tactical blueberry

final countdown

Well, we’re getting there. In four days and a wake-up I’ll hit the road for the big drive north — 25 hours of I-95, 2 overnight rest-stops, and 3 planned exits to fill up on gas and vittles at Sheetz, whose made-to-order burgerz on a pretzel roll absolutely rock my world.

Aside from spending too much time on Sheetz’s website, what else does one do in their final days of absolute freedom, you ask? Well, label socks and underwear, for one. In preparation for OCS, I’ve had the privilege of expending a ridiculous amount of time, energy, and dollars on the most basic of basics. Also, permanent fabric markers. It’s like a crazy cross between getting ready for overnight summer camp and for back-to-school. You’re welcome, Hanes & Sharpie. Drink it up.

Other special end-of-days activities: sitting by the pool, sitting on the beach, eating lots of dessert, a little bit of extra “gouge” memorization, and trying desperately to get used to waking up well before dawn.

I’ve also gotten a few letters from a friend currently at OCS, just six weeks ahead of me. Everything seems to be going according to plan for him, which is about the best news I can hope for. It tells me that I’m about as prepared as I can be (if he didn’t hit unexpected snags due to lack of preparation, it’s reasonable that I won’t either, since we did a bunch of preparation in tandem), and that takes a little pressure off. It’ll be what it’ll be, and it’ll probably be fine. Also, he said the food was great, so bonus there.

pumped

So, I’m totally pumped. In five days and a wake-up, I’m going to walk into the Hyattsville office where, 11 months ago, I first met my Officer Recruiter. I’m going to raise my hand, and swear to support and defend the Constitution. I’m going to sign my name to a piece of paper (DD-0004) that says I’m no longer a civilian, but am instead a member of the Armed Forces of the United States, subject to the regulations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ).

And I’m so pumped. I really can’t stop smiling. I’m driving around town with my arm out the window, soaking up the incredible Florida February sunshine, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

Thirty days after I enlist, I’m going to roll up to the sea wall at Naval Station Newport, and start OCS. Ninety days later, God-willing, I’ll raise my hand one more time, swear a new oath, and become a commissioned officer. Incredible.

It’s been a long 11 months, and I can already tell that this last month of waiting is going to lead to some serious restless leg syndrome (not clinically, of course). I’m trying to avoid the urge to start packing (because then what would I do in 3 weeks, when it’s actually time to start packing??), and also trying to avoid the urge to double up my gym time to pass the time, because I know that would only lead to overtraining and injury.

Time to clean the house, clearly..

travel day

I’m sitting here at DCA after a six-day whirlwind Washington adventure, reflecting on the week. First, it was great to see so many people after two and a half months of relative seclusion in Florida. You folks (you know who you are) are incredible people doing amazing things, and I’m so proud to count you as friends.

Now, the week started with an afternoon at the Surface Navy Association’s annual symposium. They’ve convened the conference now 23 times, to bring interested parties (sailors, defense contractors, the media, etc.) together to talk about the issues our nation’s surface fleet is facing. I sadly missed the first two days, but I got to hear a Major General (USMC) talk about expeditionary warfare, and I listened intently to a rousing presentation by a Navy Vice Admiral about the FY11-12 budget.

My biggest takeaways? That I’m doing a damned good job reading the Navy Times (there was little said that I hadn’t already seen in print) and that the whole “Death by PowerPoint” thing is real. I couldn’t help but wonder: when people of my generation (who I think understand the special capabilities and best practices of PowerPoint) are wearing stars, will that change? And moreover, would it ever be worthwhile to provide formal training to officers in how to give a presentation? As it stands now, rising to a position of power in the military never demands of someone to learn the skill. As junior personnel, you obey orders and accept responsibility without “excuses.” As senior personnel, you issue orders without necessarily needing to explain them. The consequence? Perhaps a hampered ability to coherently present an argument, or to structure an explanation in a way that draws attention to key points, or that takes the form of a compelling narrative.

After the speeches though, and then wandering around the exhibition hall (where I picked up some great defense contractor chum), a friend and I sat down with a kind Lieutenant. For more than an hour we chatted and absorbed all the advice he would share. It wasn’t my first such encounter — I had talked with a handful of officers before making the decision to apply to OCS. And in every case (and this was no exception), I was blown away by the friendliness and openness that these officers demonstrated. Never underestimate the power of a strong alumni network!

enlistment

Lots of sailors choose creative venues for their re-enlistment ceremonies, but this one’s hard to top: Breaking the sound barrier in the back seat of an F/A-18 Hornet, five miles above the Atlantic Ocean.

The pilot, Cmdr. Mitchell Conover, administered the oath midflight and even gave [Aviation Machinist’s Mate 3rd Class Alfonso] Tulavillanueva a surprise as he recited the final words, pulling back on the stick and putting the aircraft into a climb.

Now that’s the way to swear an oath.

I’ll be taking care of mine at some point in March, it looks like, in a ceremony much less dramatic. Just me and the folks from the recruiting office up in Hyattsville, MD.

Last week, I received my “final select” letter, which indicated my first day at OCS will be SUN 3 APR 2011, 97 days from today. I can officially enlist once my orders are cut, which apparently takes some time, hence the March ceremony. I’ll keep you posted, though.

In the next 97 days, I’ll be ratcheting up my PT routine — adding runs back in (it’s been a few months), as well as some targeted strength and muscle endurance exercises for the things I know are popular with the Drill Instructors at OCS — push-ups, planks, sit-ups, flutter-kicks, etc.

It’s a relief to have that deadline looming. The countdown is extraordinary motivation to crawl out of bed on cold(-ish) mornings, and reminds me to push myself to complete that one last rep. And it makes every moment a little brighter — I guess that might sound trite or contrived, but it’s true. In just a few weeks I’ll become the property of my country, and I’d be damned if I didn’t squeeze every last moment of joy out of the days I’ve got left as a free citizen.

the great green fleet

Thomas Friedman’s latest column in the Times shines a welcome spotlight on the Navy’s two-year-old push to “go green” in a big way — including having set a lofty goal of having 50% of all the Department of the Navy’s operations, afloat and ashore, powered by alternative energy by 2020.

The underlying thesis is simple — Congress can’t keep itself from buckling under the pressure of Big Oil and Dirty Coal, but the DoD, (with SECNAV leading the charge,) must do everything that can literally save lives, including going green:

Their efforts are based in part on a recent study from 2007 data that found that the U.S. military loses one person, killed or wounded, for every 24 fuel convoys it runs in Afghanistan.

SECNAV has plans in the works to put to sea an entire 13-ship carrier battle group wherein every component member is powered by cleaner energies — nuclear power and 50-50 biofuel blends. Even the air wings would be flying biofuels. This “Great Green Fleet” should be getting in gear by 2012 and fully combat operational by 2016 — and the progress made already, including a successful super-sonic biofuel flight and a handful of surface ships in various phases of production and testing, is keeping spectators impressed by the effort.

A green fleet could fly and drive further on the same tank of fuel, increasing combat effectiveness through the bigger operational range, saving taxpayers millions in fuel costs, all while keeping those deadly fuel convoys to a minimum.

It’s a program of scientific innovation driven by solid leadership and allowed the resources to be successful — and with NASA’s shuttle program trickling to a halt, it’s probably among our military’s most inspiring and forward-thinking campaigns.

veterans’ day reflections

I’d always been a fan of Veterans’ Day.  It made me feel lucky to live in America and proud of our fighting forces, past and present.  I’d metaphorically tip my hat to their service and whimsically consider the awe of their sacrifices.

But this morning I woke up to a text message from a friend — it had occurred to her that this time next year, I’ll be a “veteran” — at least as far as this holiday’s definition is concerned.  Later, another friend posted to Facebook, naming me among her acquaintances in the military.

I’m certainly glad for my friends’ warm regards today, but at the same time, this line of thinking has colored the day strangely for me.  With just a foot in the door of military life, I’m perhaps more conscious than ever of not wearing the uniform.  The obvious rejoinder is a seemingly-simple “yet,” but it’s an important word.

Standing here, mere months from wearing butter bars on my collar, I’m in every way a civilian.  To meet a former officer or enlisted man humbles and confuses me.  I find myself stumbling quietly between expressions of thanks and those of camaraderie, the latter of which I haven’t yet earned the right to put to words.

In the Sailor’s Creed, it’s said so matter-of-fact-ly: “I represent the fighting spirit of the Navy, and those who have gone before me to defend freedom and democracy around the world.”  Today’s sailors are sworn to represent the sailors who came before them, to fight with the spirit with which they fought, to carry out that tradition of excellence that gives rise to the child’s easy reverence for the flag and for those who protect her.

And as I read the tales of the great naval leaders of history, and as I read in the Navy Times every day the heroisms of today’s sailors and marines of every rank and rating, I can’t help but wonder at my own narcissism, to think that one day, with my country’s training and my own instinct, that I’d be even half the leader they were, and are.

At any rate, I just haven’t the right words to express the clutter of emotions that comes from acknowledging that the path in front of me today will soon rightly enough create that effect in others which I’ve felt myself for those in uniform.  So on this Veterans’ Day, my very last as a “non-prior,” I thank wholeheartedly the men and women who have served this country as members of the armed forces, and their families.  You’ve inspired me to follow in your footsteps, and I pray only that in time, I will represent you well.