Army Saga

[AccountingDrone]

AH yes, a friend of mine who was in the Navy and Army referred to those as "Mandatory Fun" events. They seem to be despised by most of the military folk I've talked to.

In the sub service [US Navy] there are the occasional bring your family to work for a day and go out to sea for 8 hours. They can actually manage to be fun if you know what to expect and can work around the planned activities.

They generally start by giving everybody a mocked up fake qual card, and you have to go around to the different stations they have set up, do whatever and get whomever is on that station to sign off that you did whatever. The first time I ever did one was on a 637 class sub [Sturgeon class, his was the Spadefish, may she rust in pieces.] I dutifully did control, sonar and got to the torpedo room where I promptly pissed off the weapons officer by knowing more about the particular torpedo than he did. Then I finally got down to Machinery 1 where Rob was. Forever after that I would head straight for machinery to hang with the guys I already knew

I will say that family days could be fun - they usually let everybody have a turn on the planes in control driving the sub, and they usually did some angles and dangles, an emergency blow, water slugs from the tubes and a couple crazy ivans. Here is a vid from what appears to be some recentish family day. This is what an emergency blow looks like from the outside, all the water in the ballast tanks is pushed out so the sub pops to the surface and effectively does a dolphin jump, but it can really only do it once. It is sort of like being on an express elevator ride. The portrayal of one in NCIS is reasonably accurate.

I told off the wife of the boats XO [executive officer, second in command] when she and the CO tried to pressure all of us into going to see the Pound Puppy movie in the theaters when it was released - there were on ly one or 2 of the wives with kids of the right age, and none of us really wanted to see the damned movie. So I told them it was their husbands who had the commissions, not them and they didn't rank us and we had democratically decided to see something else. They didn't like me very much after that - I really hate military wives clubs - they are so damned cliquish.

I had to go to Red Cross to get a notification to my husband when he was on a Med Run [cruise to and around the Mediterranean Sea. Usually lasted 4-6 months.] Our ram had been diagnosed with caseous lymphadenitis and Rob and I had been handling him after he had been attacked by a dog pack [over 250 stitches external, probably 100 or so internal. Totally killed our being able to exhibit him ] so he had plenty of exposure to blood and fluids and our vet recommended we both get tested. The Navy had what they called 'familygrams' - little 25 fakey telegram sort of messages that you could submit and they would add to the message bundle going to the subs [way pre internet availability] but you could only send cheerful news. Total waste of time, there was almost no way to get negative news to someone.] I crawled my way up the command structure and got nowhere until I basically said fuck it, called the red cross and explained the medical emergency, they did something and managed to get word to Rob about needing to be tested, and he got teased about 'sheep-HIV' for the rest of the cruise - but at least we were both negative

When I originally went to the base orthopedic unit for my right knee [I was exhibiting positive osteoarthritis symptoms roughly when my civilian orthopod predicted I would after the second time it got wiped out in high school] Rob and I sat there as he told me to get off my ass and stop watching soap operas and eating bonbons all day. We immediately marched down to the hospital Family Ombudsman and filed a complaint.

While Rob was out to sea on a northern run [making holes in the water in the north sea, under the arctic ice pack and places behind the iron curtain we can only guess at I had pneumonia from when he left at the begining of January until it finally resolved in June I had this really hard core chest pain, so I and the roommate of the time drove to the base ER and got checked out. This was back when we had a Philipino doctor there nicknamed Dr Death who was my examining physician. He obviously had not bothered to read my hot pink folder with 3 inch letters mentioning my penicillin allergy to the entire world because he diagnosed me with bronchitis and prescribed penicillin It was a sunday, so I called in and made an appointment to see my regular team and that doctor told me I had a touch of pleurisey and of course not to take the penicillin because he would rather I didn't go into anaphylaxis and that the only real treatment was to relax and take the occasional NSAID, another course of antibiotics, draining that side of my chest cavity and relaxing in front of the TV. Thank Ghu I had the presence of mind to ignore the damned doctor, he had 22 or 23 malpractice suits active at the time.

We refused housing in the enlisted quarters in Oceana when we were still in Norfolk. You could flip on the lights and the cockroaches would look up and ask why we were disturbing them. They would come out in the day to forage for water and crumbs. You had to keep stiff in glass jars or the fridge/freezer to keep the roaches out. They would only bug bomb individual units, not the whole complex so the bugs just shifted from unit to unit. [We had been in the Norfolk area for several years and knew people in the units and visited. Yeccch!] Substandard housing was frequently the only housing offered, all WW2 vintage, generally. They didn't get around to replacing a lot of housing until the late 80s and early 90s. Now the freaking jackasses have 'outsourced' housing to a civilian management company, and turned sections into public section 8 housing so now they are more or less civilian slums with gang activity.

[Hanzoku]

Thank Ghu I had the presence of mind to ignore the damned doctor, he had 22 or 23 malpractice suits active at the time.

...How in the hell did the hospital still employ him? And how did he manage to keep his malpractice insurance paid, it must have been through the roof!

[Deserted]

We refused housing in the enlisted quarters in Oceana when we were still in Norfolk. You could flip on the lights and the cockroaches would look up and ask why we were disturbing them.

Oceana. [shudder] My A school was at Dam Neck, right down the road. (This was 1995.) A friend of my from boot camp (we actually met on the flight from Phoenix) was stationed there. I visited her base housing once. ONCE. I wish I could've been there to see her husband's face when he arrived.

[Joyius]

You and my mom would get along quite well, she's like you, willing to speak her mind about that kind of stuff.

[AccountingDrone]

...How in the hell did the hospital still employ him? And how did he manage to keep his malpractice insurance paid, it must have been through the roof!

Back before Uncle Sam went with Tri-Care as a sort of HMO they were run sort of like the old unholy VA hospital system and they were less concerned with qualifications [they basically took anybody who had passed med school and internship] and more with hiring cheap bodies to fill the ranks. In an all volunteer Navy doctors were not joining up because even as a commissioned officer the pay was way less than a regular doctor could do in the real world. S you would get these mostly functional doctors that were one step away from having their licenses yanked.

Oceana. [shudder] My A school was at Dam Neck, right down the road. (This was 1995.) A friend of my from boot camp (we actually met on the flight from Phoenix) was stationed there. I visited her base housing once. ONCE. I wish I could've been there to see her husband's face when he arrived.

LOL, I bet. Funky thing about housing was the barracks got renovated and replaced fairly frequently, just not family housing. They were transitioning away from the old style open bay barracks to college dorm sort of housing for the bachelor enlisted, though the officer babies were still getting the sort of hotel room units.

[Chromatix]

And in case you don't know what a Crazy Ivan is...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3rX0T2XNxs

[dalesys]

... a Crazy Ivan is...

In Soviet Russia, target flies up your nose.

[XCashier]

They were later asked to leave when their darlings decided to throw bowling balls like baseballs...They are throwing 10 pound balls at my station. Imagine their surprise when not only were they asked to leave but the unit was billed for the damages to the podium, the replacement of the balls that had been cracked and the MP phone calls. And they were banned both as a group and as individuals.

I should hope so! What if one of those balls had hit someone?! That could severely injure, even kill a person!

What kind of ed-up parents see nothing wrong with their kids throwing ten-pound balls or crank-calling 911?! That's beyond lazy; that's bordering on sociopathic.

[cleorose]

Hellspawn

To kind of explain why parents around here don't care if their kids do stupid stuff.

The army wives / husbands and the kids by extension play the my dad is better than yours card.

When you go to an army function that is a pecking order of those that are enlisted. Their respective spouses seem to think (and the kids as well) that the same pecking order applies for them. IE a 1st's Wife thinks because her man is #1 in the nco list, that makes her top bitch on the nco wives club.

What this means is that when their brats get crazy at school, mrs 1st sgt will literally storm the school and threaten the teachers with all manner of unpleasantness. Its to the point on post where there is next to no education system. The kids at the top of the food chain bully the kids at the bottom because their parents allow it.

I had two boys come into my yard, up my driveway and play with the toys in our storage and overhang area. (Not visible from the street. ) I came outside because my kids were inside and these kids were 3-4 years older than mine and asked them what they were doing. They said playing and then asked if they could have our kids scooters. When I said no, their response was well they aren't playing with them and our parents let us have whatever we want.

I'm not your parent, I am telling you can not have my children's things. Get off my property before I call the MPS and charge you with theft and trespassing.

Cue stomping off.

They waited til I went inside and tried to come back to get the scooters. I was paranoid and saw them coming back. I stepped outside once they were coming up the driveaway again. I put the toys in storage under a lock and brought the scooters and bats and balls into the house to put in the closet. Leaving nothing for the brats to take.

They were not happy. But I didn't care.

That sense of entitlement is condusive to the ranks. The higher the rank the worse they are. I assume since we and several other lower enlisted were not invited to the bowling party that those heathen children were kids of higher ncos / officers.

[XCashier]

That is just appalling. To think that they can just waltz in and take something from someone else...eventually those little shits are going to get arrested for shoplifting. They won't think they've done anything wrong of course; they'll just think the cops are picking on them. And Mummsy and Daddums won't figure out where they went wrong with their Precious Darling Little Angels.

I have no patience for that nonsense. If I am willing and able to teach my kid right from wrong, any parent can (and should!).

[AccountingDrone]

That sense of entitlement is condusive to the ranks. The higher the rank the worse they are. I assume since we and several other lower enlisted were not invited to the bowling party that those heathen children were kids of higher ncos / officers.

I grew up an officers brat and it sort of carried over because in the late 50s the family sold off the mills because none of the 3 brothers were going to be taking over the business [my dad was career army since 1939, my uncle ran bakeries in southwestern CT, he was responsible for the sourdough bread fad in NYC in the late 60s/early 70s, and my third uncle had moved to Tampa and ran restaurants] so my dad retired in 1969 and went to work as a vice president in what was at the time the largest chemical repackager and bleach manufacturer. The town we ended up moving to was effectively a company town divided between 3 corporations. In addition to that, my dad was on the boards of directors of Blue Cross, Boy Scouts, Chase Bank and a few other odds and ends. I went to a string of private schools and did actually go to a prom with a Kennedy.

One fine Saturday Rob's sub was due back from a Northern Run [they went to HolyLoch Scotland, Tromso Norway and made holes in the water where Russian was the favorite language] and he had no cell phone at the time. So, as I was stuck at work until 7, and wouldn't be back in the area until at least 830 I needed to get in touch with him to let him know to hang out on the boat until I could get him. Unfortunately I could not contact the boat, and I kept trying the main number - the only one listed for the base to get an auto answer that the base operator had gone home. Knowing Rob knew I worked saturdays, I didn't worry much, so I headed to base and ended up in the closed pass office at about 815. I tried what had been the boat number before the cruise, it wasn't hooked up. I tried the base number, still auto answer. I called squadron, the guy on q-deck was useless, he couldn't walk down to the boat and pass a message and he didn't have a runner. I called directory assistance, got the quarterdeck for the entire sub base, got the officer of the day for the entire base, and he ran down to the sub, picked Rob up and brought him to the base main gate. Yup, I basically asked the senior officer on duty for the entire base to run an errand for me.

I tend to always be very polite, and in general if you don't ask, they can't say no and if a request seems sensible, I can generally manage to get my way. It turns out that the base had had an electrical fire in the switching office and most of the phones on base were hosed up. Rob decided to go ahead and get a cell phone after that.

[raudf]

As a military (Navy) brat, I never got to see too much of the parental infighting. I only had one parent I had issues with and that was because she was an officer's wife who hated the fact that I was more popular with the other kids than her daughter was. Never mind that her daughter didn't really care whether she was popular or not.

I don't remember the required family fun days in Mississippi. There were some events, like soft-ball and such, but I was a bit younger then. I do remember wandering off with a friend or two or finding other kids to roam with during them.. that's all.

Iceland, that was a blast for family fun days! They'd do a charity event, like a huge carnival (without the rides - too windy/cold outdoors and the supply warehouse could only hold so much) with all sorts of games and prizes. or they'd have a HUGE cookout and while they didn't have much for the kids, we weren't kept in doors or forced to do silly games. We just went out and played among the rocks like we always did. It was a blast!

Otherwise, with a few exceptions, the kids were kids. Most of us couldn't care less what rank our parents held. We just followed the simple rules of, "no bullying, everyone gets a turn and look out for each other." Those that couldn't follow those rules didn't run with my pack. We just never included them into our games. And while there were squabbles, we didn't resort to rank pulling like I'm sure the parents did.

[Gilhelmi]

I was very lucky with my Army assignments.

Of course, I was lower enlisted attached to an officer as my direct superior. That may have helped.

[Sapphire Silk]

Wow. What stories

I'll have to get EE to chime in with some of her Air Force stories.

I do remember staying one night in BEQ housing. We were on our way to Gen Con, drove, and stayed a night there.

Wow. What a nightmare. Shabby, dirty, sparse. A family next door had two rooms; kids in one, parents in the other. Kids ran wild up and down the halls, slamming doors and acting crazy. They had a dog that they weren't supposed to have; snuck him in, and he barked at everything that moved.

I was glad to get out of there, and disgusted at the poor quality of resources the Army got.

[EricKei]

Just a little mod-note, guys -- Even if kids mentioned in a post are being complete assholes, please keep the terminology used to describe them below the Fratching line.