It was 2:30 AM and I was staring at a dimly lit toughbook screen coated in dust. I was working in the Headquarters (HHC) Command Post (CP) at Forward Operating Base (FOB) Summerall on a Concept of Operation (CONOP). For the last 10 minutes however, I had been severely struggling to keep my eyes focused. I began to think, "How the hell did I get into this mess." I was stressed out and had been working for the past five hours on the same con-op. I was at the most tedious point, which meant reading long intel documents on information regarding the individuals being targeted in the con-op. I was tired and noticed that the dull hum of the AC (Air Conditioned) fan was beginning to fade out. As I sat in silence, the words on the screen began to double and overlap making reading a sentence impossible. Then it started to get dark and I was overtaken by what seemed to be a better place, the unconscious place…
BAM! The door into the CP opens, and reality snaps back into focus. "Oh, ****." was my first though as I saw my commanding officer (CO). I hadn't finished writing up the operation that was due to be briefed tomorrow morning. He couldn't sleep because this operations was supposed to be done hours ago when he wanted a large analysis portion on desired effects of their capture. We are taking down two well-connected High Value Individauls (HVI) whom we'd been watching and carefully collecting intel on for the past 4 months. In a pissed off tone he asked, "Are you done with the analysis yet?" I stared back like a deer in headlights curious to know if he had actually caught me sleeping or not. I blinked and and stuttered … "Uh, Uh, Sir, I have been waiting for Staff Sergeant (SSG) Mattis to send me an analysis on the reports I gave him." This was an excuse, or more rather a half-lie. I had relied on the SSG's analysis write-ups before, but they would always end up in large scale rhetoric that had nothing to do with the reporting given. It was simply not useful when trying to send an Iraqi to jail for more then the 14 days. Why 14 days? That's how long most of our targets would be held for in the Iraqi jails. Therefore it was important we got the intel "right" this time. The military taught me that I had to rely on myself more often then not and I guess this case was nothing different. My real excuse was that I earlier had an hour long fight over the phone with my girlfriend and was flustered. This may have been a legitimate reason but excuses like that don't go very far in the military. **** only rolls down hill.
I wanted to divert his attention from the analysis portion so I began to show my CO something else I had been working on and was finished with. Abruptly, he cut me off and began to demand an explanation as to why the analysis wasn't finished yet. In his lengthy lecture I zoned out and began to remember the first thing the Drill Sergeant asked us, "Who here's got a girlfriend?" All the fresh young 18 year olds out of high school brazenly raise their hands as they think of their high school sweetheart. I didn't raise my hand but I was thinking smugly "Could never happen to me." The Drill Sergeant then scoffs and remarks cruelly "Not anymore ya don't. But don't YOU worry! Sooner ya'll realize that you're better off wit'out them... The better off you'll be." I knew they were right but my thinking at the time was clouded in arrogance. Too late for that advice now.
When he was done verbally assaulting my character he stared in anger. The room's atmosphere became heavy and my breathing seemed labored. He was waiting for my next backpedaling statement so that he could to tear it to shreds. I realized where that was going, so instead I took a deep breadth, swallowed, and said "No excuse Sir, I will have it finished within the next half hour." His face eased up a bit and his stare shifted away from my eyes. He said "It better be." and left. "No, or else?" as I thought of what kind of horrible details he could put me on or the 20 page inane writing assignments he had given me before for ****-ups. All I knew was that I didn't want to fail.
I was now alert and wide awake. The adrenaline that keeps somebody awake feels that same as the adrenaline that kicks in when being shot at in a HUMVEE turret. I picked up the SIPR phone and called our company command post out at the largest oil refinery In Iraq. A half - asleep private answered with the standard operating procedure (SOP) greeting. "This is BOR (Bayji Oil Refinery) CP. Private Rothley speaking. How may I help you Sir or Mam?" I shouted "GET ME LT. BAUR!" He slowly replied "Wait One." apparently unnerved by my shouting. I stared at the big cheap analogue clock hanging on the wall. It was 2:34 and I had the better part 20 minutes to finish the operation for my commanders review. I quietly spoke to the empty phone while shaking my head in anger, "…where the **** is he?" I could vaguely hear the muffled radio chatter going on at the Refinery CP. This seemed like a ****ing eternity because stress was ruining my ability to have patience. I hear ruffling as Lt. Baur picks up the phone and brings it to his mouth and says "Yeah man, Whats up?"
I want to scream at him because Lt. Baur was supposed to come back with us from BOR CP. He was the OIC (Officer in Charge) of our intelligence cell. He knew we had to finish the operation that our Commander was briefing tomorrow but let me do all the work. He let me do the work because he always fell below the standard when giving our Commander his work. Our intel cell, formed by my CO, was already down one man, a college educated enlisted Soldier who was the normal "go to guy" on these kind of operations. He was currently on leave so Baur couldn't have screwed me over more. He opted out and stayed at BOR CP because he could do whatever he wanted when our CO wasn't there. Yet, since he is an officer I refrain from yelling and calmly say "Captain Davila wants this operation in a half hour on his desk for corrections or it's OUR ass." By "our" I really meant mine, but he didn't know that. Instantly, the current demeanor of Baur shifted to serious when he hurriedly asked "What do we have to do?" I gave him instructions on exactly what files I needed him to find and email them to me. Then I hung up the phone... This way I could work with the reporting I already had while he scoured the Secret Internet Protocol Router Network (SIPRnet) ftp drives for reports I could use. I just had effectively given an Officer an order and not even realized it.
As 2:58 rolled around I was printing out the last page and ran to our Captain's door. I awaited eagerly after knocking since I had made the deadline. He opens the door wide enough to see his face. He peers at me with his eye's squinted half shut and quickly grabs the 20 page operation and turns away closing his door. "Mission Complete." I thought as I stared at the door shutting in my face. I slowly turned and walked down the hall to my room. As I took off my boots, which had been on for 20+ hour period, their smell filled the room. I laid down and smiled. A quick last thought ran through my head, "What a disgusting smell to be associated with the greatest thing imaginable... sleep."
BAM! The door into the CP opens, and reality snaps back into focus. "Oh, ****." was my first though as I saw my commanding officer (CO). I hadn't finished writing up the operation that was due to be briefed tomorrow morning. He couldn't sleep because this operations was supposed to be done hours ago when he wanted a large analysis portion on desired effects of their capture. We are taking down two well-connected High Value Individauls (HVI) whom we'd been watching and carefully collecting intel on for the past 4 months. In a pissed off tone he asked, "Are you done with the analysis yet?" I stared back like a deer in headlights curious to know if he had actually caught me sleeping or not. I blinked and and stuttered … "Uh, Uh, Sir, I have been waiting for Staff Sergeant (SSG) Mattis to send me an analysis on the reports I gave him." This was an excuse, or more rather a half-lie. I had relied on the SSG's analysis write-ups before, but they would always end up in large scale rhetoric that had nothing to do with the reporting given. It was simply not useful when trying to send an Iraqi to jail for more then the 14 days. Why 14 days? That's how long most of our targets would be held for in the Iraqi jails. Therefore it was important we got the intel "right" this time. The military taught me that I had to rely on myself more often then not and I guess this case was nothing different. My real excuse was that I earlier had an hour long fight over the phone with my girlfriend and was flustered. This may have been a legitimate reason but excuses like that don't go very far in the military. **** only rolls down hill.
I wanted to divert his attention from the analysis portion so I began to show my CO something else I had been working on and was finished with. Abruptly, he cut me off and began to demand an explanation as to why the analysis wasn't finished yet. In his lengthy lecture I zoned out and began to remember the first thing the Drill Sergeant asked us, "Who here's got a girlfriend?" All the fresh young 18 year olds out of high school brazenly raise their hands as they think of their high school sweetheart. I didn't raise my hand but I was thinking smugly "Could never happen to me." The Drill Sergeant then scoffs and remarks cruelly "Not anymore ya don't. But don't YOU worry! Sooner ya'll realize that you're better off wit'out them... The better off you'll be." I knew they were right but my thinking at the time was clouded in arrogance. Too late for that advice now.
When he was done verbally assaulting my character he stared in anger. The room's atmosphere became heavy and my breathing seemed labored. He was waiting for my next backpedaling statement so that he could to tear it to shreds. I realized where that was going, so instead I took a deep breadth, swallowed, and said "No excuse Sir, I will have it finished within the next half hour." His face eased up a bit and his stare shifted away from my eyes. He said "It better be." and left. "No, or else?" as I thought of what kind of horrible details he could put me on or the 20 page inane writing assignments he had given me before for ****-ups. All I knew was that I didn't want to fail.
I was now alert and wide awake. The adrenaline that keeps somebody awake feels that same as the adrenaline that kicks in when being shot at in a HUMVEE turret. I picked up the SIPR phone and called our company command post out at the largest oil refinery In Iraq. A half - asleep private answered with the standard operating procedure (SOP) greeting. "This is BOR (Bayji Oil Refinery) CP. Private Rothley speaking. How may I help you Sir or Mam?" I shouted "GET ME LT. BAUR!" He slowly replied "Wait One." apparently unnerved by my shouting. I stared at the big cheap analogue clock hanging on the wall. It was 2:34 and I had the better part 20 minutes to finish the operation for my commanders review. I quietly spoke to the empty phone while shaking my head in anger, "…where the **** is he?" I could vaguely hear the muffled radio chatter going on at the Refinery CP. This seemed like a ****ing eternity because stress was ruining my ability to have patience. I hear ruffling as Lt. Baur picks up the phone and brings it to his mouth and says "Yeah man, Whats up?"
I want to scream at him because Lt. Baur was supposed to come back with us from BOR CP. He was the OIC (Officer in Charge) of our intelligence cell. He knew we had to finish the operation that our Commander was briefing tomorrow but let me do all the work. He let me do the work because he always fell below the standard when giving our Commander his work. Our intel cell, formed by my CO, was already down one man, a college educated enlisted Soldier who was the normal "go to guy" on these kind of operations. He was currently on leave so Baur couldn't have screwed me over more. He opted out and stayed at BOR CP because he could do whatever he wanted when our CO wasn't there. Yet, since he is an officer I refrain from yelling and calmly say "Captain Davila wants this operation in a half hour on his desk for corrections or it's OUR ass." By "our" I really meant mine, but he didn't know that. Instantly, the current demeanor of Baur shifted to serious when he hurriedly asked "What do we have to do?" I gave him instructions on exactly what files I needed him to find and email them to me. Then I hung up the phone... This way I could work with the reporting I already had while he scoured the Secret Internet Protocol Router Network (SIPRnet) ftp drives for reports I could use. I just had effectively given an Officer an order and not even realized it.
As 2:58 rolled around I was printing out the last page and ran to our Captain's door. I awaited eagerly after knocking since I had made the deadline. He opens the door wide enough to see his face. He peers at me with his eye's squinted half shut and quickly grabs the 20 page operation and turns away closing his door. "Mission Complete." I thought as I stared at the door shutting in my face. I slowly turned and walked down the hall to my room. As I took off my boots, which had been on for 20+ hour period, their smell filled the room. I laid down and smiled. A quick last thought ran through my head, "What a disgusting smell to be associated with the greatest thing imaginable... sleep."
