The Broken Soldier

I forgot to mention meeting a cog in the rumor mill. Hubbell, Hummell, something like that. He was sitting with the Michigan table at Muster last week. He sat through a discussion between several CSMs and myself of what had gone down for the last three years.

This coward, who has made a point of sending libelous email to my current CoC at the Rock Island Arsenal, IL CBWTU, couldn’t look me in the eyes. A man who has spent a year and a half slandering me to everyone who’ll listen, including my CoC at Knox and RIA and my current duty site, based on little more than the slander and libel of those above him, couldn’t pay me the respect of looking me in the eyes. He couldn’t say a word to me. He didn’t dare chime in as I told the CSMs of my state my story.

Now I’m pissed again. It’s been a while. I was trying to be Zen or Christ-like about it. But I only have two cheeks. Both have been slapped. Once at Knox, then again at RIA, and then again at my current duty site. Creating a negative impression of me before anyone at each location has even met me. Creating a situation in which a very difficult situation is made just that much more difficult, as I have a negative impression, a false negative really, to disprove and dispel.

You, sir, are a coward. And I hope, you doting sycophant, that you have a good attorney. Cuz you and your lords have slander, libel, and calumny suits coming. And no, you fucking invertebrate, that’s not an article of clothing. Ask your masters what that means. I’m sure they’ll lie to you, you’ll lap it up, and all convince yourselves there’s nothing to worry about.

Muster. As predicted, a week of pain. However, there was several thousands pounds of cheese danishes, and some of the classes were good. Meaning, implicitly, some were not so good.

I had a nice time. It’s good to be with friends more or less sharing your struggles. I did a bit of networking, which may become very important if my VA Comp isn’t as high as most expect it to be. I made sure Voc Rehab would be paying for Harvard Grad School (a subtle way of saying, ‘fuck you’ to critics doubting I possess the intellectual chops to speak to issues spoken here).

I gave some of my friends gifts. ‘Some’ because some, well one, will receive his gift later in the form of help on research papers and possibly a series of novels. My Platoon SGT received the most gifts: A child’s penguin Halloween outfit, a five lbs bag of Twizzlers, a ‘fine pewter’ Army pen holder w/pen included, a card with a chimp on the cover, and a junior enlisted coin. The latter being the only serious gift, given because I truly appreciate him, personally and professionally. A few other friends received coins too. Mostly for showing my wife and I support and empathy (as they faced similar horrors with Army medicine we did). One friend, a friend who demonstrated serious discomfort with anything having to do with man on man action, got the latest copy of “Muscle Fuck Monthly” (or whatever it’s called).

At this point, you must be asking yourself, “What does the title have to do with the post?” Good question. It’s meant to be ironic. Those of you who’ve doubted me, the stories of others I’ve shared here, everything discussed on this site were so cocksure of your doubts. When this program, CBWTB and its ‘Muster’ are designed to answer the very criticisms I and others have leveled. Perhaps, my little cocks, before you generate your perfect assurance in rightness of your position, you check first to see if there’s adequate ground beneath your feet. Cuz even the Army’s, dumb and lumbering as an organization it is, has passed you on its way to the middle of the bell curve.

I’ve not posted in some time. In part because I’ve had nothing to post about. In part because I’ve lost interest in posting here. Those with similar experiences see truth in what I’ve posted. Those who haven’t see lies. Those who want ammunition to use against organized military will surely find it here. Those who seek reason to besmirch the characters of or if in their power destroy anyone criticizing organized military will, likewise, find it here.

Yesterday I alerted my CoC my wife wasn’t attending ‘muster,’ a five day event my Community Based Warriors in Transition Unit (CBWTU) program put on every quarter. A chance to voice grievances, press the flesh with higher-ups, receive information, play golf an meet beauty queens. I brought this to the attention of those in charge as soon as I learned of it. Those in charge seemed unhappy, but, as I’ve so often said here, truth doesn’t have to be beautiful/what we want it to be.

My wife is being promoted. A promotion taking us to San Francisco. A big move with short suspense. Much for which to prepare. Additionally, my wife chose to stay behind to attend to matters of moving and to take care of our dogs - one of whom is only 4 months old, weighing less than one pound.

Upon sharing this information, I was told this was creating significantly more work for those responsible for my travel and lodging - while the person responsible for my travel and lodging stated in the background ‘It’s not a big deal.’ I offered, in the spirit of making things easier for everyone, to make my own travel arrangements (n.b. I did not actually make them, just offered to do so to make things easier). I made the mistake of sharing this information with my wife. My wife sent an email, as she was instructed to do by those in positions of power at the CBWTU, to my CoC.

My CoC voiced its distemper with me today. In our discussion, I was told ‘This is how the rumor mill gets started.’ My wife’s email, containing the word ‘reprimand’ to describe her sense of what went down. Her email was then forwarded to ‘15-20 other people.’ To this I voiced confusion. Confusion that will never, regardless of how much discussion is had, dissipate.

This is not how the rumor mill is started or fueled. “This” meaning the actions of my wife and I. I did what I was supposed to do. A change in plans came to my attention, and I shared it with those in power immediately. My wife did what she was told to do: If you have a problem, share it with us.

My wife and I are neither the creators nor the fuel for the rumor mill, which has created hostility for me everywhere I’ve gone. Those who send information, often out of context to those who, as enumerated above, look for lies and a reason to besmirch or destroy in anything viewed as criticism of the organization to which they belong are the rumor mill. God only knows the motive. I makes no sense to my wife and I.

From now on we will keep our mouths shut. I have little time left. And motive and hope to correct what we see as wrong, as we’ve been encouraged to do, simply isn’t worth the potential cost.