Disclaimer - I never said my blog would be G-rated. This is my place to post observations, thoughts, and comments in my own words. Quite frankly, it would be impossible for me to paint an accurate portrait of my experience here if I was sanitizing my descriptions. Many of you know that I love to observe human behavior and can spend hours people-watching and engaging total strangers in conversation. I'm not a Sigmund Freud wannabe, just enjoy noting human behavioral patterns. There's no place like the Army to see some extremes.
I hope the title for today caught your eye. I'll get straight to the subject. All my friends out there who've served (or are serving) and have deployed will completely relate. Alright so here it is. All of you realize that the military is predominately male. This means that the male/female ratio is never favorable. When a unit is not deployed this can be mitigated somewhat by the local women (cliche around military posts is that the local women are all divorced, have kids, are looking for a husband, etc.). Joe (generic for male enlisted soldier) is always on the make and many times uses poor judgement when it comes to women. Unfortunately when a unit deploys the odds for Joe become much worse. Arriving at a FOB in Iraq, the ratio is now around 10:1 (including civilian contractors). Women who were maybe a "5" on the 1-10 scale back in the states are now a "10+" in the eyes of hard up Joe. The end result for deployed Joe is that every single female has a gaggle of three or more Joes. All of them think they're "in like Flynn". They form their fire team around the female in a 3-5 man stack. There's the loud and obnoxious ringleader Joe, the Joe who tries to steal the spotlight from ringleader Joe, and the silent Joe who thinks if he just bides his time the girl will notice him. That's the basic formation. However, their teamwork always leads to the same sad result - perpetual cock block. Just like two meatheads interested in the same girl at a rave, no Joe will leave for fear of losing out. Basically, it boils down to "if I'm not getting any I'll be damned if my squad mates are getting any." I've watched this play out everywhere - the mess hall, the PX, the gym, the MWR, and the list goes on. It's no wonder that I walked into a "port-o-jon" the other day to see the wall emblazoned with "Welcome to the Whack Shack". Yep, Joe is hard up. Every FOB has maybe one or two gobblers, very few hens, and lots of jakes.
Now this doesn't mean that Joe never has his opportunity to have exclusivity. His behavior becomes extremely territorial in times like this. Case in point - After work I went to the Speicher gym (a very nice facility that is a well-renovated gym from previous management). While I was getting my workout on I ran into an old friend. I hadn't seen her since I was a lieutenant. She's now a battalion commander here and apparently still single. As it was a chance encounter I didn't realize she was working out with someone. It didn't take more than 5-seconds for Alpha Male Prick (rank unknown) to position himself between my friend and me. He makes certain to introduce himself in a booming voice, all the while flexing. I could see that he felt threatened and I thought "easy dawg, no competition here, your monopoly is secure." While it was nice to see my old friend, at the same time I felt sorry for her. How I would have loved to introduce her to some of my intellectual, intelligent friends back in Providence. I abruptly ended the chat and got on with my workout. As I walked away I could almost hear the silverback roar and beat his chest in triumph. (I believe it's scientific fact that gorillas have tiny peckers) In the course of my workout I overheard him repeat the same marking of his territory several times. Oh it's a scene played out multiple times a day, day after day, on every FOB in Iraq.
Back to reality though... After my workout I headed to the DFAC for supper. The medevac helo-pad is on the way. Unlike LSAA, the medevac lands in full view of anyone walking in the area. Just as I was walking past I noticed the hospital staff staging on the edge of the pad. I looked around and spotted the Blackhawk inbound. I stopped in my tracks and watched. Once the bird landed the staff rushed out to remove the patients. They worked for some time securing a motionless, critically wounded patient before wheeling him in. The crew chief sprinted in with them then a short time later returned and the helicopter left. Everything then became earily quiet. At that moment I said a prayer - for the wounded soldiers, for their families, and for everyone else back home. It's easy to forget in your day to day life about the extreme sacrifices being made over here. No matter what your religious belief please take just a moment every day to remember the men and women in uniform. They remember you every hour of every day.
Later in the DFAC I sat near a table where a bunch of soldiers (8 male, 2 female - see my ratio quotient above) were enjoying supper and laughing and carrying on. At that moment everything seemed so normal. I felt as though I could have just walked out of the DFAC and gone straight back to my home in Providence. As I stepped outside I snapped back to reality.
I hope the title for today caught your eye. I'll get straight to the subject. All my friends out there who've served (or are serving) and have deployed will completely relate. Alright so here it is. All of you realize that the military is predominately male. This means that the male/female ratio is never favorable. When a unit is not deployed this can be mitigated somewhat by the local women (cliche around military posts is that the local women are all divorced, have kids, are looking for a husband, etc.). Joe (generic for male enlisted soldier) is always on the make and many times uses poor judgement when it comes to women. Unfortunately when a unit deploys the odds for Joe become much worse. Arriving at a FOB in Iraq, the ratio is now around 10:1 (including civilian contractors). Women who were maybe a "5" on the 1-10 scale back in the states are now a "10+" in the eyes of hard up Joe. The end result for deployed Joe is that every single female has a gaggle of three or more Joes. All of them think they're "in like Flynn". They form their fire team around the female in a 3-5 man stack. There's the loud and obnoxious ringleader Joe, the Joe who tries to steal the spotlight from ringleader Joe, and the silent Joe who thinks if he just bides his time the girl will notice him. That's the basic formation. However, their teamwork always leads to the same sad result - perpetual cock block. Just like two meatheads interested in the same girl at a rave, no Joe will leave for fear of losing out. Basically, it boils down to "if I'm not getting any I'll be damned if my squad mates are getting any." I've watched this play out everywhere - the mess hall, the PX, the gym, the MWR, and the list goes on. It's no wonder that I walked into a "port-o-jon" the other day to see the wall emblazoned with "Welcome to the Whack Shack". Yep, Joe is hard up. Every FOB has maybe one or two gobblers, very few hens, and lots of jakes.
Now this doesn't mean that Joe never has his opportunity to have exclusivity. His behavior becomes extremely territorial in times like this. Case in point - After work I went to the Speicher gym (a very nice facility that is a well-renovated gym from previous management). While I was getting my workout on I ran into an old friend. I hadn't seen her since I was a lieutenant. She's now a battalion commander here and apparently still single. As it was a chance encounter I didn't realize she was working out with someone. It didn't take more than 5-seconds for Alpha Male Prick (rank unknown) to position himself between my friend and me. He makes certain to introduce himself in a booming voice, all the while flexing. I could see that he felt threatened and I thought "easy dawg, no competition here, your monopoly is secure." While it was nice to see my old friend, at the same time I felt sorry for her. How I would have loved to introduce her to some of my intellectual, intelligent friends back in Providence. I abruptly ended the chat and got on with my workout. As I walked away I could almost hear the silverback roar and beat his chest in triumph. (I believe it's scientific fact that gorillas have tiny peckers) In the course of my workout I overheard him repeat the same marking of his territory several times. Oh it's a scene played out multiple times a day, day after day, on every FOB in Iraq.
Back to reality though... After my workout I headed to the DFAC for supper. The medevac helo-pad is on the way. Unlike LSAA, the medevac lands in full view of anyone walking in the area. Just as I was walking past I noticed the hospital staff staging on the edge of the pad. I looked around and spotted the Blackhawk inbound. I stopped in my tracks and watched. Once the bird landed the staff rushed out to remove the patients. They worked for some time securing a motionless, critically wounded patient before wheeling him in. The crew chief sprinted in with them then a short time later returned and the helicopter left. Everything then became earily quiet. At that moment I said a prayer - for the wounded soldiers, for their families, and for everyone else back home. It's easy to forget in your day to day life about the extreme sacrifices being made over here. No matter what your religious belief please take just a moment every day to remember the men and women in uniform. They remember you every hour of every day.
Later in the DFAC I sat near a table where a bunch of soldiers (8 male, 2 female - see my ratio quotient above) were enjoying supper and laughing and carrying on. At that moment everything seemed so normal. I felt as though I could have just walked out of the DFAC and gone straight back to my home in Providence. As I stepped outside I snapped back to reality.
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