16 June 2010

The Mayor of Faux FOB-istan


No one elected the Mayor of Camp Ripley, Minn., but he sure seems to think he can abuse the goodwill of the people he serves.

Many units are mustering at the National Guard base in order to support the training of approximately 3,000 troops of the 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry Division (2-34 B.C.T.) One of the ways they're helping is in logistics--issuing billets and barracks, feeding soldiers, moving and sorting large loads of ammunition.

The Mayor isn't technically part of the brigade. He's only helping the brigade.

Problem is, he seems to spend more time and effort on trying to put people in their places, than he does providing them places to live and work. Given a job that that would seem to require an attitude of servant leadership, he neither leads nor serves.

For example, the Mayor acts put out when tired soldiers drive up after a 12-hour convoy to ask where they're supposed to sleep and eat--"You're the third person to ask me that." He brusquely berates a young officer for asking for a key to her barracks--"you're only a SECOND lieutenant," he tells her, "I can't trust you." That same officer is tasked with securing our unit's most-secret workspaces. He puts off one visitor by saying, "Actually, I was going to chow now. Come back in an hour."

Rule No. 1 about customer service: It's about serving the customer. That's something for our unit should remember, given the possibility that our own logistics personnel will be performing similar missions in Afghanistan.

To top it all off, The Mayor bumbles around driving a rather easily identified personal vehicle--a yellow Camero that looks like something out of the Transformers movies. One can tell at great distances whether he's on the job or not. I've noticed soldiers of all ranks already avoiding the office when his car is parked outside.

I asked a buddy in a different unit about The Mayor. "You mean The Snake Charmer?"

It seems that The Mayor had been exploring various training sites on Camp Ripley, when he came across a snake in one of the small tin shacks soldiers sometimes use to sleep in. These are 20-by-20-feet structures, and almost look like goat or hog pens. Soldiers even call them that.

So, the Mayor finds a snake in one of the buildings, and tells the Camp Ripley staff to remove all the wildlife from the training site before he takes temporary possession of it.

When Camp Ripley employees respond, they find the snake right away.

It's a toy snake! It's a rubber snake!

Charming story, no?

4 comments:

  1. Try dealing with the FT. McCoy Civilian Employees! Just as if not worse then what you're saying! Since when do the soldiers work for the people running these camps and forts? I thought they were hired to support the troops?

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  2. I hate pogueRIMFAssholes like that. Does he have a combat patch? I bet not...if he does, I bet he was FOBBIT POS. Let me think...
    I think I'd order a case of rubber snakes. He'd find one on or in his car everyday, in his office, in his coffee pot, hanging on the door frame to his home...everywhere I could find a place.

    When he gets tired of that, order some bumper stickers...something like: "Gay Pride" or a rainbow...then put them on his rear bumper where he won't see them until he's driven around for awhile.
    Drive his sorry ass crazy. I've known too many useless self important assholes like that in the National Guard.
    In 1992 when Los Angles had the Rodney King riots...the assholes at Camp Roberts who were in charge of all the State's ammo went home at 5PM because that's when their day was over. The MPs had to buy their own friggen ammo for the riots.
    Take this guy out and gut shoot him now---that would be a public service.

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  3. I remember McCoy AT back in 89, bouncer (ex marine) busted my ass for washing off the magic marker X on my hand for trying to wash it off. Heh, I was a freshman in college at the time, still got blasted that night at the NCO club.

    Summer of 90 AT was at Ripley. I remember us dumbasses taking off the blank adapters, shoving empty blanks in the end of the barrel, and shooting them at the black bears that congregated around the mess hall scraps. Gawd, I was dumb back then.

    Last experience with Reserve AT there, I dropped out of college, switched to Active, and made it to Germany in fall of 90 just in time to make the buildup to Desert Storm.

    Great blog, keep it up!

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  4. It is said the the "snake charmer" has a camping trailer hidden down by river side of post round the 04 grid line rather than living with the proles in the cement barracks.

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