even try it, everyone just called him “Ski”). He was a smooth talking cool customer from somewhere in Mississippi who was half Cajun. He was very even keeled and didn’t get worked up about much. Really had a Deertick vibe to him. He was XO of the next company over and he was covering my missions for me while I was gone. When I got back to our brigade FOB to convoy out to our outpost, my platoon picked up a mission. I wouldn’t say anything but they could all tell that I wasn’t ready and I was in no hurry to leave the comforts of a FOB and jump back in the shit that day. Think about your first Monday back at work after being on vacation, and multiply that crappy feeling by a million. So Ski was like “You’re still on leave today, take your time getting back and you can get to work tomorrow.” I asked ceremoniously if he was sure, just to be polite even though I was really thinking “Thank God” as I had one more day in a bed with a mattress and a chow hall with hot food.  

They left and I dropped my gear down in my little hooch and grabbed a cigarette with some of my boys and told them in great detail about titties seen and all the stuff that had changed back in the real world and then grabbed a nap while I waited for a convoy to bring me back to my outpost.

The next morning I hopped out of the back of a Humvee in the Bravo Company area of our outpost where I lived and the very first thing I heard was that Ski was killed by an IED on that mission. The platoon rolled up on something suspicious on their route and rather than go around it, blow it into outer space, call EOD, or send someone else out to clear it…he went to clear it himself. It turned out to be one of the new EFP IED’s that the Iranians and Russians had taught the insurgents about to use against us which was exponentially more devastating than the standard garden variety South African 155’s we’d adjusted to with our armor and tactics, and he was killed instantly on the spot. 

Every damn day I think about that shit. Why? Why him? Why not me? Was it my fault? Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. All the questions and guilt that you’d think. And at the end of the day the answer is that there is no why. Shit just happens the way it happens sometimes and there’s no reason for it. You’ve got to just make the best out of it. Be a light to other people. Be a good person, don’t be a dick. Make the world better, not worse. Help somebody else before you help yourself. Take care of the people you love, and do right by strangers even if they don’t do right by you. Each day is a gift, make sure you earn it. Make the decision to be happy. Find ways to enjoy life, even in the face of despair. Remember guys like Ski, but remember them fondly. 

1LT Robert Oneto-Sikorski, US Army, KIA in Iskandaria, Iraq on October 31, 2005 

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