Military Movember

conclusion: i probably shouldn’t go awol

0635:  I check his office as instructed (though a few minutes late).  No sign of him.
0720:  See him briefly in the hall after morning announcements.

Me:  I tried to come by this morning; you weren’t there, but I…
Him:  This next briefing is important, but come to my office right afterward.
Me:  I can’t.  I’m have a physical at 0730 across base.

I spend an hour or so relaying the events of last summer and how I nearly died of an asthmatic attack from allergens the day before I flew to Spain to run with a bunch of wild bovine.  The doctor said I’d likely have to go before a medical board of sorts to see if I can stay in the service or not.

Me:  Because of some allegies?
Military Doctor: It’s not likely that they’ll make you separate…10 years ago, when I was in the Army, as asthmatic attack meant you were out, but that’s unlikely now.  But you probably can’t deploy somewhere dusty.
Me:  That pretty much eliminates every “hot spot” in which we’ve deployed troops since Vietnam, doesn’t it?

I go back to our building and into the commander’s office.  Empty again.  Go about my day.  See him briefly after the day’s last briefing.

Him:  Come to my office after sign out, ok?
Me:  Okay.

1615 (15 minutes after the Bama-Georgia game has begun and I’d expected to be home):  I try to enter his office.

Him:  Go see if Major Devall and Lt Colonel Jay are available.

“That’s odd,” I think as I text the Major and ask him to come up from the office we share downstairs.

1620 (20 minutes after the start of the Bama-Georgia game I really wanted to be watching at home by now):  The 4 of us enter his office and shut the door behind us.

Him:  I gotta tell you…I am not happy.
Me:  Well neither am–
Him:  (starts reading my emails from the previous week, which he’s printed out)
Me:  I’m actually pretty well aware of what I wrote and don’t need you to–
Him:  (begins yelling at me about how sure he is that my previous squadron commanders did not allow members to miss a “freebie” drill weekend of sorts each year)
Me:  That’s not correct–
Him:  So you’re calling me a liar?
Me:  No, I’m identifying an incorrect statement you’ve made.
Him:  I don’t like your tone.  And I don’t like this bantering back and forth you seem to be unable to stop doing!
Me:  “Bantering” is playful back and forth conversation, and I don’t think this talk would–
Him:  Enough!  You broke the chain of command and made travel arrangement without permission when–
Me:  I did not; I verbally consulted the Major, who was my supervisor before my promotion, and–
Him:  (yells some more and basically indicates there is NO WAY IN HELL there will not be serious repercussions if I skip February drill weekend before declaring that “we’re done here” while throwing in 2 more accusatory jabs that are complete mistruths about persons under my command).

I spring from my chair and power walk down the hall, skipping the unit happy hour we were supposed to be enjoying to drive home and see the football game.  Major Devall and Lt Colonel Jay are requested to stay behind and talk further behind my back as I exit earshot range.

So, yeah.  I guess I can’t very well go to Dad 2.0 this year.  Unless I’m on a speaking panel.  Then, fuck it.


In other news, look how happy I was to get rid of my Movember mustache!  And look how ugly our master bathroom is (until it’s gutted next year)!

Blog Widget by LinkWithin


  1. Sorry to hear about all that crap with your jerk commanding officer. And I thought MY job was rough.

    Glad to see your face is once again smooth as a baby’s butt. Not that your ‘stache wasn’t extremely manly and intimidating.

  2. I sense you and I will be have some whiskey time via Google chat as I probably won’t make Dad 2.0 either.

  3. Sup Muskrat,

    Nice to see you can keep a “stiff upper lip” (in honor of Movember) with this stuff. Seems like there’s always that kind of crap, no matter the profession, rank, etc.

    I enjoy your stories. They keep it real and I don’t feel so along as a father and professional. Besides, my sides hurt after reading a lot of your stories. So I come back for more as often as I can.

    Later Muskrat-gator.


  4. Wow. Sounds like “Him” is a real fucktard. Douch-canoe. Ass hat.

    Or, as my kids would say, “Mean man.”

    Gimme his address. I’ve got a 12-pack of toilet paper just itching for an early Christmas decoration.


  5. Disappointing resolution. Now who will I roam rural Texas in the middle of the night aimlessly with before ending up at McDonalds?

  6. in my head, I read the conversation as if it were banter.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.