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.

Red Bulls Get Exclusive Sneak Peak at 'Restrepo'

CAMP RIPLEY, MINNESOTA--More than 50 leaders and staff of the Iowa Army National Guard's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th "Red Bull" Infantry Division attended an exclusive sneak-peak of the documentary "Restrepo" Sunday, June 27.

The Sundance Award-winning film, which depicts how one company of U.S. soldiers conducted counterinsurgency operations in the hotly contested Korengal Valley, Afghanistan, opens in theaters nationwide from now until early July. While previously shown in special screenings on active-duty military bases, the Red Bull "Restrepo" event uniquely offered an opportunity to Army National Guard soldiers in a pre-deployment training environment.

The audience comprised much of the brigade's Headquarters and Headquarters Company (H.H.C.)--the non-commissioned, warrant, and commissioned officers who will lead and support the unit during its deployment to Afghanistan later this summer.

By repeatedly embedding with the same platoon of soldiers in 2007 and 2008, film co-producers Sebastian Junger (author of the books "War" and "The Perfect Storm") and Tim Hetherington (author of "Long Story, Bit by Bit") sought to document the emotional experience of U.S. soldiers in combat.

In discussions that followed Sunday night, Red Bull soldiers combined the terrain, conditions, and strategies depicted in "Restrepo" with their own experiences, expertise, and expectations. (Approximately 60 percent of the brigade's soldiers have deployed at least once before.) Here are some highlights of their reactions:

"We have to remember that we, as staff--the decisions that we make and help make, are going to put other people in these situations."

"Never once did it seem like the captain [in the film] asked the elders what they wanted. It seemed like U.S. troops came in and made promises, but never asked the village what they wanted. Some higher somewhere apparently made the decision they they needed roads, and never asked."

"We tell [Afghans] that we're going to make them rich, and then we can't pay for a damn cow?"

"It's important to realize the separation of what these soldiers went through and what we may be going to. As a lieutenant or platoon sergeant, I might live [in the way depicted in the film]. But if you're on Bagram [Airfield], when you're living in a B-hut or CHU or whatever, remember that there are guys out there living in the dirt, burning their own crap, looking for a hot meal every once in a while."

One soldier wished that more soldiers could have taken part in the special screening, including lower-ranking ones. "The time is now. A lot of soldiers aren't taking it seriously yet. This would open a lot of eyes."

At the same time, other soldiers expressed concerns that family and friends might worry that the film represents conditions in Afghanistan nationwide, rather than a particularly gritty pocket. "Every one of us will see a different piece of the puzzle, a different patch of ground, have a different story to tell. In other words, our mileage may vary."

For a few moments, however, thanks to the producers of "Restrepo," Red Bull troops were able to walk in other soldiers' boots--before they travel to Afghanistan themselves.

Our Eyes in the Skies

Earlier this Annual Training, I was able to observe a couple of take-offs and landings of our Military Intelligence Company's ("MICO," pronounced "my-koh") Unmanned Arial Vehicle (U.A.V.) platoon. The MICO is part of the 2/34 Brigade Special Troops Battalion (B.S.T.B.), headquartered in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

The platoon flies the RQ-7B "Shadow," a radio-controlled aircraft with a 14-foot wingspan, capable of flying for up to 6 hours. Not only can it provide observation and radio-relay coverage, but an upgrade will soon allow it to be used to laser-direct artillery.

Training with the Shadow requires a mix of luck and good weather. "If it's too windy, too cloudy, or too rainy, we don't fly," says one soldier. It also requires a little organizational flexibility. The aviation section in the brigade's headquarters, for example, has to coordinate with the local airport to de-conflict airspace. The FAA doesn't want "robot planes" flying near manned aircraft, so using the drones shuts down local air traffic for a couple of hours at a time.

A trailer-mounted pneumatic catapult launches the gray-colored bird, accelerating the 400-pound drone to approximately 66 mph in the space of about 15 feet. To land, a system of arresting cables laid across the runway catches the aircraft's tailhook. The gasoline engine sounds like a weed-whacker on steroids, but can barely be heard if operating at high enough altitudes.

(By the way, below this post are two videos, each approximately 36 seconds. One is a Shadow take-off, the other, a landing.)

On the Star-Trek-like system of video screens in the brigade Tactical Operations Center ("TOC"), we were able to display the live video feed from our Shadows. The TOC personnel learned to simultaneously track the Shadow using our 2- and 3-Dimensional map systems, and to better understand and guide our eyes in the sky. Saying "hey, what's that over there" just doesn't work when you're on the radio with a guy or gal who is piloting an aircraft remotely.

The Shadow is a brigade-level asset. At the lower "battalion" level, soldiers use the RQ-11 Raven, a 65-inch-wingspan UAV that is launched by hand. It reminds me of those Styrofoam gliders they used to sell at the beach when I was a kid--extremely lightweight and designed to fall apart when it lands on the roof of your house.

The story goes that one of our Infantry guys were training with their Ravens under supervision from some Minnesota trainers. It was kind of windy, and it had been a judgment call to even conduct the training. While trying to land the aircraft, a sudden gust forced the Raven hit a white government-owned van in the front passenger-side door, denting it.

Of course, when it was later reported to the brigade TOC, it had grown by word of mouth into a full-blown "aviation incident." There was a quick investigation, but nothing was broken. Because the training had been conducted under the supervision of a Minnesota trainer, and because it was a Minnesota van, the safety officer determined that the Viking-on-Viking violence (or, if you prefer, the "Airbender Fender-Bender") qualified as a ground accident.

And the note on the Battle Captain's board the next day in the TOC?

"Ravens 1, Vans 0."

***

Video of a Raven take-off:

Video of a Raven landing: