Poetry Book Review: 'Uniform' by Lisa Stice

Book Review: 'Uniform' by Lisa Stice

Lisa Stice is my favorite kind of war poet: One who interrogates differences among civilian, service member, and spouse. One who offers explanations, as well as explorations. One who constructs bridges with curiosity and compassion, but who remains clear-eyed and short-form in her engineering.

Stice is a U.S. Marine spouse. An equal partner in patriotism. A practical shield-maiden. In a poem titled "On Duty," she writes …

walk on your Marine's left side

the protected place
opposite the theoretical sword

you may hold his left hand
if he's not in uniform […]

be his shining medal
always faithful

to love all things holy
in this sacred institution

be respectful and kind
in your wooden fearlessness.

Reading her words, she's definitely someone want you'd want to have fighting on your side—if not in same foxhole, then at the same table at one of those insufferable military formal dinners. She's got a keen eye for observed detail and custom, a bayonet-sharp sense of snark, and a field-stripped ability with the written word and line break. I want to sit with her, near the punch bowl, and lob thought grenades into the night.

"I am married to the Marine Corps," Stice briefs in a one-page introduction to her poetry collection "Uniform," published earlier this year by Aldrich Press. "It's quite a different sort of marriage than the one with my husband, who was already a Marine when we married […]" She continues:

The Corps culture promotes silence and leaves little to no room for compromise. I understand that some silences are justified within the Corps, like not disclosing where and when my husband will deploy […] Other silences I do not understand. For Marines and their families, speaking up about frustrations is viewed as unsupportive and, sometimes, as unpatriotic. My husband can even face consequences for my speaking up.

I would like to begin the long-needed conversation …

Stice often experiments with something akin to erasure poetry, stringing together phrases not entirely unravelled from their original contexts. In a timely poem titled "Concerning Politics," for example, she collects threads of officious advice regarding acceptable Corps behaviors. Note how the breaks create poetry out of the prosaic, and how the last line lands with a boom:

[…] no campaigning for partisan candidates
no fundraising activities or canvasing
no service in clubs or speeches at gatherings
no uniforms when acting as spectator

partisan posters and signs should not
be visible to the public at your residence
take care not to post or link material
with opinions about public officials

but you may vote for whomever you choose.

In approximately 50 poems, three sections, and little more than 80 pages, Stice distills life on the home front of a military marriage before, during, and after deployment. Stice plays deftly with language and layered-meaning, and just as proficiently with sparse jargon and vocabulary. Her work is accessible and her impacts immediate. Her rounds are on target. These are poems that help illuminate what military life is like—without glorification, and with plenty of humor. Any one of her poems would be the start to a beautiful and useful conversation.

I leave you with a personal favorite, titled "Hush-a-Bye." Again, watch how she rocks the breaks. Again, listen for the (distant) boom:

26 miles away
Marines play drums:
missiles and mortars.
My heart,
my daughter's breath
our rocking
fall in with the
cadence—
at ease.

Re-run: The Arts of War and Parenting

The writer of the Red Bull Rising blog is currently on family vacation maneuvers at an undisclosed training area, somewhere in the Middle West. This re-post from August 2011 may or not be applicable:

The Iowa State Fair ended this past weekend. A couple of different days during the fair's 11-day run, Household-6, the kids, and I braved the heat, the crowds, the animals, the carnival rides, and the foods-on-a-stick. With Lena, now age 6, and Rain, age 4, we've moved beyond strollers and backpack kid-carriers. We travel more lightly now, if not exactly more efficiently.

In conducting our state fair maneuvers, I was repeatedly surprised how much Army techniques and tribal wisdom are applicable to parenting on the march:

• "No battle plan survives contact with your kids."

• Everyone in your squad should know the plan.

• Move in buddy teams. Always maintain visual contact.

• Conduct periodic tactical halts. Check buddies, equipment, supplies, and morale.

• Always brief a "lost soldier" plan.

• Always brief primary, alternate, and emergency means of communication.

• Identify rally points.

• Check fluid levels before, during, and after operation. Report all classes of leaks (I, II, and III) to a supervisor immediately.

• Know your pace count. Recognize your kids' pace count may be 4 or 5 times your own. Your fastest speed is that of the slowest member in your squad.

• "Strategy is for amateurs. Logistics is for parents."

• Basic combat load is one day's supply of water, wipes, cleanser, and clothes.

• Hasty decon is a squad-size operation which sustains the combat potential of a contaminated force by limiting spread of contamination.

• "This is my kid. There are many like him, but this one is mine."

• "I am responsible for everything my kid does and fails to do."

• "Never leave a kid behind."

And, finally, to paraphrase the ancient military philosopher Sun Tzu:

• "The supreme art of parenting is to subdue the enemy without fighting."

Sherpa's Ever-Lovin' List of 2013 Holiday Gift Ideas

Just in time for the annual economic warfare of Cyber Monday, here's a list of Sherpa's favorite gift recommendations for the 2013 holiday shopping season:

FOR THE YOUNGEST RECRUITS:

• Baby clothes. Military veteran and illustrator Aaron Provost was recently amused to find his "War Decor" series of T-shirts and wall art was also available as kids clothing. Consider the many possible interpretations of an "Embrace the Suck" onesie ... Genius!

*****

FOR TOMORROW'S DRONE AND MRAP DRIVERS ...

• Miniature MRAP vehicles. If your favorite Army communicator hasn't already separated themselves from the rest of the convoy with Too Many Antennas, try the bright-orange OshKosh M-ATV found in the 2013 Battle 5-Pack from Matchbox. (Orange is the branch color of the U.S. Army Signal Corps!) Also included in the pack are: a 1998 Jeep Wrangler; an olive-drab 1957 GMC Stepside Pickup; a lemony Humvee with TOW-missile launcher; and a futuristic-looking "Armored Response Vehicle." Available separately as a single toy, look for a 2013 International MXT in desert tan. For Red Bull Rising reviews of previous years' Matchbox offerings, click here, here and here.

• Remotely piloted toys. Develop hand-and-eye coordination and military-applicable skills with the "Air Hogs" Bomb-Dropping Remote-Control helicopter or Battle Tracker Elite combo set. The latter even features a ground-based missile-firing anti-aircraft emplacement!

• Young-adult books written by a former "Red Bull." Author Trent Reedy's young-adult novel "Words in the Dust" is recently available in paperback. Inspired by Reedy's 2005 deployment to Afghanistan as an Iowa National Guard citizen-soldier, the book tells the story of a 13-year-old Afghan girl's struggles with injury and hardship. For ages 10 to 14. Also, although not available until late January 2014, book No. 1 of Reedy's "Divided We Fall" trilogy of thrillers contains citizen-soldier themes, and is certain to appeal to a wide range of young-adult readers.

*****

FOR 'RED BULL' HISTORY BUFFS ...

• A powerful all-ages comic book. "Journey of Heroes: The Story of 100th Inf. Bn. 442nd Regimental Combat Team" graphic novel by Stacey Hayashi and Damon Wong. The 30-page comic tells the stories of Japanese-American soldiers who enlisted to serve their country after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. The units fought as part of U.S. 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division in World War II Italy. Suitable for ages 10 and up. Read a Red Bull Rising review here.

• A "Red Bull" movie about war and memory. "Memorial Day" (2012) feature film on DVD and Blu-ray. The 2012 film tells a story of service that bridges generations, between World War II Europe and the Red Bull in Iraq. Rated R for some war violence. Read a Red Bull Rising review here.

• A true story of "Red Bull" resilience. Written by Jim Kosmo and John Kresel, "Still Standing: The Story of SSG John Kriesel" is an inspirational non-fiction story of an Iraq War veteran as he recovers from from his injuries. Read the Red Bull Rising review here.

*****

FOR READERS OF MILITARY FICTION, NON-FICTION, AND/OR POETRY ...

• An anthology (or two) of modern military literature. Published last month, "Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors, Vol. 2" is the second collection of military writing and art by veterans, service members, and supporters published by the Southeast Missouri State University Press. The first volume continues to be available as well. Each is a great survey of voices about military experiences, from World War II to present-day conflicts. Full disclosure, however: The writer of this blog has material that appears in each volume.

• A subscription to a quarterly sampler of new military writing. Published by the Veterans Writing Project, "O-Dark-Thirty" provides insights and inspirations for both readers and writers of military fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. Single issues are available for $10; a 4-issue subscriptions are $30; click here for details. For a Red Bull Rising review of previous issues, click here and here.

*****

FOR GROWN-UP MILITARY ENTHUSIASTS WHO STILL READ COMIC BOOKS ...

• A new comic book about combat-camera soldiers. The first issue of the "Tilt-Shift: The Quiet Profession" comic book is now available as digital-only publication via ComiXology. Written by Jose Torres, penciled by Josh Hood, inked by Michael Babinski, colored by Michael Spicer, and lettered by Thomas Mauer. For a 13-page preview of the issue on Facebook, click here.

• An R-rated Nick Fury war comic. Published by Marvel Comics, "Fury MAX" is an adults-only update to the iconic Nick Fury character of the 1960s and '70s. Available in trade paperback (Volume 1 and Volume 2) or digital monthlies on ComiXology here.

• A realistic covert-ops title. Published by Image Comics, "The Activity" is a realistic covert-ops team thriller in trade paperback. Available in trade paperback (Volume 1 and Volume 2) or digital on Comixology. Notably, Volume 2 contains a story regarding a terrorist attack on Minneapolis—that's "Red Bull" Division territory!

*****

FOR SUBSCRIBERS TO 'BETTER HOOTCHES AND GARDENS' ...

• Military art ... or a hand-grenade throw pillow. As mentioned above, military veteran and illustrator Aron Provost offers an affordable line of military art prints, as well as separate line of "War Decor" inspirational sayings. Want to start an interior design insurrection? Try an "Embrace the Suck" or hand-grenade throw pillow!

• A tactical stocking. From Fight and Flight Tactical, this tricked-out over-sized footgear is perfect for hanging by the Range Control fireplace with care. It includes enough hook-and-loop tape, elastic cords, and load-carrying loops for plenty of holiday chemlights and candy canes.

• A wall calendar ... or two! An official 2014 "Doctrine Man!!" or "Schlock Mercenary" cartoon calendar will demonstrate your sense of humor, if not your combat proficiency or good taste. Each artist specializes in pithy observations and military-themed maxims. Get a calendar from each: One for home and one for work!

*****

FOR STRATEGIC PLANNERS AND NEVER-SAY-DIE WAR-GAMERS ...

• A provocative coffee mug. From the military movers and thinkers at the Doctrine Man!! web comic, a "Planning Fundamentals" and/or "Clausewitz Bros. Coffee" mug will increase the average IQ of any military staff meeting. At least, that's what the staff thinks.

• Mil-themed stategy mags. A subscription to "Modern War" magazine by Decision Games' Strategy and Tactics Press, or "Armchair General" magazine. Each features historical and speculative scenarios for war-gaming.

• A counterinsurgency-themed game. At $78, the Afghanistan-focused "A Distant Plain" from GMT Games is probably a little expensive for casual would-be nation-builders, but that itself might be an appropriate lesson-learned, too. For 1 to 4 players. For reviews of the game, click here and here.

A Class Act on Veterans Day

The past week has been a busy one. Helping to organize, publicize, and perform in "Telling: Des Moines" has taken a lot of personal brain-power and bandwidth. Remembering old times, while furiously memorizing my lines. To top it all off, I've been eating poorly, and sleeping worse.

Against that backdrop, on Friday, my kids surprised me with a 3x2-foot "Veterans Day Card," made of poster board, signed by all the children in each of their respective grade-school classes.

Best. Veterans Day. Ever.

'What is Memorial Day Even For?'

Scene: Waiting for take-out pizza on a hot Sunday afternoon. The Sherpa kids are in the back seat.

Lena, age 7: "What is Memorial Day even for?"

Me: "It's for remembering anyone who has died who has also served our country in uniform—all the soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen."

Lena: "Like Nathan's dad?"

Me (surprised): "Yes ... Like Nathan's dad."

Poetry Contest for Minnesota Mil-Kids

The office of U.S. Sen. Al Franken, (D-Minn.), a former writer and performer on "Saturday Night Live," has announced a creative way to celebrate April as both Military Child Month and National Poetry Month.

(In addition to being the cruelest month, April 2012 may mark an early return of some of the 2,700 citizen-soldiers of the Minnesota's 1st Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. At least, that's what some news reports have begun to indicate.)

According to a press release, Franken is hosting a poetry contest on a theme of “My experiences as a Military Child.” Children of military families from Minnesota are encouraged to enter poems of not longer than 300 words. Deadline is April 16.

Entries should include the following information:

• Name of entrant
• Parent/guardian name
• Postal address
• Telephone number
• Name of entrant's school
• Age category (Kindergarten to 6th grade; 7th to 9th grade; or 10th through 12th grade)

The entries will be judged on relevance to theme, creativity, judges' impressions, fluency, structure, and technical excellence.

Ten winners in each category will receive an invitation to Franken’s St. Paul office to meet him, his wife Frannie, and special guest judges including:

• Minnesota Commissioner of Veterans Affairs Larry Shellito
• Minnesota Poet Laureate Joyce Sutphen
• Adjutant General of the Minnesota National Guard, Maj. Gen. Rick Nash
• Minnesota Commissioner of Education Brenda Cassellius
• Minnesota author Kao Kalia Yang
• Minnesota Lynx Coach Cheryl Reeve

The top poems in each age category will be framed and displayed in Franken’s office in Saint Paul, Minn. and in Washington, D.C. Each winner will also receive an autographed book by Garrison Keillor, famed Minnesota author and host of the radio program “A Prairie Home Companion."

For more information, see the press release here. Submit entries to:

poetry@franken.senate.gov

or to:

Office of U.S. Sen. Al Franken
c/o ‘Poetry Contest’
60 Plato Blvd., Suite 220
Saint Paul, Minn. 55107

The Arts of War and Parenting

The 2011 Iowa State Fair ended yesterday. A couple of different days during the fair's 11-day run, Household-6, the kids, and I braved the heat, the crowds, the animals, the carnival rides, and the foods-on-a-stick. With Lena, now age 6, and Rain, age 4, we've moved beyond strollers and backpack kid-carriers. We travel more lightly now, if not exactly more efficiently.

In conducting our state fair maneuvers, I was repeatedly surprised how much Army techniques and tribal wisdom are applicable to parenting on the march:

• "No battle plan survives contact with your kids."

• Everyone in your squad should know the plan.

• Move in buddy teams. Always maintain visual contact.

• Conduct periodic tactical halts. Check buddies, equipment, supplies, and morale.

• Always brief a "lost soldier" plan.

• Always brief primary, alternate, and emergency means of communication.

• Identify rally points.

• Check fluid levels before, during, and after operation. Report all classes of leaks (I, II, and III) to a supervisor immediately.

• Know your pace count. Recognize your kids' pace count may be 4 or 5 times your own. Your fastest speed is that of the slowest member in your squad.

• "Strategy is for amateurs. Logistics is for parents."

• Basic combat load is one day's supply of water, wipes, cleanser, and clothes.

• Hasty decon is a squad-size operation which sustains the combat potential of a contaminated force by limiting spread of contamination.

• "This is my kid. There are many like him, but this one is mine."

• "I am responsible for everything my kid does and fails to do."

• "Never leave a kid behind."

And, finally, to paraphrase the ancient military philosopher Sun Tzu:

• "The supreme art of parenting is to subdue the enemy without fighting."

Polly's Dad Got Shooted

"Polly's Dad was in the Army, and he got shooted," Lena says casually from the backseat. I've just picked the kids up from school. Household-6 is going out with a friend tonight, and I'm in charge of pick-up and dinner. It is a bitterly cold and windy day, the roads are still slick from a day-and-a-half of snowfall, and the last of the day's light hangs in the air like icicles.

Lena's words are sometimes like that, too--just solid enough to grab and hold. Touch them wrong, however, and they'll shatter. I move the car forward, cautiously.

First rule of working in the Tactical Operations Center ("TOC"): "The first report is always wrong. Except when it isn't."

My family lives in a small suburb of what the local TV anchors like to call the Des Moines "metro." (By the way, it's locally pronounced "duh-MOY-en." The "s" is silent. So is the other one.) More than 550,000 people live in the 5-county area.

There are more than 3,000 National Guard soldiers--most from the Midwest, and most from Iowa--currently deployed to Afghanistan with the 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. If they were all put together in the same place, they'd rival the size of some towns that still dot the agri-industrialized landscape of 21st century Iowa, enclaves of good people and simpler times.

There is no active-duty Army post in the state of Iowa, however, and there is no single geographic concentration of units, families, and training areas that the Red Bull calls home. There is no commissary, or daycare, or post exchange (P.X.) to which everyone goes. There are no dry cleaners, tattoo parlors, package liquor and pay-day loan shops located just outside the main gate.

The largest single military activity in the state is Camp Dodge, in the Des Moines suburb of Johnston.

The state of Iowa is itself like a small town, however. If you don't know somebody, you might know somebody who does. Even if we don't all wear the same uniform, or live and work in the same places.

So when my kindergartner starts casually talking about soldiers and shooting, I go into a parental form of tactical questioning: "Really, when did this happen? ... Why did she tell you that? ... Was she laughing or crying when she said that? ... What is Polly's last name?"

Driving home, trying to figure out what my 6-year-old is thinking or saying, other potential connections are also simultaneously popping up on my mental dashboard. Some of it is signal, most of it is noise:

• A Red Bull soldier was recently injured by an Improvised Explosive Device (I.E.D.) in Laghman Province. I ask myself: Is there a connection?

• Earlier this week, a member of a Missouri National Guard's Agri-Business Development Team (A.D.T.) was killed by an IED in Nangahar Province. That's not the Iowa ADT, nor is it Red Bull territory, but is there a connection?

• Lena has recently been invited to a "military" themed birthday party at a local museum. The birthday boy chose the theme in honor of his Navy veteran dad, who last year committed suicide with a gun. I don't know whether his actions were service-related, and it really doesn't matter. I do know that, while picking up my kids in warmer times, I experienced this boy's little sister announcing to me, to her playground friends, to anyone she encountered: "My daddy shot himself. He's with Jesus now." Is there a connection?

I'm not just spinning my mental wheels for kicks-and-giggles, of course. I'm attempting to figure out if my daughter is upset, or making unwanted or unnecessary associations. After all, I know she still thinks of Daddy as "being in the Army," we obviously have family friends currently in harm's way, and she seems to me overly attentive to TV pictures of tanks and soldiers on those rare occasions they infiltrate our family room. "Daddy, is that show about death?"

Naturally, I also want to know if Polly and her family is somehow in distress.

Of course, it could all be fairy tales and pixie dust. I remember the story-telling games of my own youth, with each kid one-upping each other until we were each descended from astronauts, famous inventors, and Presidents of the United States. And I remember the illogical results of any game of "telephone," in which a given narrative melts and mutates over the course of many re-tellings. It's fun at parties, but maddening to unravel as a parent.

All this is on my mind as I drive down the road, maintaining speed and distance. If there is something to the story, I don't want to react or overreact. I don't want to telegraph my background concerns about the health and welfare of 3,000 of my fellow Midwesterners into spooking the kids. I don't want to drive into a ditch, and I don't want to break the icicle.

Because the first report is always wrong. Except when it isn't.

Making Connections: Events, Terrain, Media, Families

Next week, I plan to return to working through my notes from the 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division's (2-34th BCT) pre-Afghan training rotation at Fort Irwin, Calif. In the present-day, however, there are a number of recent media reports worthy of note.

As many of you are aware, the Red Bull has been on the move. Some units launched directly into Afghanistan from California. Others returned temporarily to the mobilization station of Camp Shelby, Miss. According to previously published press reports, all 2-34th BCT units are expected to be in country by the upcoming U.S. Thanksgiving holiday.

According to the Nov. 11 Des Moines Register, the soldiers of Iowa's 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry "Ironman" Regiment (1/133rd Inf.) have hit the ground running in Afghanistan's Laghman Province. During a recent patrol to meet a local Afghan leader, Ironman soldiers engaged insurgent forces and captured one Taliban leader. The engagement included use of mortar fire and close-air support ("CAS," pronounced "kaz"). Guess all that training in the Mojave paid off.

It's important to remember that political and military conditions can vary greatly even between one Afghan valley and the next, much less between one province and another. In other words, don't read too much into adjacencies.

However, Laghman does share a short border with Kunar Province--the location of Iowa's 734th Agribusiness Development Team (734th A.D.T.)--the "Dirt Warriors." Kunar is also the general location of the 2007 events depicted in the documentary "Restrepo," which is to be released on DVD next month, as well as the books "War" and "Infidel." If you're looking at pictures from any of these sources, MAYBE you're looking at similar conditions, peoples, and terrain to that of Laghman.

Not all the Red Bulls are heading straight into a fight, however. Supporting October comments by the commander of 101st Airborne Division, the commander of Vermont's 86th Brigade Combat Team (86th B.C.T.) indicated that conditions in three other eastern Afghan provinces--Parwan, Panjshir, and Bamiyan--are secure enough to potentially warrant transition to Afghan control.

The 86th BCT, "Task Force Wolverine," is currently transitioning these provinces to the 2-34th BCT, "Task Force Red Bull."

According to a National Guard Bureau press release earlier this week:

"In Panjshir, they just opened up a marble mine factory that is really providing a lot of revenue as well as jobs for the locals," [Col. William Roy, commander 86th BCT] said. Tourism signs are beginning to pop up in Bamyan, he added. The future of Afghanistan lies in small business, Roy said.

"When I was here in 2002, when you went from Kabul to Bagram, there was virtually nothing on the road," he told reporters. "Now, in about an hour-long drive, you get the development all the way along -- businesses growing up, gas stations on the side of the road."

Afghanistan's ability to self-govern is moving slowly, but steadily, Roy said, noting that Bamyan has Afghanistan's only female governor, representing the Hazara population. Panjshir's ministry of agriculture put together a budget, sent it to the central government and received the budget back to put in place in the province, he added. [...]

"The governors that we have in all three of our provinces understand what the requirements are to oversee the needs of the people," Roy said.

"It's the Afghans who are leading the way," he added. "And it's been that way for quite some time."

In related news, the Burlington (Vermont) Free Press reported Wednesday that Roy had indicated "security for two of the provinces under the responsibility of Task Force Wolverine — Panjshir and Bamyan — was turned over to Afghan forces in the past month, a sign of stability in the region. Parwan province, where Bagram Airfield is based, should follow suit soon."

Other connections to be made:

Cedar Rapids, Iowa's KCRG-TV9/The Gazette multimedia reporting team has added an RSS feed to its continued "Operation Enduring Freedom" blog coverage of the 2-34th BCT's mobilization and deployment. If you use a news reader, you know how useful this is for keeping up on the latest.

The KCRG-TV9 team also recently aired two additional reports regarding the Red Bull's training and subsequently deployment from California. Check them out here and here. Consider that your Fort Irwin fix for the day.

Des Moines-area WHO-TV13 has continued its coverage of the Red Bull homefront with its "Iowans at War" series, including stories regarding how families are coping with separations caused by the deployment.

While Steve Hartkopf has been deployed, his wife Sophie Hartkopf has given birth to their first child. (Both Steve and Sophie, by the way, are Iowa National Guard soldiers.) The baby now rocks to sleep to the recorded sounds of Steve's electric guitar.

In other recent "Iowans at War" story, Christine Refsland musters three kids everyday while husband Nik is deployed. The kids try to help each other out where they can, but it's controlled chaos. "My daughters are twelve, eight and four, all going on 16," Nik says in the report.

Text and video at links, above. The amount of helpful, insightful, and friendly media attention being focused on our Red Bull soldiers and families is gratifying. Please check it out when you get a chance.

Breaking Fast

Sometimes, I skip breakfast chow so that I can lay in my rack and think about my wife.

I still get up at 0515 hours, grab a shower, put on the Army pants. But then I re-set my alarm and cast myself adrift in my sleeping bag for a few blissful minutes, while the other guys are still shuffling off to the shower. If I'm lucky, in my post-Revelie reverie, I get a chance to enjoy a few appropriately inappropriate daydreams about my wife. Happy, cuddily, non-Army-type thoughts.

It's worth going hungry for.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love breakfast. Some of the boldest schemes in which I have ever participated have been hatched over eggs and sausage and biscuits and coffee--lots and lots of coffee. And words. And friends. Back when we were young and planning to rule the world, we used to call them "Big Idea Breakfasts." They were grand.

Breakfast, like they say, is the most important part of the day.

It was in partial celebration of this outlook that inspired Household-6 and I to host a brunch reception on our wedding day. (Although every time she recounts the tale, the hour she allegedly had to wake up to get married gets earlier and earlier. Still, it's a great story.)

Fast-forward back here to the military life: Army breakfasts are usually pretty good, if unimaginative and repetitive and unimaginative. Typically, only the meat changes: bacon one day, sausage the next, ham the next, until the menu rotation starts again.

There's always potatoes in some form, and sometimes another starch. I started eating grits in the Army halfway through my Basic Training, because there's only so much you and Uncle Sam can do with a potato. Grits, on the other hand? There are a thousand ways you can doctor grits: butter, salt, jam, cheese--you name it. Even a Midwestern Yankee like me can't screw them up too bad.

Here at Camp Ripley, the contractor providing meals (in the new Army, our cooks rarely get a chance to actually prepare meals) provides jalapeno peppers with nearly every meal--breakfast and dinner. So add a side of jalapenos to the list of Things Sherpa Enjoys While in Uniform but Not So Much Anytime Else: Grits, Country-Western music, and second-hand smoke.

Jalapenos and grits? I'd like to try that some time, but Minnesota ain't exactly grits country, apparently.

In a couple of days, I'll be back home in Iowa for a few weeks. The kids will be with the grandparents a few days prior to Independence Day, and Household-6 and I may actually have a chance to dreamily ease into a few mornings together--just like old times--rather than adhere to our usual "3-year-old drill sergeant" routine.

I plan to wake up when I want to. I plan to lay there, between sheets and wakefulness, counting my blessings with every breath. I will think how much I love my wife and my life. I will think of my kids.

And, eventually, I will think of what to have for breakfast.

What Every Soldier's Family Should Know About Facebook

When I started the Red Bull Rising blog in December 2009, I was partly motivated to explore Internet-based tools such as blogging and Facebook, so that I could better inform and advise my citizen-soldier peers about their use. Like most soldiers of a certain age, I'm inherently distrustful of any communications technology that: (A) doesn't seem to serve an immediate purpose; (B) seems likely to leak operational secrets; and (C) is--now more than ever--designed to store and sell users' private information for marketing purposes.

Nearly 5 months later, I realize that Facebook presents a risk more to my family's security than to my unit's military security. In other words, it's more likely that my family will be hurt by information posted on Facebook while I'm deployed, than it is that my fellow soldiers and I might reveal military secrets on Facebook (although that apparently happens in the real-world, too).

And, no, it's not because some faceless marketing mogul might learn what kind of dog food we buy. Before I get to that, however, let me lead off with ...

SHERPA'S FACEBOOK RULE NO. 1: There's no law that you have to use Facebook. While many people won't follow this advice, the best way to protect information is not to participate at all. Don't even turn it on. Step away from the Internet.

Even Facebook's own vice president for public policy has said, "If you're not comfortable sharing, don't." That's good advice, even if you do opt to use Facebook. Just be vigilant to the idea that seemingly innocent information can be twisted and used against you.

Don't believe me? Read on ...

In April, family members of the Vermont Army National Guard's 86th Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), a unit currently deployed to Afghanistan, received phone calls falsely indicating their loved ones had been killed or injured. Even when family members are likely to figure out that such a call is someone's sick, sick joke--the military does not notify next-of-kin by phone--such hoaxes cause nothing but distress, pain, and hurt. Just imagine receiving such a call in the middle of the night. It'd be horrifying.

Here's an excerpt of the April 22 National Guard Bureau news release about the Vermont hoaxes:

“Be careful of social media,” [Air National Guard Lt. Col Lloyd Goodrow, Vermont National Guard state public affairs officer] said. “There are people out there who read what you post, and not all of them are as kind and gentle, or as caring about your Soldier like you are.

“All of our families are deeply proud of what their Soldier is doing, but just be careful about what you put out there.”

Family members should get the phone number of the caller through *69 if they have that ability, he said. The second thing to do is for the family to notify a military organization like their family readiness group and the local police.

“Understand that if your Soldier is injured in Afghanistan, or anywhere in the world, you will not be notified by a phone call unless it is from your Soldier or a friend of the Soldier,” he said.

SHERPA'S FACEBOOK RULE NO. 2: Don't post anything that pranksters, hoaxters, and domestic terrorists--that's what Lt. Col. Goodrow called them, by the way--can use against you and your family.

It's not just terrorists, either. It could be the media.

Once, before the Internet, I wrote obituaries for a living. That was before you could just use Google to instantly pop-up answers to a hundred unasked questions about someone who had just died. If I were doing that job now, I wouldn't even have to call real people. I'd just check out their Facebook pages, write about what was posted there. Maybe I'd e-mail their friends, to see if I could get some easy comments.

SHERPA'S FACEBOOK RULE NO. 3: Don't make it so easy for my friends in the media. Guard private information. Keep it private, particularly for those painful moments you and your family might really need the privacy.

If you and your spouse have publicly accessible Facebook profiles, you may wish to remove all mentions of his or her deployment, unit, and military job. If you have not already limited access to your Facebook profiles to friends and family--and, yes, Facebook does NOT make using its privacy settings easy to use or understand--you may also wish to do that as well.

If you wouldn't be comfortable publishing something on the front pages of the New York Times, the Des Moines Register, and/or the Omaha World-Herald--your birthday, your wedding anniversary, your phone number, your address, the fact that your spouse is gone for 12 months, that your children go to this-and-that elementary school--don't post it on Facebook.

What's the big deal, particularly about kids? Well, if someone knows your name, and your kids' names, and their grandparents' names, and when they were born, and where they go to school--well, I betcha classroom bullies, strangers-with-candy, and other evil people would just love the opportunity to lure them into compromising positions, or to deal out some serious emotional harm. Just imagine: "Hey, Billy, is your dad dead yet?"

Don't think that can't happen. And don't think that doesn't happen, either.

And, not to put too fine a point on it, but as a potential last act on this earth, I will also make darned sure that any photo that accompanies the news of my unfortunate death won't be one that's been grabbed from the Internet, especially one that shows me drinking a beer while wearing a tutu-based "unicorn-hunter" uniform at some random "Come as Your Favorite Constitutional Amendment" party. That's not particularly how I wish to be remembered, and the Internet never forgets.

SHERPA'S FACEBOOK RULE NO. 4: If you wouldn't want your Mom to see the pictures, or have them lovingly displayed at your funeral, don't post them on Facebook.

********

BONUS SECOND-OPINION FROM KNOWLEDGEABLE PEOPLE:

The June 2010 issue of Consumer Reports magazine suggests these "7 Things to Stop Doing Now on Facebook":

1. Using a weak password.
2. Leaving your full birth date in your profile.
3. Overlooking useful privacy controls.
4. Posting your child's name in a caption.
5. Mentioning that you'll be away from home.
6. Letting search engines find you.
7. Permitting youngsters to use Facebook unsupervised.

Present ... or Accounted For

A couple of years ago, when Household-6 and I were considering having another child, I was having a hard time getting out of my own head. For a while, I couldn't see or hear a kid--any kid, including my own precious little girl--without somehow also instantly adding up all the potential money, effort, and parental heartache that child represented--past, present, and future. I tied myself into mental knots, worrying about everything from sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) to paying for school. I was ... well, let's just say I wasn't exactly the happiest Sherpa around.

Jeff W. has been a good and constant friend for years. I'd go so far as to call him my best friend, especially since he went and married my other best friend.

Together, Jeff and I have heard the chimes at midnight. He's the guy with whom I discovered the joys of single-barrel bourbon, and dark-roasted Kenya AA coffee bean, and blasting loud music out of open windows on cool spring days. Well into our forties, we still play video games together. The retirement home we end up in had better have a jumbo TV and an X-box.

Jeff's advice has steadily gotten more sage (and less mixed with alcohol) over the years, perhaps due to the charcoal-filtered good influence of his wife. They're good people, and--although they'd probably balk at me saying this--good role models.

One weekend visit--we don't live in the same city anymore--Jeff offered these simple words of advice:

"Remember to be present for your family."

Somehow, that line allowed me to short-circuit the psychological loopback I'd worked myself into. "Be present." In other words, if you're with your kids, be with your kids. If you're with your wife, be with your wife. Don't dwell upon the unknowable, and steadfastly and straight-forwardly regard the knowable. Deal with facts, not speculations. Forget what you don't know, and be in the now.

Mindfulness and presence are constant themes in military life. At unit formations, our platoon sergeants report "all present or accounted for"--everyone is is his or her place. Nearly every briefing includes a discussion of safety--how to be mindful of the risks that have been identified. As soldiers, we are constantly reminded to look out for our buddies; to pay attention to how we are executing our assigned tasks; to react to conditions on the ground as we find them, not as we assume them to be.

Household-6 and I are struggling to keep things moving as we prepare our family for deployment. There are so many distractions: Kids, wife, household maintenance, Army training, writing a blog, legal matters and finances. Household-6's mom and dad took the kids this weekend, so we could focus on getting some Spring Cleaning done around the house. The gift of their time also allowed us a rare opportunity to be present just for each other--hanging out (kids-free!) at the local diner; talking about hopes, fears, and plans; reading the Sunday paper. It was just like old times, like it was before the (usually happy) chaos and confusions and constant distractions of parenthood.

If I cannot achieve constant balance in life, at least I am learning to point myself in the right direction. I can be "present." Or, at least, "accounted for."

Jeff's a Protestant Christian by faith, but I've come to think of him as a little bit Buddhist as well. The funny thing is, Buddha Jeff may not even realize how he changed my life with the gift of a few friendly words. He may not even remember it.

Still, it was quite the present.

Boots and the Jogging of Memory

When I was just a little Sherpa, I would help my dad spit-shine his black Air Force flight boots. I remember pouring a little water into the metal lid of the wax--the Air Force, after all, doesn't spit. I remember the smell of the polish, and how the oily black would seep through the old white T-shirts that we used to apply the paste, staining my fingers. I remember buffing the boots with a brush, the two-stroke rhythm lightly tap-tapping, tap-tapping. Not too hard. First across the heel, then the toe.

When I got boots of my own, I recreated the ritual. It didn't matter the time or place: dorm, barracks, apartment or house, all I had to do was break out the Kiwi-brand boot black and part of me would be back with Dad, in front of the TV, polishing his boots, trying not to get any black on the carpet.

First the heel, then the toe.

I got home today a bit of a muddy wreck. A lot of the headquarters company personnel--both enlisted and officers--are training and testing a significant number of their pre-deployment individual "warrior tasks" this week. These are basic skills that every soldier must know. Yesterday, it was death-by-PowerPoint stuff in the classroom: Subjects like suicide-prevention and sexual harassment awareness. Today, it was outside. It rained most of last night, and early this morning. The storms broke, however, just as we were shuttled by bus out into the training areas, all hard and beetle-plump in our Kevlar helmets and body armor.

Springtime in Iowa quickly turned sunny and muggy, and we welcomed the coolness that exuded the tomb-like cinderblock "houses" from which we were attempting to root out OPFOR insurgents. We breathed the musty air in deeply. We were sweating from the adrenaline, not to mention bounding up to the building while wearing body armor. "Smell that?" said Trooper, once we got inside, "You can almost taste the Hantavirus."

I managed to find the only still-active mud puddle as four of us stacked along the wall outside one of the buildings. The OPFOR ("opposition force") on the popped a machine gun out a second-story window. He couldn't get the angle. I hit the deck, then rolled and slithered even closer to the exterior wall. Seconds later, I followed Trooper through the door.

On a different mission this afternoon, Trooper and I were running toward a building when small arms fire erupted to our front. We were in the open, and trusted our teammates to lay suppressive fires as we continued toward the objective. I squeezed off a few unaimed shots myself. In doing so, I missed the fact that the rolling ground underneath my feet suddenly dipped downward. Observers later complimented me on my "combat roll." I was glad they didn't call it something else, and that no one was carrying a video camera.

(Later, I quipped that I'd tripped on a contour line. That's a map-reading joke--one my navigator father might appreciate.)

Got muddy on that little downhill trip, too. And grass-stained. And sore. My right forearm--the same one I've been nursing a case of carpal tunnel in--has swelled up like Popeye as I write this. Might be a conversation piece tomorrow, when we do similar training.

Household-6 and the kids arrived home just as I was pulling my car into the driveway, too. The now-dried moon-mud on my knee pads and trousers, boots and protective mask case would have to come off before I stepped into the house. I invited my two-and-a-half-old son, Rain, to sit on the front porch with me. From the garage, I retrieved two stiff-bristled fingernail brushes that I use for driving the dirt off my rough-and-buff desert boots. One for me, one for Rain. What came next surprised me, as clouds of dust billowed around us, and dirty crusts fell off my equipment ...

First the heel, then the toe.

The Kids are All Right

Just a quick anecdote today. Archer and I were talking over lunch one day, and I was sharing my concerns about potentially leaving 5-year-old Lena and nearly 3-year-old Rain for a year in Afghanistan. Archer and I are about the same age, but I started the family thing later in life than he. He's got a couple of teenage boys.

Archer tells me not to freak out too much, then hits me with some additional perspective. "The thing that gets me about teenagers," Archer says, "is that they've become their own people. I'll not only be leaving them as my kids, I'll be leaving them as my friends."

There's an oft-quoted war-chestnut that "soldiers don't go to war for their countries, they fight for their buddies." I don't envy Archer's dilemma, and I'm glad I don't yet have to walk in his boots.