If you have read some of my most recent posts, you know that I have been writing about my experiences while attending the Logistics Executive Development Course at Fort Lee, Virginia. If you have read about my exploits at Fort Lee, Virginia, you no doubt know about my dealings with the commanding general. For example, the commanding general’s invitational deer hunt that I managed to get invited to participate in, as a swamp dog. Yay. Or about how the commanding general wrongly promoted and then demoted me in the same week. Double yay. But not all of my dealings with the general were negative. We had a love-hate relationship. I love to hate him. But seriously, the old guy started to grow on me as time went on. Fort Lee started to grow on me as time went on as well. But all good things must come to an end and it was the same with the Logistics Executive Development Course. My class had finally entered graduation week. If you read my last post, you may remember reading about the dining out that I talked about. Well, I mostly talked about stains. You know. Food stains. Not the kind caused by food fights. That reminds me of another story not told here of a food fight among generals. True story. But it will have to wait for another time. The senior cadre at the Logistics Executive Development Course called me into the course management office the day before graduation. I had no idea why. I was pretty sure I hadn’t done anything wrong. But you never know. When I got into the office, the Colonel in charge told me that he was waiting for the commanding general to show up. I thought to myself, “Oh boy, here we go again.” Five minutes later, the commanding general walked in and everybody snapped to attention. The general walked over and said, “How are you doing, young man?” I told him I was doing fine and I asked him what the meeting was about. He informed me that the school cadre was very impressed with my performance at the Logistics school and that the people at the Logistics Center in Aberdeen were very impressed with me. I thought to myself, ‘Shit, already know that. So what?!?’ He also said that the cadre wanted to add me to the teaching staff at the Logistics Executive Development School. He said that they would discuss the details with me. And then he left. After the general left, the Colonel in charge of the cadre at the Logistics Executive Development Course asked me if I would consider becoming one of the cadres. He said that the general could take care of the orders to change my follow-on assignment. I was currently on orders to move to Fort Huachuca, Arizona, following graduation at the Logistics Executive Development Course. I said that I would have to ask my wife about it, but that I was open to the idea. Then, the Colonel in charge sprang the “gotcha” on me. Yes, there was a huge “gotcha.” The Colonel explained that the instructor position was at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio. “Ohio! It’s not here at Fort Lee?” I exclaimed. “No,” the colonel replied. “You could possibly get reassigned here at a later date. But for now, the assignment is at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio. I said, “Oh hell no. Nobody volunteers to go to Ohio. It’s cold in the winter, and all of the football teams suck. I could tell you right now that my wife won’t like it either. She won’t like it for the exact same reasons that she didn’t like North Dakota. It looks like we’ll be going to Fort Huachuca, Arizona.” The cadre asked me, “What in the hell is in Arizona?” I replied, “Fort Huachuca is a known quantity to us. We have been there before. I think that we will do just fine.” So when graduation day came the next day, I graduated as an honor graduate of the Logistics Executive Development Course and we loaded our red Chevy van to head toward Arizona. We stopped and spent the Christmas holiday in Colorado Springs, Colorado, with relatives. Right after Christmas, I decided to travel alone to Fort Huachuca, Arizona, to drop off my wife’s car and to sign into my new unit, and to sign right back out on leave. When I pulled into the parking lot at my new organization, there was an old green pickup truck with a camper shell sitting in the parking lot. It was the only vehicle sitting in the parking lot. I swear to God that it looked like there was a dead mummy propped up in the camper shell against the back of the cab of the pickup truck. I thought to myself, “Jesus H. Christ. What in the hell is that?!?” I walked over to that old pickup truck to get a better look. Sitting inside that camper shell was a Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant sound asleep (either that or he was dead). I sure as hell wasn’t going to check. No siree Bob, and don’t call me Bob. The grave diggers could crawl in there and check that out, but not me. No way, no how. I parked my wife’s car a few spaces away from that green pickup truck and drove over to the main building. I rang the buzzer to be admitted. A guy named Jack opened the door and let me in. He said, “You must be the new Captain?” I replied, “Yes, I am. We spoke on the phone.” He checked me in and signed me back out on leave. I asked him about the guy in the green truck. He replied, “Oh, that’s not a ghost or a mummy in there. Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr is your NCOIC. He is set to retire in a few months.” I thought to myself, “Splendid. Just fine. Well, at least if I need to find him, I know where he’ll be.” After I signed out, I checked out of the guest quarters at Fort Huachuca and headed back up to Colorado Springs. Other than finding my soon to be mummified NCOIC asleep in the back of his truck, I encountered no exercises in futility.
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