Build Your Own 'Spring Break on FOB Sherpa' Kit!

As part of EXERCISE SPRING BREAK 2016, Task Force Sherpa recently conducted convoy ops into the heart of AO RED BULL, vicinity Mall of America (M.O.A.), Bloomington, Minn., conducting resupply at FOB IKEA and FOB LEGOSTORE. Via a village kiosk, we discovered an additional target of opportunity in the BRICKMANIA store, and quickly moved to exploit.

Headquartered in Minneapolis, Brickmania produces military-themed kits and items that are compatible with the popular Lego brand of plastic construction blocks. Under the BrickArms sub-brand, Brickmania offerings include a wide range of weapons, helmets, tactical vests, and other military equipment for Lego-style mini-figures.

The kids and I spent a few hours—and (ahem) a little money—figuring out the components to a Charlie Sherpa mini-fig. They were already somewhat familiar with my stories from Afghanistan: Media embed rules stipulated that I couldn't wear camouflage in country, so I couldn't use my old uniforms. Two of my shirts were slate blue; one was olive green. (I did laundry out of a 5-gallon bucket every couple of days.) My bulletproof vest was solid "coyote" brown. Using a stencil, I wrote "press" on the front of my light green helmet.

Here's what we came up with at Brickmania store. To make your own Charlie Sherpa, you'll need:

• Modern Combat Helmet (M.C.H.), Dark Tan

• Male head with glasses

• U.S. Dungarees Torso (aka "U.S. Navy Seabees" shirt)

• Plate Carrier Vest (P.C.V.), Specialist, Dark Tan

• Pants with cargo pockets, Light Tan

• Lego camera and coffee mug borrowed from kids' previously purchased Lego sets

We also assembled and purchased a U.S. media escort soldier mini-fig. Originally, we were going to make her look like Sgt. 1st Class Ashlee Katz, the Public Affairs NCO from my media embed with 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division in Afghanistan, May-June 2011. Instead, he ended up looking a little like Spc. Slim Cheery, a Red Bull videographer that I hung out with for a few days on FOB Mehtar Lam.

While Brickmania does make decals for Multicam uniforms, the kids and I opted to issue the mini-fig soldier some pre-made Universal Camouflage Pattern pieces, a three-color desert helmet, and some rockin' eye-protection. He also got a Plate Carrier Vest with a walkie-talkie pocket, and an M-16 with grenade launcher. Because the real Slim didn't have enough to carry, if I recall, what with the video camera and all. He was also assigned as a grenadier.

After determining that Brickmania does not (not yet, anyway) offer a Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected ("M-RAP") truck kit, I successfully resisted the urge to drive away with a Humvee kit instead. I might have to go back for an Ultra-Light Tactical Vehicle, however, given that we drove Gators around Bagram.

Finally, at the the Mall of America's Lego store, the kids and I picked up a beige baseplate, and enough tan and brown bricks to make a passible hootch. We made ours a little battle-damaged, and used the brown bricks to make T-walls. Next time, we'll use dark or light gray for the blast-barriers. My daughter installed a Lego "boom box" stereo she repurposed from another playset—because troops gotta have their tunes. She also planted some Lego flowers. We further accessorized with a Brickmania footlocker we'd purchased.

Now, FOB Sherpa is always just a few clicks away!

Review: 'Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors' 4

A rule of thumb, in both newsrooms and Tactical Operations Centers, is that "two times is a coincidence, but three times is a trend." Four times? Four times must make something an institution.

Now in its fourth consecutive volume, and published annually on or near Veterans Day, the military-writing anthology series "Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors" is arguably the high-point of the 12-month veterans-lit calendar. In partnership with the Missouri Humanities Council, the series is published by Southeast Missouri State University Press, Cape Girardeau, Mo. Comprising short fiction, non-fiction essays, interviews, and photography generated by or about military service members, veterans, and families, no other book publishing effort so regularly portrays the scope and depth of U.S. military experiences.

World War II is here. Korea and Vietnam are here. Iraq and Afghanistan are here. The home front is here.

The Navy is here. The Army is here. The Marines are here. The Air Force is here.

The memories of 80-year-old veterans are here. The words of a high-schooler from Gilman, Iowa are here.

It's all here. Every year.

In reading across the most recent edition's 270 pages, one is struck by the chorus of voices. One hears harmonies in times and places. One hears differences in experiences, but never dissonances. In short, the book seems to embody the sentiment: "Everybody has their own war; no one has to fight it alone."

Keeping with the choral metaphor for a moment, the solo performances are stand-out. Each issue features a winner and two honorable mentions in five categories: fiction, essay, interview, poetry, and photography. (Disclosure: The writer of the Red Bull Rising blog was a runner-up in this year's poetry category.)

For example, photography winner Jay Harden's image, "Planning for Peace," graces the cover of the book. Harden was a B-52 navigator on 63 missions over Vietnam.

This year's fiction contest winner, Christopher Lyke, weaves a braided narrative of loss and return and fighting against—or maybe for—the routine. A former infantry soldier, Lyke is a Chicago-area writer, musician, and teacher. He is also the co-editor of the literary journal "Line of Advance." You can hear the Chicago in his prose, in story titled "No Travel Returns":

He woke up and ran the dog and showered. He dressed and woke up the kids. This kept happening. Then he made breakfast for the kids and woke up his wife. This happened every day, too. He made it happen, this routine.

Essay category winner David Chrisinger delivers a profile of U.S. Marine Brett Foley, an Afghan War veteran. Chrisinger, a lecturer at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point, interviews Foley and Foley's wife, and grounds the resulting conversation in grief theory. Chrisinger is the son of a Vietnam-era veteran, and the grandson of a World War II veteran. He teaches a student-veteran reintegration course on campus, and counts Foley as his best friend. The resulting exploration is, then, both personal and professional:

What helped to increase Brett's resilience and help him move toward a productive and purposeful life was talking about his trauma and remembering the good men he served with. Only then could he move on. And even though he never discovered the complete and final truth of his experiences—no one ever really can—Brett did create meaning out of them by organizing his memories and creating a coherent narrative. […]

In the winning poem, titled "nights," Navy officer Nicholas J. Watts writes an hypnotic, rhythm-infused ode to sleep and memory:

nights
I visit dark places
where war still rages
and I didn't fight
like I should have
where whiskey flows
from plastic jugs into Salvation Army cups
to be cast away
like dead children from suicide bombs
or Talib cattle shot for sport […]

Such exemplars are indicative of the qualities to be found throughout the book. In a poem titled "TBI" (which stands for "Traumatic Brain Injury"), VA nurse Susan K. Spindler delivers a punch to the gut with lines such as:

[…] A brain weights three to four pounds.
It floats in a fluid that protects it.
You floated in me once, Josh.
I gave up pot and booze and moved
us far away from the man that was half of you.
I thought you would be safe. […]

In a war story titled "How I Almost Lost the War for the U.S.A.," Korean War veteran and former U.S. Marine George Fischer tells a hilarious and harrowing tale. He was driving a WWII-era amphibious truck called a "Duck," one laden with ammunition destined for the front, when he ran over a long-haul communications cable presumably used by much-higher headquarters. The Duck gets stuck. He walks over to a nearby artillery unit, to radio for assistance:

While I waited for that wrecker, the 155 guncrew listened on the phone to announce the next target. Some of the crew asked me how the hell did I get to this howitzer emplacement. I pointed to where my truck rested in the dark across the meadow at the road. They were amazed and astonished as they told me that field I had walked on was thoroughly mined.

In her introduction to this year's volume, series publisher Susan Swartwout describes some of her lessons, taken from four years of compiling, editing, and producing "Proud to Be":

Just a few of the things I've learned include that some veterans carry their stories inside and won't speak their war burdens to friends and family—but they will write them to the world when the have a place and invitation to do so. […]

I've learned that a veteran's coming home to loved ones and civilian life can be yet another battle with its own version of firestorm. […]

And I've learned that many veterans and military personnel have an awesome sense of humor, brilliant with word play and pranks.

Sherpatude No. 26: "Humor is a combat multiplier …" And thank goodness for it. World War II veteran Bill McKenna was an infantryman with the U.S. 24th Infantry Division in the Philippines, when his buddy took off, suffering from the "G.I.'s" (gastrointestinal distress). A Filipino leading a squad of Moro tribesmen happen upon McKenna. After a wary stand-off, they mention in passing to McKenna the recent death of the U.S. President:

For every G.I. in a far-off battle zone, it's great to hear from home—a letter from Mom, Sis, or Sweetheart. But today I got news delivered first-hand to me on a Philippine jungle road. Not the usual way to hear the news, I suppose, but damn, it was exciting.

Later, I learn that the news of the Roosevelt's death was delayed for troop morale considerations.

Where else are you going to hear a story like that? Who else but a veteran would be the one to tell it?

*****

For information on the 2016 military-writing contest and anthology, click here.

A Facebook page for the project is here.

A St. Louis-area book launch event is planned for 1 to 4 p.m., Sat., Dec. 19, 2015. The event is free and open to the public. Information here.

Sherpa Just Bought Himself an MRAP Truck!

Charlie Sherpa poses in 'Kilroy defilade' with his new MRAP truck.

Sherpa just bought a new vehicle! And, rather than the Boss 302 Mustang about which he fantasized while in Panjshir Province—it's a happy, hulking MRAP truck! Or, rather, it's a portrait of one, rendered in pencil by artist and illustrator Aaron Provost.

On the Red Bull Rising blog, I've previously mentioned Provost's work here and here. He's an Iraq War veteran, Navy spouse, and a talented and funny guy.

As readers of the blog may have also detected over the years, I seem to have grown increasingly obsessed with MRAP trucks. I have, for example, stashed a personal cache of Matchbox-brand MRAP toys around the office. (Other links about Sherpa's war toy chest here and here.)

At my Des Moines barber shop, I recently found
the same May 2011 issue of Road & Track
I originally read at the 'Bull Pen' at FOB Lion,
Panjshir Province. Obviously, the Boss 302 and I
were meant to someday be together. Call it karma.

The recent acquisition of Provost's work, however, marks my first foray into fine art. And it was much more affordable than the real thing. Or even a Mustang.

In my opinion, the Mine-Resistant, Ambush-Protected truck is the signature ground vehicle—or rather, the signature family of ground vehicles—of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. They were designed to protected Improvised Explosive Devices (I.E.D.)—the signature enemy weapons of those wars. With V-shaped hulls to deflect undercarriage blasts up and away from the occupants, the vehicles are both top-heavy and very heavy. The most dangerous spot in an MRAP vehicle is probably the gunner's, who sits in a turret atop the truck, exposed to bullets, blasts, and rollovers.

Priced at more than $500,000 each, the 14- to 30-ton MRAP trucks mostly did what they were supposed to do: Save American and allied lives, whatever the cost. In a counterinsurgency effort, however—winning over a population with lots of handshakes and smiles—armored protection becomes problematic. After all, it's hard to win hearts and make eye contact through bullet-proof glass.

That said, I am a little distressed to find that many MRAP trucks are following the troops home to the United States. The Des Moines (Iowa) Register's Kyle Munson reports, for example, that seven Iowa communities—including Washington, Iowa (pop. 7,266)—have taken delivery of "free" war-surplus MRAP trucks.

Beyond the potential hidden costs and safety hazards of MRAP ownership and maintenance, I'm not sure I like what that says about the over-militarization of law enforcement in the United States. You can't be "Officer Friendly" in an MRAP. I'm not saying police don't need tactical equipment and training, but does Smalltown, Iowa really need bomb-proof trucks to serve and protect its citizens? Heck, does any Iowa town?

If they wanted one so badly, maybe city leaders should have just bought a nice picture of one.

That's what I did.

*****

For artist Aaron Provost's business Facebook page, click here.

For an on-line shop featuring his original artwork—including helos and Howitzers—click here. If you see something that he's done elsewhere that isn't listed here, he says, make sure to zap him a message!

He also takes commissions, including one recently executed for Treadswift Tactical, LLC. Provost's illustration "Recon On" (which I think should be alternately titled "OP Yorick") is available as a signed and numbered print here.

His military-themed and other commercial illustration work can be found here and here.

Toymaker Releases Oshkosh M-ATV 'Jungle Truck'

Being a parent and uncle to a couple of grade-schoolers, I make regular patrols through toy stores, monitoring trends and prices, and maintaining a target list of potential birthday and holiday presents. Between Key Leader Engagements (K.L.E.) with Ken and Barbie, I also keep eyes out for new superhero gear and die-cast cars. I'm like a one-man Toy Terrain Team (T.T.T.).

It's not all fun and games. The toys we make and buy for our children are part of our national narrative. When new military tools and technologies show up in miniature on our toy department shelves—Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (U.A.V.), for example, or bomb-proof trucks—it says as much about our society's present-day values as it does our military tactics. To repurpose the old Army truism about training: "We play like we fight, and fight like we play."

Toys are also likely points of entry to conversations with children about war and service. "Your dad used to ride in that kind of truck when he was in the Army," I've heard myself saying, or "Your papa used to fly in a plane like that when he was in the Air Force ..." Afghanistan and Vietnam are big abstractions, but toys can help young heads and hands understand some of the basics. Even if the only lesson they walk away with for now is "Dad was in the Army, Papa was in the Air Force."

Matchbox has recently released a 1:64-scale version of the Oshkosh M-A.T.V. The word is an acronym within an acronym. Unpacked, it means "Mine-Resistant Ambush-Protected All-Terrain Vehicle." The real-world vehicle is manufactured by Oshkosh Corp., Oshkosh, Wis.

See also these previous blog-posts: "The Arsenal of Fun and Freedom"
and "The Boys Get More Toys"

The M-ATV is my probably second-favorite Mine-Resistant Ambush-Protected ("M-RAP") truck in the U.S. Army inventory. I've spent more time in the MaxxPro, manufactured by Navistar International. That's probably because the M-ATV design seats four, while the MaxxPro seats up to seven. Like some sort of military-grade mini-van, it's easier to throw the kids, embedded journalists, and other strap-hangers in the back of a MaxxPro.

By comparison, the M-ATV is a sedan. It's hard to see out from the back seats, too, which makes it less fun for us rubber-neckers.

The 2012 Matchbox version of the M-ATV comes in dark forest green with a billboard-high graphic "M-ATV" decal on each side: Hip-hop camouflage for hot-rodding through the bomb-ridden swamp. It also appears to be "licensed" design, which means the toy's manufacturers have permission to make the scaled-down version look like the real thing.

It's part of the Matchbox "Jungle" series, which includes a "Jungle Crawler,""Jeep Willys," and "Land Rover Defender 100." If you're traveling through marshy terrain, each of these other vehicles is probably more survivable than the 27.5-ton M-ATV.

The M-ATV is lighter and more maneuverable than other M-RAP variants, after all, but it's not going to float. It's going to sink like a plate-armored rock.

According to the packaging, rather than protecting occupants from Improved Explosive Devices (I.E.D.), the toy version is more likely intended to keep the crocodiles at bay:

You've got to be extra tough to survive the Jungle! These off-road and 4WD vehicles are built to handle the most hostile terrain imaginable. Rugged safety vehicles scramble through the dense foliage protecting passengers from the fierce wildlife and extreme conditions!

At least the exterior paint job is arguably military in nature. In 2011, the first Matchbox versions of a Matchbox "SWAT Truck," apparently inspired by the MaxxPro silhouette, were first available in either black-and-white or powder-blue law-enforcement livery. No camouflage in sight. The MaxxPro-like design also appeared later in fire-engine red, as part of an Matchbox "MBX Airport" series.

I still say: If you need an M-RAP truck to carry your baggage, you're flying out of the wrong airports.

Some of the doubt and debate about U.S. military acquisitions strategy involves whether or not M-RAP trucks were good investments. Some people argue that M-RAP trucks may or may not have saved lives. Or that they pushed troops into a hunkered-and-bunkered mindset that was contrary to counterinsurgency ("COIN") and advise-and-assist practices. In terms of sharing risks and hardships, or developing face-to-face relationships, after all, it's hard to get Afghan civilians and soldiers to take you seriously if you're sitting in a bomb-proof truck.

Still, no other U.S. weapon design better exemplifies my era's ground conflict in Afghanistan than the M-ATV. I may not be able to put an M-RAP in my garage, but I can sock one away in my war-toy chest.

In fact, I bought three. Because it's never too early to teach your kids about good convoy operations. It's a jungle out there.

Iowa 'Red Bull' Soldiers Practice Air-Assault Skills

By Staff Sgt. Chad Nelson
2nd Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division Public Affairs
Iowa Army National Guard

On a warm, late-summer day within the confines of the Camp Dodge Joint Maneuver Training Center near Des Moines, Iowa, three UH-60 "Black Hawk" helicopters repeatedly disappear below the tree line and just as quickly reappear with 600-pound boxes dangling from their bellies.

Iowa Army National Guard 

photo by Staff Sgt. Chad D. Nelson

The Black Hawks, piloted and staffed by the “assault company,” of Charlie Company, 2nd Battalion, 147th Aviation Battalion (2-147th Aviation), were flying in support of the “Red Bulls,” of the Iowa National Guard's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division’s (2-34th BCT) regular monthly training.

With the 2-34th BCT’s 2013 two weeks' of annual active-duty training still nine months away, this exercise is laying the groundwork for a large-scale operation spanning three locations across the Midwest: Camp Dodge, Iowa; Camp Ripley, Minn.; and Camp Gurnsey, Wyo.

The Red Bull units, having returned from Afghanistan in July and August 2011, have been in the "reset" phase of the Army force generation scheme ("ARFORGEN") cycle. The ARFORGEN model ensures that units are optimally ready for deployment every five years.

Reset allows soldiers who just returned from a deployment to return to and reconnect with their families, friends, and civilian employers. Soldiers also slowly return to their regular monthly drilling schedule. With the new fiscal year starting Oct. 1, 2012 however, the brigade will begin focusing on individual and small-unit skills. In later years, those skills will feed into operations involving larger-sized units.

The brigade’s recent exercise focused on the basic skills necessary to plan and conduct offensive operations using helicopter-borne "air assaults," said Lt. Col. Tim Sulzner, the brigade operations officer.

In March 2011, the 2-34th BCT conducted "Operation Bull Whip," the largest air-assault in Afghanistan in the 2010-2011 deployment cycle. Skills are perishable, however, particularly as soldiers promote and transfer to new positions within the 3,000-member brigade.

The recent training began at the top, with the company commanders and first sergeants from the brigade’s 36 companies earning validation in air-assault and sling-load operations.

“We incorporated every commander,” said Sulzner. “They may at some point become [operations officers at higher-level units, whether battalion or brigade] and they have to know how all this works.”

The S3, or "training and operations" section, is critical in large-scale operations such as this. Not only do they schedule and monitor training within their unit and subordinate units, they also plan and schedule major movements.

According to Lt. Col. Don Atchison, commander of the 1st Battalion, 168th Infantry Regiment (1-168th Inf.), headquartered in Council Bluffs, Iowa, there’s another valuable reason for providing this training first to the company leadership: “We need to validate our company leaders so they can go back and train their people,” he said. “We need to make sure they know what they’re doing.”

1st Sgt. Anthony Gibson, left, and Capt. Patrick 

Swartzendruber, the first sergeant and commander 

of Foxtrot Company, 334th Brigade Support Battalion,

run out of the rotor wash of a UH-60 "Black Hawk" helicopter

after attaching an external load. Iowa Army National Guard 

photo by Staff Sgt. Chad D. Nelson.

In the recent training, 72 commanders and first sergeants gathered to review brigade’s new live-fire procedures, developed squad mounted/dismounted live-fire lanes, and received instruction on plan air-assault training for their units. The latter included validation of "sling-load" skills: Rigging external loads to be hooked and transported by helicopter.

The soldiers operated two at a time, with one connecting the load and the other standing by to pull the first to safety in case of an emergency. “The leadership will have [noncommissioned officer and officer professional development classes] with their platoon leadership,” said Command Sgt. Maj. Willie L. Adams, senior enlisted leader for 2-34th BCT, and a Black Hawk sling-loader.

He said the platoon leaders would practice—with or without Black Hawks—until they’re confident enough to train their squad leaders themselves.

Motivation was high as soldiers ran to board the helicopters, sprinting away as the aircraft took off. “They did an outstanding job and these were really good events,” said Maj. James F. Avrams, Missouri Valley, Iowa, operations officer for 1-168th Inf.

“I thought that it was definitely a good opportunity to do some things that most of us haven’t done before. I think that it was really overall good training,” said Capt. Matthew Parrino, Urbandale, Iowa, commander of Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry (1-133rd Inf.).

Peace on Earth? Listen Through the Static

"What? They are still having WARS?!" asks my backseat conscience. Seven-year-old Lena sounds exasperated.

Mentally, I quickly tune in to the car radio. A Medal of Honor recipient is describing his actions in World War II: "My commanding officer asked me, as the last flamethrower operator that he had in his company, because the others had either been killed or wounded, if I thought I could do something about some of the pillboxes ..."

War can be a heck of a way to start the day. Especially if you're only in elementary school.

So far, it is a snowless winter in Iowa. Starting in darkness, my pre-writing routine involves troop transport: First daycare, then first-grade. During a short suburban commute to school, our days unwrap themselves in purple-gray light, then quickly warm to cornflower blue. Trees and houses on the horizon silhouette themselves like paper cutouts, back-lit in pink and apricot.

I have never been a morning person, but this is my favorite time of day. It is calm and peaceful, even with the radio on.

I remember dashing to weekend drills in the National Guard, waking up at oh-dark-thirty to speed along zippers of interstate highway, the sun rising to reveal the snow-dusted corn stubble rolling and rippling alongside my car. I'd have a stainless-steel bullet of scalding coffee in one hand, steering wheel in the other. Life was good.

Happiness is a 0700 first formation and a couple of hours to get there. Better still, an AM radio spouting sad tales and news of the world, country music stations bleeding into BBC World Service.

Bonus Sherpa tip: Bursts of static mean there's a thunderstorm on the way.

Army communications training taught me to mentally push past the white noise, and to sort and separate snippets of simultaneous conversation. Stations are always talking over and on top of each other, like it's a cocktail party. Or a Twitter feed. Get into the zone, and you can regulate the radio mentally into the background, until you hear something of interest. Like your callsign. Or your daughter.

As part of a family budget-cutting move, I recently cancelled the subscription for my car's satellite radio. That means no more commercial-free, kid-friendly tunes at the punch of a pre-set. Usually, I remember to turn off the radio while shuttling the kids around. That way, I can avoid topical potholes such as roadside bombs and robot planes, and people getting killed.

When I forget to turn the radio off, morning drive-time can become an exercise in addressing Lena's hard questions.

I try to answer honestly and simply. Lena knows that I used to be a soldier. And her classmates have friends and family who are still in uniform. Even though most every Red Bull soldier we know personally is back from Afghanistan (but not from Iraq), she's still quick to pick up on war-related news.

Like my Mama Sherpa would say, back when Sherpa was still in short pants: "Little cornstalks have big ears."

She wasn't kidding.

Recently, for example, Lena zeroed in on a report about burn-out rates of U.S. Air Force drone pilots. While such pilots are sitting safe in cockpits here in the states, they're also omnipresent witnesses to events downrange: Watch a guy for days or weeks. Establish his habits and routines. Then, if and when necessary, pull the trigger.

Imagine how jarring it would be to then be able to drive home as if nothing happened.

Physical distance can create emotional dissonance. Ask any radio operator who's been located the safe end of the conversation, while his buddies are in contact with the enemy. It can feel pretty impotent to be armed only with words.

"Why are they hurting?" Lena asks about the drone pilots.

"Because pilots are like soldiers. They don't like to hurt people. But, sometimes, they have to shoot their weapons."

"Why do they have to shoot people?"

"Sometimes, they have to shoot people--bad guys--in order to keep other people safe."

"How does shooting someone make us safer?"

Good question, kid. One that more of us probably need to ask, given the state of the world, and the sentiments of the Christmas season.

I'm conflicted. While I'd like Daddy's little warrior-princess to keep believing in Santa Claus and pixie dust, I'd also like her to keep asking the tough and critical questions. If Lena has to grow up--and Household-6 says that she will, regardless of my efforts--I'd like it to be in a world in which war is considered the exception, and not the rule.

Peace on Earth? Put your ears on. Listen through the static. Watch for the dawn. And consider the tough questions.

Especially if they come from your kids.

Red Bull in Iraq: 'Crossing the Finish Line'

As yet another American administration attempts to close a symbolic door on war in Iraq this month, the soldiers and families of the U.S. National Guard's 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division are, no doubt, waiting for the next boot to drop. They've sacrificed many months and miles, lost friends and family, to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. And many of them are still in the fight, regardless of speech or ceremony.

The 1st Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry Division (1-34th BCT) was there in 2007, during the "surge" in Iraq. Its extended 22-month Iraq deployment is the longest of any in the U.S. Army.

Now, the Red Bull is again present at the historic critical point, facilitating the drawdown from Iraq, as the 1-34th BCT moves and protects U.S. military personnel and equipment moving into Kuwait, currently deployed to Kuwait.

The following essay—"Crossing the finish line after eight long years"—was released through Army public affairs channels, after being written by a soldier traveling with Delta Company, 1st Combined Arms Battalion, 194th Armor Regiment (1-194th "CAB"). The 1-194th CAB is part of the 1-34th BCT.

The 1-34th BCT is anticipated to return to Minnesota in summer 2012.

For video and text coverage of convoy security mission conducted by the Red Bull's Alpha Company, 2nd Battalion, 135th Infantry (2-135th Inf.), click here.

*****

By Capt. Michael Lovas
1st Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry “Red Bull” Division
Minnesota Army National Guard

CAMP VIRGINIA, Kuwait, Nov. 11, 2011--The war in Iraq has most certainly been a marathon. As any distance runner knows, even though you finish the race and cross that line, you are not done yet. You need to catch your breath and reset before you leave the race area. Welcome to Camp Virginia, one of the bases in the Kuwaiti desert where soldiers and equipment come to catch their breath and await their flight home. While the fight continues in distant lands to our east, after eight long years, the guns here will soon fall silent and it will be all quiet on the western front.

Eight years of war has led to a large, well-established footprint by U.S. and coalition forces. A significant amount of equipment and resources that were moved into Iraq now needs to be moved out of Iraq. To accomplish the largest draw down of military personnel and equipment in nearly four decades, convoys are organized, gun truck escorts are spun up to provide security, routes are planned, and equipment is packed. Think of it as Uncle Sam's moving crew with an armed security force.

I rode along in one of the gun trucks, as part of the Convoy Escort Team (C.E.T.). This is a group of armored gun trucks in the Mine-Resistant Ambush-Protected ("M-RAP") family of vehicles, itself a product of eight years of war. The group I'm traveling with is Delta Company, 1-194th CAB, based in St. Cloud, Minn., and led by the CET Commander 1st Lt. Christopher Bingham, an armor officer from Sartell, Minn. This is their story:

We started on Nov. 13 at 10:30 a.m., having already received an intelligence and pre-mission briefing the night before. We arrive at the trucks to load our gear before moving to the weapons vault to draw our weapons for this week-long journey. The destination for this mission is Contingency Operating Location (C.O.L.) Warrior, a round-trip journey to Kirkuk, Iraq over 1,000 miles in distance. To get there we'll travel by Main Supply Route Tampa, a well established paved highway and one of the main highways through Iraq. We'll travel up through Kalsu, Taji, Saddam Hussein's hometown of Tikrit, before arriving in Kirkuk.

We began our journey by heading north to Camp Buehring to link up with the transportation battalion we'll be escorting, as well as the trucks contracted to assist with the draw-down driven by third country nationals. Known as "white trucks," these trucks are flatbed trailers used for hauling equipment, shipping containers or vehicles out of Iraq. Bingham described how working with TCN drivers can be challenging, "We have drivers from Pakistan, India, the Philippines, countries in Africa, so there's definitely a language and cultural difference. Having to work with them in the event of an emergency, whether it be a breakdown or altercation with the enemy, how they react is different every time and some of the things we've seen them do just kind of makes you scratch your head, they'll definitely keep you on your toes."

After nearly three hours at Camp Buehring, we headed up the road to Khabari Crossing, known as "K-Crossing" or "K-X." Khabari Crossing is the border crossing into Iraq where convoys are lined up and checked by both Kuwaiti and U.S. Navy customs going in and out of Iraq. As we pulled in we topped off our fuel as well as the spare fuel cans, known as Jerry Cans, we'd need to top off in Iraq during the journey between bases. With the draw down taking place, there are fewer places to stop for fuel, so you have to bring extra in case you are delayed reaching your destination. Once complete, the vehicles are lined up, checked, weapons mounted in the turrets, and a final coordination meeting held.

We go through the route, latest intelligence information, go over safety procedures and say a group prayer for protection before crossing into Iraq. We put our body armor on, weighing about 65 pounds. We don our Kevlar helmets, eye protection, flame retardant gloves, and strap in for the first leg in the long journey. To equate what this feels like, drive from Minneapolis to Chicago with a two year old child strapped to both your chest and back with a sack of potatoes on your head, and you can't take them off. After all is set, Bingham gives the command to move out. As wheels begin turning, he calls out the procedural security checklist, ending by confirming we are all buckled in with our NASCAR-style 5-point harness seat belts, playfully stating, "And the kids are tucked in."

At 5:30 p.m. we cross the border and enter Iraq, loading magazines of live ammunition into our individual weapons. Inside the truck you can hear the click of the magazine being seated in each of our weapons. You instantly recognize that this is not a training range back at Camp Ripley, Minn. with green inanimate pop-up targets, this is the real thing. Welcome to war.

Three hours later, we stopped on the side of MSR Tampa to conduct a "hot splash," adding fuel from Jerry cans with the truck running. Stopping in Iraq is full of concerns for possible threats. While we stop, our gunner, Cpl. Andrew Matthews, an infantry sniper from Elk River, Minn. is actively scanning in his turret, the truck crew's external eyes and ears. "I like it," he says. "I can see what's going on and if something happens I can handle it properly."

Fueling procedures entail holding the fuel can with one hand while keeping the other hand on your rifle. Once complete and back in the truck, we find out there is an issue with one of the white trucks, prompting what turns into an hour-and-a-half unexpected delay. The truck crew keeps the mood light and passes the time with conversations ranging in topics from Christmas music, to the best dining facility in Iraq (waffles made at Camp Adder was the winner), to sports and the upcoming Monday Night Football game featuring the Packers playing host to the Vikings, to the history of the area and current events.

Finally, at 3:00 a.m., we arrive at Forward Operating Base Kalsu. We are given a large tent with no working heat. On this cold desert night, we dress in layers and lay down on our cots. We're told the dining facility caught on fire the day prior, so we have to eat prepackaged military field rations called Meals Ready to Eat (M.R.E.). Delta Company's 1st Sgt. Dale Klitzke, a tank soldier from Woodbury, Minn., adds a surprising comment about the draw down: "I've had two deployments to Iraq, and this is the first time I've had to eat an MRE."

It's also a blackout base, meaning that to prevent sniper and mortar risks, no lights are turned on at night, causing everyone to travel with a flashlight to find their way. We stay at FOB Kalsu until 8:47 p.m. As we leave, we hear over the radio a convoy was hit by an Improvised Explosive Device (I.E.D.) with casualties on the road we will travel through in Baghdad. The level of alertness increases even more while our thoughts, and prayers, turn to those hit.

Driving through Baghdad means traffic, just like any large city in America. Unlike in America however, Iraqi drivers often decide they don't want to wait and will cross over into oncoming traffic, throw on their hazard flashers driving against traffic before crossing back over. We drive past bullet riddled street signs and mosques adorned with fluorescent lights, similar to those seen on casinos in Las Vegas. We sit in stopped traffic while the scene of the IED strike is cleared; carefully scanning all around our trucks for signs of what the crew dubs "shenanigans." It's serious business, and you can tell the camaraderie of this crew is strong.

From time to time, someone will make a radio call pointing out their observations; movement on the side of the road, vehicles approaching, and description of people seen in the area. Cars cross from the northbound lane we are in over to the southbound lane to travel against traffic while southbound trucks, cars, multiple High-Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicles ("Humvees") full of Iraqi army soldiers, even a scooter with two Iraqi soldiers on the back travel south, heading right at these impatient drivers as they try to navigate their way north, erratically dodging each other. Meanwhile an Iraqi policeman shines a green laser at drivers to get their attention while all this is taking place. We all just wait for what seems like an inevitable crash.

Tension is broken with comments of disbelief in what we are seeing on the road, "Imagine this happening during rush hour on 35-W (I-35W is a major Interstate highway in Minneapolis). We witness a near miss between a car trying to wedge its way between two southbound vehicles traveling in neighboring lanes, causing swerving all over the road to avoid a head-on collision. Someone keys the radio adding his commentary, "You just can't make this stuff up."

We reach Taji in the early morning hours, grab a bite to eat at the dining facility before bedding down in a barn-like heated structure where soldiers are gathered around a TV to watch the Green Bay Packers play the Minnesota Vikings on Monday Night Football. We leave Taji at 6:30 p.m., traveling through areas with young military-aged males standing around in groups while our gunners scan attentively in their turrets. They notice every detail, every person, and after traveling these roads multiple times, notice even when rocks and garbage are moved. We get word we have a friend upstairs, an Apache helicopter gunship is following us, providing a security blanket in the air. Suddenly, a white truck makes a wrong turn off the road causing the convoy to stop while a gun truck diverts to turn them around, another unexpected delay in travels.

Different areas of Iraq have different feelings towards the United States. Some are favorable, some are not. Tikrit, home to former dictator and president of Iraq Saddam Hussein, is the latter. We are greeted with an Iraqi Police checkpoint, one of many of these along MSR Tampa, and a sign written in both Arabic and English welcoming you to Tikrit City. It is calm, almost seeming too calm for 11:00 p.m. We continue to be attentive to our surroundings, relaying observations throughout the convoy. We drive past a riverside palace Saddam had in Tikrit, cross the Tigris River and drive through some sort of marketplace area. Suddenly, we are called to stop. A fist-sized rock has been thrown through a white truck's window, hitting the driver in the head and he needs medical attention.

Rock-throwing is regular threat. We are not talking about pebbles you skip across a calm lake on a warm summer day. These are usually big rocks, bricks, chunks of broken concrete or cinderblocks, varying anywhere in size from fist size to bowling ball size, or even larger. Calling it a rock is metaphorically like saying the Titanic bumped into an icy object in the night. Boulder tossing may more accurately describe this act. They are hurled at the white trucks in anger that the drivers are assisting Americans. They also know their rocks will do little if any damage to the armored behemoths we drive. Our combat medic sprang into action providing medical aid to the driver. As a young specialist, Tyler Sparks is a motivated soldier from St. Cloud, Minn., who loves his job and that he can help people in need. He assessed the situation and treated the driver for a cut that will need stitches at the medical facility at COL Warrior once we arrive a few hours later.

Two hours later we stop again, another white truck is having mechanical troubles in a very hilly area in this more-northern region. White trucks frequently break down because they are not well maintained, are often jerry-rigged in some fashion and regularly run on bald tires. Their standards are significantly different from U.S. standards. We have also now lost our air cover and we see lightning in the distance. At 3:07 a.m., we finally arrive at COL Warrior, but it takes 2 hours to finally get through the gate. There is a language barrier and confusion between us and the Ugandan TCNs contracted to secure the gate. Frustration builds as we sit waiting hungry, cold and tired; however knowing we are safely at COL Warrior helps ease the tension.

We park our trucks and head into the dining facility for breakfast. At 6:07 a.m. sirens suddenly sound, warning that incoming mortar fire was detected. Eight mortar rounds land in COL Warrior, one only about 300 meters away from the reinforced dining facility that we safely sat in waiting for the all clear to sound. Later we see explosive ordnance disposal clearing the mortar that landed near us.

Our convoy came to COL Warrior to haul equipment out of Iraq. With the shifting of the draw down timeline over the last few months while the US military presence in Iraq was discussed, adjustments to the plan to leave Iraq have been frequently made. This has led to confusion over what equipment to take, when to take it, and what equipment will simply be left behind and turned over to the Iraqis. Cost-analysis is conducted to determine what it would cost to haul items out and ship them elsewhere in the world, including the risk to soldiers' lives, rather than leaving it. But everyone is still amazed by the amount of stuff left behind. Only half of the white trucks and transportation trucks are loaded; there will be more to pick up as we travel south in Taji or Kalsu.

Information reports indicated enemy mortar attacks were likely in the morning; stemming from tribal disagreements. We are told senior U.S. commanders have recommended that anyone that can leave tonight do so, even going so far as to line up F-16 and F-18 planes to provide air support for those convoys that can head out the gate tonight. This information convinces us that we will need to leave COL Warrior earlier than expected, even though it means traveling through areas that are unfavorable to the U.S.

We decide to mitigate any additional risks by leaving quickly, at midnight, in order to avoid morning traffic in Tikrit. The leaders hastily assemble the best plan possible based on knowledge and experience. No one doubts the plan, confidence is high. Everyone is rolling tired, but there is no option for more sleep. Everyone is on high alert nonetheless, hoping for a calm drive, but not fully convinced we will have one. Welcome to life in a convoy escort team.

"I'm constantly war-gaming in my head how I'm going to maneuver my trucks and how we're going to react to any possible scenario that might come up‚" states Bingham. He is active on the radio, maintaining contact with his gun trucks and with the transportation unit we are escorting. Cpl. Matthews, our gunner, is actively scanning, checking every object on the side of the road, every bridge, relaying his observations. The other gunners do the same, sharing their observations over the radio.

The smell of burning tires fills the air. Tires are regularly burned in large batches and the smell is easily identifiable with how common the practice is. To our relief, we arrive at Taji at 6:55 a.m. after a calm, non-eventful drive. We clear our weapons and refuel our trucks. You always fuel your truck and prepare it in case you need to leave quickly or react to a situation. We sleep and prepare to leave later that evening.

As we get ready to leave we learn we would not be rolling out tonight and we turn around and head back to get some more rest. In the Army, change is constant, and soldiers constantly adapt and overcome, adjusting to always accomplish the mission. Soldiers start joking that as soon as we lay down we'll get word to leave tonight. It's almost like they experienced this before.

True to form, not 15 minutes into unloading the trucks, we get word to pack back up; a change in plans now has us pushing to FOB Kalsu tonight to pick up a load there instead. The soldiers look dejected, yet you could tell they saw this coming. Lt. Bingham comments, "We haven't had a hard [start] time yet, especially lately." This has led to frustrated soldiers and challenges in mission planning. But they are used to this by now and there is no time to dwell. What might have been is quickly forgotten about as attention is immediately turned to what needs to be done to prepare, and conversation shifts to other topics.

We don't have a time yet as to when we'll leave, but we sit waiting. Soldiers comment how the draw down seems very reactionary in nature; loads aren't prepared or fully allocated. The previously light-hearted and high-spirited mood faded quickly as fatigue sets in. Yet despite all of this, soldiers find humor stating that this is the Army and nothing new to them. One jokes, "This plan probably briefed well in a good-looking PowerPoint."

We finally leave Taji at 11:22 p.m. and get to FOB Kalsu three hours later. Seven convoys arrived at FOB Kalsu, so we sit at the gate waiting our turn to enter. We learn we will stay at FOB Kalsu for 24 hours. It is a nice extended rest that is needed by all. Some take advantage of the extra time and go to the gym ahead of the eight to ten hour drive back to K-Crossing. We leave at 3:54 a.m. traveling south, ready to be home.

Almost three hours later, a white-truck driver signals he has a breakdown. The third-country national (T.C.N.) drivers got out, looked at the truck, then almost in a pre-planned choreographed manner, they knelt down and began praying. We realized we were duped; the break down was a feint in order for the drivers to take a prayer break. Chuckling, we decide to make the most of the stop and conduct a hot splash.

Prayer time finishes, fueling is completed, and we begin to move again. We are within eye sight of the Ziggurat of Ur. Dating to the Biblical times of Abraham more than 4,000 years ago, the Ziggurat of Ur is one of the oldest buildings in the world still in existence. It is impressive to see, even in the distance. We finally reach K-Crossing at 11:08 a.m., Nov. 19, six full days after we left Camp Virginia. Days have run together, only separated by legs of the journey and timelines rather than what a calendar says the day is. We clear Navy Customs, refuel our trucks and leave for Camp Virginia 40 minutes after arriving at K-Crossing. The convoy will take the equipment we escorted to Camp Virginia or another base in Kuwait to await movement out of the region.

In a few days, these soldiers will do this process all over again, going to another base in Iraq, providing security for equipment leaving after eight years of war. "I really enjoy it," says Lt. Bingham. "It's always different when we go out, we're always stopping at a different base, meeting and working with a lot of different people when we go out. We've been all over the country of Iraq. It's never boring; it's never the same mission twice."

Along with the other Red Bull soldiers, Bignham has observed many changes during the draw-down process. "The bases have become very bare-bones. Before, the bases we'd stop at would have a fully functioning PX (Post Exchange, an on-base store), gym, eating establishments on the base, billeting was always guaranteed. But now when you go up, you never know where they are at in their closure period, whether hot meals are available, showers, so it forces us to be proactive in what we bring. We never used to have to bring cots or MREs, but now that's a staple we have to bring."

These soldiers have a front row seat in history, witnessing the biggest military draw-down since the end of the Vietnam War. Every day more soldiers and equipment cross the finish line, one step, one convoy closer to the end. After an eight-year marathon, soon it will be all quiet on the western front.

The Arsenal of Fun and Freedom

One of the great benefits of having younger children is the excuse to peruse the local toy shelves. AlphaDad's gotta maintain proficiency in the arms race happening out there in Superheroland and Barbiestan: Foam tomahawks. Gatling dart guns. Heroic helmets and warhammers. Playing war is a business, and business is good.

I love the smell of Nerf guns in the morning.

Like Sherpa at that age, 4-year-old Rain loves collecting miniature Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars. I'm man enough to admit that I have a few mint-on-card vehicles stashed away in Sherpa's Footlocker of Military Memories: A couple of soft-sided Humvees, in both desert tan and woodland green. Military bulldozers and armored personnel carriers. And a 1965 Shelby Cobra that Hot Wheels inexplicably and fantastically painted out in olive drab.

That must've made for a wicked-fast command car. Like "Patton" meets "The Fast and the Furious." (The resulting film of which would be called ... "TFATF: Messina Drift.")

Back when I was hanging out with combat engineers, I took a liking to a Transformers character called "Bonecrusher." I'd never really gotten into the cartoon from the 1980s, but the rebooted movie was cool enough. And the fact the toy converted from robot to a "Buffalo"Mine-Resistant Ambush-Protected ("M-RAP") engineering vehicle—complete with bomb-scooping "claw"—pretty much put the target-lock on my wallet.

Rain hasn't seen many of the original Transformer cartoons--and he's way too young for the more recent PG-13 blockbuster explosion-fests. Outside of my influence, however--I was still in uniform and out of town at the time--he dressed up like good-guy Transformer "Bumblebee" last Halloween. I guess the proverbial Energon Cube doesn't fall far from the tree.

So, given all this M-RAP love, imagine my glee when I recently discovered that Matchbox had issued a MaxxPro M-RAP truck lookalike painted as a law enforcement vehicle. I've got any number of Red Bull buddies who are also cops, and this toy seemed like it was right up our old Afghan I.E.D. alley. While I prefer the basic black version—it looks like Darth Vader's paddy wagon—a powder-blue variant reminds me of my youthful "U.N. peacekeeper" fantasies. How could something so cute possibly want to harm us?

Of course, an armored M-RAP truck would be about as useful in stateside law enforcement as shooting, moving, and communicating on the battlefield in that high-speed Shelby Cobra. (In another favorite example of questionable utility, Matchbox once produced a lime-green, racing-striped toy version of the B-2 stealth bomber!)

Consider the purple prose on the Matchbox "S.W.A.T. Truck" package:

Sirens are blaring as emergency forces surround the captured building. When the situation gets critical, it’s time to call in the SWAT Truck. Its high-tech interior and fully armored exterior will crush any obstacle that appears in its path! Time to restore the peace!

In reality, the MaxxPro is an ugly, top-heavy truck designed to survive driving over bombs. While I'm a big fan of mine-protected stuff, I'm not so sure I want my pre-schooler to yet contemplate a world in which roads explode and death is arbitrary.

I'll keep the mil-toys locked away for a couple of years, until Rain and I can talk about what they mean to me. And the Red Bull. It might prove to be a good, accessible way into the topic of Afghanistan. "You know, son, Dad used to ride around in one of these ..."

Generals may fight the last war, but toy companies play with it. Keeping an eye on how war is re-packaged and sold back to our kids is a perennial part of parental sentry duty.

In other words, war toys are two-edged swords. Even if they're made of foam. Or are 64 times smaller than real-life and painted powder blue.

Like G.I. Joe said: "Now you know, and knowing is half the battle."

'Ironman' Gunners Invent Ammo-Carrier

A team of Iowa Army National Guard "Red Bull" soldiers was recently credited with inventing a system that allows an individual to carry 500 rounds of belt-fed Mark 48 machine gun ammunition on his back, allowing him to provide sustained and deadly fire while on foot. Without it, a dismounted machine-gunner must be assisted by another soldier, who helps to carry equipment and ammunition, and to feed the weapon belts of bullets.

"When we first arrived in theater in late October [2010], we were issued the Mk 48 7.62 mm machine guns," said Staff Sgt. Vincent Winkowski in a recent Army news article. "This was a new piece of equipment for us, and we struggled to come up with a solution for carrying and employing ammunition for it, due to our small size and the inability to have a designated ammo bearer [...]

"The ammunition sacks that came with it made it too cumbersome and heavy to carry over long, dismounted patrols and especially when climbing mountains. Initially, we came up with using 50-round belts and just reloading constantly, which led to lulls of fire and inefficiency."

Winkowski, Spc. Derick Morgan, and Spc. Aaron McNew got the idea from the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger movie "Predator," in which actor, wrestler, and former Minnesota governor Jesse "The Body" Ventura wields a manpackable Minigun. McNew first employed the system in combat in February 2011.

The design is a mash-up of previously issued equipment: A rucksack frame, a couple of modified ammo cases, and a 27-inch feed-chute assembly (cost: $1,710) borrowed from a Common Remotely Operated Weapons System ("CROWS") vehicle mount. (A CROWS allows soldiers to aim and operate machine guns and other weapons with a videogame-like interface, while seated safely inside an armored vehicle.)

Army fabricators have dubbed the design for a high-capacity ammunition carriage system the "Ironman"--the traditional nickname of the Iowa Army National Guard's 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry Regiment (1-133rd Inf.). The unit, as part of the larger 2010-2011 deployment of 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division (2-34th BCT), returned to Iowa earlier this summer. Between October 2010 and July 2011, the 1-133rd Inf. operated in Eastern Afghanistan's Laghman and parts of Nuristan provinces.

According to the Army news release, improved prototypes were shipped downrange approximately 48 days after Army technicians inspected the Iowans' work. And, if budgets and manufacturing contracts allow, the Ironman system could be more-widely delivered to troops sometime in 2012.

"We've already gotten e-mail traffic from [one of] our science advisers that everybody in theater wants one of these--and by in theater, he means his specific area of operation, Regional Command East in Afghanistan--because word has spread," said Dave Roy, an operations analyst with Natick Soldier Research, Development and Engineering Center (N.S.R.D.E.C.). "That [Iowa National Guard] unit [was] not the only unit on [Forward Operating Base Mehtar-Lam]. As they're walking around the FOB with that piece of kit, very senior people are taking a look at it. They recognize it as a game-changer."

News of the Ironman ammo-carrier design was recently published on the Military.com website, as well as Wired's "Danger Room" blog.

Iowa Red Bull Soldier Killed in Panjshir

Just days or weeks away from his return from a yearlong deployment, Iowa Army National Guard Sgt. 1st Class Terryl L. Pasker, 39, of Cedar Rapids was killed approximately 9:30 a.m. Afghan time, Sat., July 9 when an Afghan National Directorate of Security (N.D.S.) trooper opened fire on Pasker's vehicle while it was stopped at a traffic control point. The incident took place in Darah District of Panjshir Province near a construction project site. An unidentified U.S. civilian law enforcement professional ("LEP") in Pasker's vehicle was also killed.

Iowa National Guard officials announced Pasker's death at a July 10 press conference at Camp Dodge, Iowa.

Master Sgt. Todd Eipperle of Marshalltown, Iowa, was also injured during the attack. As the driver of a vehicle that preceded Pasker's through the traffic control point, Eipperle reportedly stopped his vehicle when shots were fired, exited his vehicle to return fire and killed Pasker's assailant. The attack is under investigation.

The New York Times reported on the incident here.

Eipperle is receiving treatment at an Army medical facility in Afghanistan. He is a member of Headquarters Company, 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division, which is headquartered in Boone.

Pasker is a member of Bravo Company, 334th Brigade Support Battalion, headquartered in Cedar Rapids. Assigned as an electronic maintenance supervisor, he was serving in Panjshir as part a small Embedded Training Team (E.T.T.) that advises, mentors, and assists Afghan police. An Iowa National Guard spokesman said Sunday that Pasker owned a contracting business in Eastern Iowa, and brought a hardworking "construction mentality" to his work in Panjshir. Part of his military duties involved monitoring contractor performance on coalition-funded projects.

Pansjhir is traditionally celebrated as one of the safest provinces in Afghanistan, a place in which U.S. military personnel do not typically wear helmets and body armor. (Locals take great pride in the security of their region--neither the Soviets nor the Taliban were able to effectively penetrate the province--and are said to take offense at any suggestion that guests in their valley are not safe.) Also, U.S. personnel in Panjshir routinely travel in unarmed-but-armored pickup trucks or SUVs, rather than Mine-Resistant Ambushed-Protected (M-RAP, pronounced "em-rap") vehicles more familiar to other parts of the country.

Earlier this year, U.S. state department officials in Panjshir anticipated that the province would be wholly "transitioned" to Afghan responsibility as early as Fall 2011.

Pasker had previously deployed to Afghanistan in 2004-2005. He is survived by a wife, his mother and father, one brother, and two sisters. He and his wife reportedly planned to start a family following his pending 2012 retirement from the Iowa Army National Guard. Funeral arrangements are pending.

Eipperle, the senior enlisted officer for Task Force Red Bulls' training team in Panjshir, is in his civilian career the District Director of the Mid-Iowa Council of the Boy Scouts of America. In January, he connected via videoconference Cub Scout Pack 182 in Iowa with an Afghan National Police (A.N.P.) officer in Panjshir. The policeman shared some insights about Afghan life, and taught the scouts some words in the Dari language.

"When I thanked Captain [Sefat] Mire for doing this for our boys, he simply replied, 'It's something I will remember forever,'" Eipperle said at the time.

Two Vets Walk into a Car Dealership ...

A couple of weeks ago, Household-6 and I decided to go shopping for a new car. By coincidence, an Army buddy happened to walk into the same dealership at the same time. My wife and I ended up buying a car that day. Our randomly selected salesperson was helpful, courteous, and observant. My buddy wasn't as lucky.

Household-6 and I had walked in cold, and taken our chances as to what kind of Sales Guy might be walking the dealership floor. My buddy, as we were to later learn throughout an excruciating afternoon, seemed to have made multiple mistakes: He called ahead, he let a salesperson know what the make and model in which he was interested, and asked "his" Sales Guy (let's call him "Sales Guy II") to prepare some facts and figures prior to his arrival.

Sales Guy II didn't do his homework.

Like most citizen-soldiers, my buddy is a straight-shooter. He was disappointed that Sales Guy II hadn't prepared for their discussion. He ended up walking out. Later on that afternoon, he called Sales Guy II to discuss the matter further. He ended up talking to Sales Guy II's manager. Call him "Sales Boss Guy."

I know this, because my spouse and I were still at the dealership when he called.

Note to Sales Guys and Managers everywhere: Your cubes do not have doors. Other customers can hear you. We can hear you making fun of soldiers and veterans, puffing up like it was a post-game locker room mating dance, after you get off the phone. "Sure you're a soldier--I've got the bullet holes to prove it!" We can hear you tell your potential customers: "The customer is not always right. That's what I tell my sales people."

These conversations went on for more than an hour.

The only thing that kept us in our seats was that "our" Sales Guy was helpful, courteous, and observant. I've worked in sales a little myself, and I know it's a tough gig. I wasn't going to take bread off one guy's table just because his boss and co-workers are louts.

I got to meet that boss when I inquired as to the dealer's advertised $500 discount for military personnel. Sales Boss Guy wanted to put his grubby mitts on my military ID, to "make sure it was real."

He was the same guy who told my buddy that the customer isn't always right.

I called my buddy and told him what we'd overheard, and that he should probably take his business elsewhere. He ended up going to a different dealership just down the road. In retrospect, maybe I should've done the same.

*****

During a previous purchase of a new American-made car, Household-6 and I thought the whole experience was somewhat hokey. We'd purchased a Saturn, back when that company was still in business. When we went to pick it up, our new car was ready and waiting for us, positioned in a room labelled as a "launch pad." The staff stood by to deliver applause, if we so desired. It was cheesy and a little goofy, but it worked. From the start, we felt great about our purchase.

This time, we find the whole car-purchase process devoid of joy. We're still buying American, but we're given little reason to celebrate it. Because we had to special-order our new vehicle, we wait six weeks for delivery of our new vehicle. We get pushed off to a rainy Friday afternoon. Household-6 and I each take a half-day off work to complete the transaction.

After we arrive at the dealership, we are herded into a "customer lounge," one so crowded and hot that we could do nothing but stand and wait. We are waiting on Finance Guy.

While we wait, Household-6 points to the shadow box display hanging on the wall next to where we're standing. It's a folded American flag, with a "Red Bull" certificate stating that it had been flown by Task Force 168 during its 2004-05 deployment to Afghanistan. It's a thank-you to the dealership for their patriotic support.

Sure they're patriots. They've got the bullet holes to prove it, don't they?

After we're finally stuffed into Finance Guy's little office, he suddenly balks at taking a loan check from USAA. (I mention USAA by name here, because it's an insurance and finance company with origins in the U.S. armed forces.) He says it's the dealership's policy "not to release a vehicle until a loan-check clears the next business day."

It is Friday afternoon. I have taken a half-day of work off, and so has my wife. Now, he wants me to come back tomorrow. I could write a personal check, and Finance Guy would apparently take it with no question--but he's got problems with a USAA check?!

I calmly tell him to talk to his boss, to ask for a waiver to the alleged policy. He tells me that demanding things is no way to get things done. I begin to take offense. He takes offense. Among other things, he complains that I have requested the dealership's logo not be affixed in any way to our new car. I tell him that, given his dealership's earlier attitude toward citizen-soldiers, his organization is on probation with me. I imply that I might be doing him a favor in not having his business logo on my car.

From zero to 60 seconds, he weaves and speeds from "there are a few bad apples in every organization" to "I'll personally stomp anyone here who says bad things about soldiers" to "See this tie-tack? It's a National Rifle Association emblem. I'm a patriot." He ends up leaving his office for a few minutes, allegedly to talk to a boss. After he returns, my wife and I buy a new car.

Right before we sign the papers, Household-6 asks about that $500 military discount we were promised by Sales Boss Guy. Finance Guy calls and checks. "I saw the photocopy of your military ID in your folder, but I didn't know what it was there for." The discount had never been applied to the purchase price.

*****

What my wife and I don't tell Finance Guy? That Mr. "The Customer is Not Always Right" Sales Boss was also the same person who, after our first visit, appeared on our television doing a car commercial. According to the commercial, "Sales Boss Guy" is actually the dealership's General Manager.

A few bad apples, indeed.

In a military unit, the Head Apple is responsible for everything his or her organization does and fails to do. That goes for maneuvering, supporting, and provisioning troops in combat, and that goes for training them to be effective and professional in their jobs.

The latter includes unsexy tasks such as eliminating discriminatory practices and attitudes within the ranks.

I'm quite pleased with our new car, and not at all pleased with the attitudes we encountered during its purchase. This particular dealership has reportedly spent thousands of dollars to provide teddy bears to the children of deployed Iowa National Guard soldiers. I'd be happier if, in the future, they spent a little money and attention on customer service and diversity training for their management, sales, and support staffs.

In other words, when 3,000 Red Bull troops come home to Iowa later this summer, armed with a year's worth of tax-free income and combat pay, looking for a square deal on a new American-built car or truck, I'd recommend this simple sales strategy:

Put your mouth where your money is.