Life in a box... Afghan continues

Let’s backup a little bit.

You may be asking yourself, man that Joe guy is so handsome! He looks more like a lover than a fighter... you are correct.

I joined the Army originally because I felt a call to be a journalist, to write about the real experiences people face. I enjoy short stories and articles over books. I didn’t get accepted as a Journalist though because I didn’t have an audition tape, according to my recruiter that’s what I needed. I wasn’t interested in that so I just picked another MOS or job. I scored extremely well on my aptitude test prior to enlisting so they encouraged me to choose something more fitting for my genius level intellect.

(Being modest is not in my vocabulary by the way! Haha)

So, it was EOD, Linguists, or Biomedical

Electrical Technician. So, I chose the BMET school because it was in Wichita Falls and I could be semi-close to home. EOD school was in Florida! Oh man how I wish I’d thought that over.

So, flash forward. I’m in Bagram, it’s November / December in the mountains. It’s cold, it snows a lot, and I don’t have any friends. They are serving Cornish Hen at the chow hall - glazed in maple syrup... OMG it was so bad... yet we pay contractors billions to come over and cook the food for troops. I get selected to eat my Thanksgiving with the 1st lady, voluntold as they call it. It was lame.

I spent the majority of my time watching movies on a small DVD player and even spent Christmas Day watching 24 episodes of 24. The entire season in one run! I spend the rest of my days unloading & loading pallets from planes and sorting supplies.

(Stop)

Your're probably wondering why I’m doing supplies if I was a borderline genius BMET?

Well... funny you should ask, flashback. I go to basic training and then on to Shepherd AFB with 2 others. We flew into Dallas then on to Wichita Falls on a 2 engine prop plane. The airport there was only open when the 12 passenger plane arrived. We touched down and got out and then we were told our bags were still in Dallas and so we had to wait... in an empty airport... all dressed up like we just graduated... it was July in Texas...

So, BMET school was a little over a year long, 12 blocks as they call it. All about 4 weeks each, I’m a bit cocky and the school was too easy. So, I spend the majority of my time partying and driving back to Dallas on occasion.

Block Nine! The final block before it’s smooth sailing for the rest of the year. I come in to class that day and Boom! I’m dragged into another room and I’m being yelled at and accused that I cheated on the previous days test. That was all BS because that’s not what happened. We took written tests then hands on tests, I had called the instructor on a mistake she had made and she assumed I magically corrected an answer that she marked wrong with a pencil we were not allowed to have, etc. So, they failed me and kicked me out, didn’t help that I was not brushed up on my people skills yet.

I spent the next few months, shining my boots, and being jacked with by 6 bored Drill Sgts. Not a fun place to be, I appealed several times but as fate would have it... no luck.

So, here I am unboxing stuff and moving It to another box. Because who needs brains when got all this brawn! Am I right? The base was small, about 6 miles in perimeter but only 2ish down the main strip. They had camps for each branch, and even other countries. They had a prison, a Burger King trailer, and a PX.

Now, this was not a real Burger King, none the less I ate it. Oh man, BK sucks!

When I wasn’t renting movies from the library I was working out, working, walking, or eating. I also picked up a knack for teaching myself how to draw Isolation at its finest!

To be continued....