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It's difficult for me to make this actually make sense to people who haven't worked in my tiny little world... But, I'll give it a shot.

Background... For terminology's sake...

I spent about a half dozen years, of my 20 year career, working with Army, Navy and Marines, from the US, as well as from other countries... Early on, with Canadians, in NORAD (North American Air Defense Command) and later, with personnel from various NATO countries.

As a member of an Air Force Special Activities Detachment, I made a lot of friends, but very few were people that stayed with me beyond a tour of duty... They returned to their home country and their actual military branch. No one rotated with me... So, while I kept in touch with some, I lost track of most.

In NATO, I wrote performance reviews for one US Air Force Staff Sergeant and he didn't even work in the same area as me... special activities are somewhat disjointed, administratively.

While the Army uses MOS, the Air Force, in my time, called it "career field"... I started out in the 685xx career field, in 1968 and, somewhere along the way, 685xx became 511xx, before I retired in 1988.

I spent 18.5 years, in an Air Force that had always segregated computers by function (support data processing, base supply, communications), working in the support data processing function (511xx career field), in some fashion.

At the 18.5 year mark, the Air Force rotated me, from a 511xx position with NATO AFCENT, Brunssum, The Netherlands, to a communications squadron, at a base in Texas.

I didn't know that, while I was with NATO, the Air Force, in their infinite wisdom, decided to merge the support data processing functionality into the communications functionality... Still different career fields (MOS), completely different language use (terms, acronyms, etc.)... We had no common ground when it came to understanding one another... Tantamount to putting someone who speaks English only, into a unit that only speaks Russian... Speaking technically, about technical stuff, the communications staff didn't understand me and I didn't understand them.

Also, while I was in NATO, the personal computer (PC) had taken off and PC use, within the Air Force was basically out of control. Few people actually knew how to do much of anything with their new PCs, but they damned sure knew how to requisition them!! There were no controls in place... No one had to justify a "need"... Just order and have funds budgeted to pay for them... The funds didn't even have to be budgeted specifically for A PC, it could come out of any "pot".

Now, the rest of the story...
When I rotated in, as an E-8, into an FTE (full time equivalent (billet)) they made me the Chief of Resource Management, for 'support computers', for the Base... I was also named to be the 'Small Computer Manager' for the Base... Responsible for EVERYTHING related to almost 400 PCs... And I was assigned subordinate to the biggest idiot I ever met, in my entire Air Force career... a Major... A major idiot!!

I had two mid-level sergeants that performed the actual Reaource Management work (Base computer inventory and accountability) and NO knowledge of personal computers... Coming from NATO, I had never even seen one.

But, my two resource management (RM) sergeants knew their jobs and they kept me out of trouble and freed my time, so I ordered a bunch of books and a couple of tool kits and learned to tear PCs down, diagnose problems and fix them. I also learned how to upgrade the hardware, install the software and write software for use on them.

I talked one of my RM sergeants into working part time with me and I arranged for the use of an unused building and he and I physically built it out, as a classroom for 30 students... I arranged to have it completely wired, by promising training positions in our first PC classes... I developed a cirriculum and training plans (syllabuses) and worked out a schedule... We both worked as trainers and trained over 500 base staff in intro and advanced PC classes.

I also developed and implemented strict PC acquisition standards, to stop the pervasive purchase of PCs and establish some semblance of accountability.


Now, back to the idiot...

While I'm busting my ass, trying to rope in this heard of PC goats, my boss keeps turning my lights off!!

For example, I'd get up and walk to the head and return to a dark office... I'd ask people who was turning my lights off and no one knew... Seems no one else was experiencing this phoenonema.

Finally, after about my FIRST MONTH on the job, I mentioned this errant ghostly behavior, during a staff meeting, and Major Idiot says, "I've been trying to teach you a lesson. You're the senior NCO in the squadron, you need to set a good example".

I said, "Of what? Everyone already knows how to turn their lights on and off".

Major Idiot had an underdeveloped opinion that flourescent lights waste MORE energy, when they are left on and unneeded, than it takes to turn them off and then back on.

He had never once said a single word to me... Just played his little game, like the child he was.

I tried numerous times to explain to him that he was wrong, but he knew that couldn't be possible...

I told him, "You can't possibly be the only person in the civilized world that doesn't know how much energy it takes to energize the ballasts and tubes in flourescent lights!! How did you ever make it to Major?".

Major Idiot said, "You're being insubordinate!!".

I said, "Major, I'm dumbfounded!!".

He said, "Prove to me, by close of business tomorrow, that I'm wrong, or I will press charges!!".

The MASH-like staff meeting ended early that day.

I returned to my DARK office, turned on the lights and called the Base Resouce Conservation Officer... Another Major... I started to explain the situation and as soon as I mentioned Major Idiot's name, the Resource Conservation Major said, "He's an idiot... He's on our Resource Conservation Board and all he does is interrupt and give his ridiculous opinions".

I explained the disagreement and he said, "I call him and try to explain this to him".

A few minutes later, Major Idiot came into my office and, to be fair, apologized and told me he had been set straight on the subject... I didn't know him well enough to know just how he really felt.

But, at the next Squadron Commander's Call, he pulled me up on stage and told the entire squadron that I was a treasure... A senior NCO who was willing to stand up when he knew someone/thing was wrong... He said he was going to put me up for a medal.

I told him, in front of the squadron, "Please don't, just let me bask in the knowledge that you value me!!".

Major Idiot was glowing the rest of Commander's Call... I retired about 17 months later and received a third Meritorious Service Medal, for all my hard work with PCs and PC training.

When Major Idiot presented my medal and a framed retirement certificate, he, referred to me as "the senior NCO who saved the Base so much money, by stepping up, under threat to his career, and stopping the rampant waste of energy, by pointing out that it's better to leave fluorescent lights on until you are leaving for the night".

I shook the idiot's hand and thanked him and said, "To be fair, Major, you are the only person who was under the misassumption that it was best to turn fluorescent lights off every time you leave a room. But, you're right... I saved a lot of money by putting a stop to YOU constantly turning lights off".

The Base Commander and all the other senior management had a great laugh, along with everyone else... Even, Major Idiot.



Sorry this is so long... But, it's hard to put this kind of story into an understandable context.


 
Very interesting Danny. The Peter Principle was in full effect it sounds like. I know you are happy to be out of that circus.
 
You took on a Major task Danny, in more ways then one! That sounds like a lot of responsibility and work, then having to deal with Major Idiot to boot.
 
That same Texas tour included a retired communications E-6, who was working as a GS-9... Call him "Clown".

"Clown" was known for yelling and screaming, at his staff, in his staff meetings... And, for some reason, management seemed intimidated by him... I never learned the rest of that story.

Clown was a reserve deputy sheriff, for the county, and loved to flash his reserve badge everywhere he went.

One of my guys (John) and I had to fly to Montgomery, AL, for something... I can't recall what... And we ran into Clown at the airport... He was going to Montgomery too...

This was before 911, so airport security was done somewhat differently... Yet, Clown had to flash that badge to grease us through security... although, security seemed more amused that impressed.

We got to Montgomery and Clown latched on to us and we could never get away from him... I don't drink, so I don't frequent bars either... I would go to my room and chill, while John hung out in the bar... With Clown...

I always suspected John had a drinking problem, but drinking with Clown for 4 days, may have been one of John's 12-step process... He actually seemed to taper off a bit... He was so tired of Clown and his badge and how he flashed it every time they ordered a drink or spoke to anyone or the world turned.

After four days and nights, John and I rushed to the airport and got there ahead of Clown. I went to security and described Clown... Name and appearance and told them he had been flashing a badge and that he acts like he may have stolen it.

We boarded and didn't see Clown until Monday, at work... He came into my office and told the most bizarre short about how security had detained him, at the Montgomery airport, on the premise that he had stolen his badge... Seems he missed his flight while they verified it was real and really belonged to him.

They told him he would be less likely to run into trouble if he didn't flash it unless he was on law enforcement business.



The Peter Principle definitely existed during my last tour... In fact, I was a shoe-in for E-9... I only had to agree to attend the Senior NCO Academy, in residence (had already done it by corespondence course)... I refused and submitted retirement papers and retired, with 20 years, 2 months and 3 days.


One more quick one... my Resource Management (RM) sergeants shared a large office with a comm E-6, Stinky... He loved his cigars (smoking was allowed in offices in those days), farted often and seldom bathed... He worked for Clown, who also worked for Major Idiot.

My RM sergeants complained constantly about Stinky... I would report it to Clown... He would do nothing... I would report it to Major Idiot, he would laugh it off and do nothing.

I received a phone call, in their office one day, and was speaking to someone, when Stinky lit one of those obnoxious cigars... I thought I would choke to death.

I asked my guys to hang around after work and went back to my office to finish my call.

When I returned, Stinky had left for the day... So, my guys and I moved his desk into Clown's office and put a note on Clown's desk that said he could have Stinky move the rest of his junk anytime... As long as he bathed first, was not smoking and didn't fart.

Clown raised hell with Major Idiot and Major Idiot ordered me to move Stinky's desk back... But, I had already spoken to the Base Commander (I provided a lot of PC support to him and his staff) and he had laughed at my approach and assured me that Stinky belonged to Clown, if Major Idiot disagreed, we could always move Stinky in with Major Idiot.

I explained this to Major Idiot, he didn't believe me... So, I told him it was easy to confirm... He didn't confirm it... I never knew whether Major Idiot ever confirmed it... But, Stinky was no longer my problem.

Oh yeah, that was one strange place...
 
While I was deployed to Kosovo in early 2000

We had a daily 100% accountability check on all ammo and sensitive items, the normal stuff, to make sure you didn't lose something like maybe your rifle, nods, or say a live frag. Included in this was a 100% ammo check, to make sure you didn't lose a mag or shoot some ammo without a good reason.

Well, during a live fire range a few of us on the graveyard patrols dropped a few spare mags in our pockets. Just in case. Or for some fun.

I was on the foot patrol at night, 11-7, we only worked the daylight tours for special events, cordon and search, ranges, and other fun times. There was a mounted patrol at night that consisted of two HMMVs 4 guys in each one, they responded to calls of shot fired and any calls from the checkpoints needing back up. The NCO leading the mounted patrol was a d*ckhead, straight up d*ckhead.

One evening we were bored out of our minds on our checkpoint and decided to have some fun. On occasion we would call in to the mounted patrol calls of shots fired near the hospital which was about 300 meters from our checkpoint, just for fun. Eventually the mounted guys caught on. This night armed with a pocket full of spare 5.56mm, we left our checkpoint on foot and patrolled the area around the hospital. While we were on our way back to the checkpoint we decided to swap our mags shoot some rounds through some old cars. That got the attention of another patrol and the radio chatter started, we played right into the joke and got the mounted patrol on a wild goose chase. Since we were already in the area of the "gunfight" we started chatter with the mounted guys, telling them we were responding on foot and there were 4 males feeing the area with rifles, towards the hospital. They went hauling ass through the town and to the back of the hospital, dismounting and entering the hospital looking for four guys with weapons, at like 3 AM. We let them look tough for about an hour before we linked up and told them they were not in the area. The NCO in charge was pissed that we didn't catch them on foot before they got there, he stood at the front of his HMMV acting like an ass, pitching a fit, telling us how we f$$ked up and he should of given it more effort. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.
So he hopped back in his HMMV and took off, we hopped in the second HMMV and followed, about a mile down the road I noticed something in the front grill of the HMMV, the d$ickhead NCO's rifle.

We stopped the HMMV, I jumped out and grabbed it, we caught up. Nothing said.

About ten minutes later his rig came to a screeching halt, he realized he has lost his rifle. He came running back to the HMMV we were riding in and asked if we had seen his rifle, a fully tricked out M16A2, PAC-4, and a red dot. We all plead the fifth.:beer:

He ran back to his HMMV and grabbed the radio and started calling the TOC and telling them he had "lost" his rifle! Before we could stop him over the radio the cat was out of the bag!

We played it off for about another 20 minutes, driving back to the hospital area looking around where we had been parked, one of the other guys finally broke it to him that we had found it and "secured" it for him.

HE WAS PISSED!

We all had to go explain to the CO and 1SGT

It was just the beginning of the f$ck f$ck games in Kosovo.
 
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That's funny. They should have smoked his ass!

I got one, we got a mission to take up the brand new (I'm going to call it APC unit). Can't remember now, aw hell I better not call the unit name. Any way, we had to pick them up in Kuwait either Cp. New York or New Jersey. Big dog and pony show, so we get there, can't find our POC. We waited, and waited, looked for our POC (point of contact) high and low he was no where to be found. Hell we were supposed to have picked them up the day before but they postponed S.P. because they needed another day to have their fancy new cages installed. It protects the APC against RPGs as when its hits the cage the armor piercing portion of it can't reach hull and melt its way through. All the APCs were there with the cages mounted so finally I said F#ck it I'm tiered of waiting we got other people waiting for us too. Got the Sqd. Ldrs. together and told them have the HET drivers figure out how to crank'em up and load them on the trailers. Got them all loaded and bound down and was fixin to hold our brief, when low and behold guess who shows up. Boy he was pissed, oh well, what's he going to do. Finally the crews show up and they get their sh!t together, have their brief and get in their junk. We roll out to the Cp. at the boarder a couple hr. ride, we get there its raining already dark and pretty dang cold for Kuwait in a HMMV with a big hole in the top with no doors. Think it was Dec., it was winter any how and both our crews are soaking wet. Just a rock throw away is the boarder crossing, this is where you do your PCIs, commo checks, load your weapons and give them a list of sensitive items, vehicles and personal. Their BC says the SPs at 0500, yea right, no body crosses before daylight. I tried to tell him, but he assured me they would let him and his new APCs cross when he says...oook. We have our HMMVs parked amongst our HETs with these new APCs on them and the ones they're going to road, crews are preparing their equip. Our sh!ts been ready and our cold wet asses are trying to get some sleep. The crew in the APC to our left are loading a belt in their Mk-19 when one of them drops the hatch on the belt of 40mm grenades. One of them gets the head of a round in his calf and another gets the case in his thigh, thankfully the head has to travel like 15 meters to arm. Sh!t happens when its dark, cold and raining with young guys hyped up getting ready for their first rodeo. We get up there to see if we can give a hand, couple of medics show up and we go back to being cold and miserable. No rest for the weary, next thing you know its like 0330 or so and some inspiring NCO starts yelling at his troops to gather up. Not long after that APCs and trks start firing up, damn what a long ass night. I got to check on the guys then meet up for the brief with everybody anyways, knowing damn well we're not crossing till after daylight. Its a big move so our whole Co. involved and our higher is there trying to be seen. So after the big spill all these APCs, HETs with APCs on them and HMMVs start lining up in serials, with the ones they're going to road up front. The first ones head off to cross, I be damn they won't let them through. After it gets light they let them go, we're behind a group of APCs they're roading. They can't make it far enough on fuel to get to the fuel point and they have jerry cans all over these things, to make matters worse convoy speed is 25mph. We don't get far and they stop to fix one, well our other gun trk pulls up beside us. Now mind you we're in southern Iraq, nothing but desert, no bad guys no nothing. So these guys start piling out these things sprint out into the sand and jump into prone firing position, taking up a defensive perimeter. Their Plt. Ldr. is kneeling down in front of us behind his APC, when my guy hollers at him, this area hasn't been cleared for mines sir. Man he freaked, started hollering for his guys to back track to the APC then hollering at the guys in the ones in front of him and so on. Those poor guys trying to step in the boot prints they made on the way out. That was a sight to see, sh!t there hasn't been a mine out there since probably Desert Storm.
 
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The whole military runs on the NCO's abilities to get the job done. And to add to your comment about leading from the front...Col Butler, a real southern gentleman who got me a direct commission from CWO said to me when I took command of headquarters company, "Your must lead from the front. "You cannot push a rope, you must Pull the rope". I never forgot his example.

While company commander in Germany, several of my troops were getting arrested by the German Police for driving while drunk, easy to do as the German beer was pretty strong. The First Sargeant and I converted a large room in the basement of our HQ into a club for our troops. Very nice with cold beer, pin ball machines, pool tables, and other stuff leased from a German vendor and paid for with the morale and welfare fund we had.


The night of our grand opening we had the senior staff show up with their wives which was fine with us. One of my NCO's, an E-7 just in from his second tour in Vietnam, was enjoying the beer too much and started using a lot of foul language in front of the XO's wife and the other ladies present. I immediately escorted him out and drove him to his quarters where I handed him to his wife and two kids. She was very upset as they just had three years to go for retirement.

The next morning Colonel Torgueson had me in front of his desk and ordered me to Article 15 the soldier. That would have been a career killer and cost him a stripe which would have been impossible to get back before he would retire. I got with the First Sgt. and the Brigade Sargeant Major to get this guy transferred within the week. Every day the Col. asked about the Article 15. I always said we were working on it. We got him out of the Brigade and back state side. The Col. was furious and marked me down on my Officer Efficiency Report no doubt delaying my promotion to Major a year at least but, right is right and the wives were not invited to the club opening. BTW, I had already been recruited by a three letter agency to come to work for them, so fork it. A two combat tour NCO didn't deserve to have that done to him.


This has little to do with the military--You're just a good man.
 
Thanks Idaho Savage for that comment. The NCO was a good troop and didn't deserve the ire of the Colonel or the XO. We have all made stupid remarks or mistakes in our lives and sometimes just need a break or a helping hand. Like the old Beatles song "I get by with a little help from my friends". Hope that song doesn't get stuck in your head. Goodnight.
 

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