Over at Cassandra's place, we got into a nostalgia-fest in the comments following Cassie's post where she bitch-slaps a self-absorbed whiny Army wife who can't see the big picture because she's surrounded by mirrors... it's all about her. We got into what life was like as a member of a military community - whether a warrior, a spouse, or a "brat."
I was a brat. My sister will no doubt aver that I am using the term in an overly narrow sense, that of "Army Brat" vice the more generic and expansive meaning - which I reject utterly, of course.
The recent discussion on assimilation caused me to have some epiphanies on the subject that are related to being a military child who spent a lot of time overseas, and which will be the subject of a later post. It also caused some serious reminiscing about life on post over the years. Interestingly, during my father's career, if we were stationed near a military installation, we lived on it. We were only on the "local economy" when Dad was doing ROTC assignments and the year-plus he spent in Vietnam.
By contrast, during my career, I never once lived in quarters. I was always "off post." By choice, as well as a result of being *really* tired of moving. Back in the 80's and 90's there was usually a long wait for quarters which would have you waiting over a year to get on post (another pack and ship move) and then you get reassigned about two years later to restart the process. The other reason would be for much the same reason that SWWBO and I refused to buy a house in a neighborhood governed by a Neighborhood Association - I really hate neighbors who take it upon themselves to essentially ensure that you live as they think is proper to live, which is often wrapped up in a insufferable "busybody-ness" that impels them to be nosy and intrusive. If you like that sort of order, fine, live that way, and have a good time. We don't.
But one thing that having that viewpoint has caused me to miss was a certain background noise that made me feel at home because it was always in the background as I grew up. I missed... living by the bugle. I still miss it, if not to the point that I’m going to set up a loudspeaker to play the calls at Castle Argghhh!.
It used to be that military life was governed by the bugle. The bugler woke you up, called you to formation, sent you to chow and church, announced sick call, told you when to start shutting down your work details and get ready for retreat and retiring the colors for the day. It told you to get your butt in barracks and when to turn out the lights.
We don't use nearly as many of those calls as we did in my youth, but we still routinely blow Reveille, Retreat, To The Color, and Taps. And, of course, you hear Taps in the cemeteries, as warriors are laid to their final rest. And when I'm on the Fort or out TDY, those calls drifting across the cantonment are a little sign of home, in that way you remember your youth.
I remember back in the day, when Retreat sounded, people pulled over their cars and stopped. Military personnel would get out of their vehicles and assume Parade Rest, facing in the direction of the Main Post flag pole. Then, when the salute gun fired and To The Color started as the flag was lowered, they would render the hand salute, then everyone would get back in their cars and continue their business. If you were walking, where-ever you were (assuming it was safe to do so) you stopped whatever you were doing and did the same – Parade Rest facing the flag (even if you couldn’t see it) during Retreat, and rendering the hand salute (or Presenting Arms, if armed) when the gun fired and To The Color sounded.
The stopping of cars is a lost tradition here at Fort Leavenworth, which makes it unsafe to try to execute it today, as people get confused (especially visiting civilians) or, worse, people (military *and* civilian) angry at being impeded on their way home.
As late as 1995 at Fort Sill, the MPs would stop traffic around Post Headquarters when the flag was raised or lowered. I don’t know if they still do that down there or not. Around here, you’ll occasionally see people, especially gray-haired people, pull over if they’re in a spot where it’s safe to do so, and get out of their cars.
And, sadly, (and these hosers have always been around) – you’ll find that small group of small people who hover near the exit of their buildings, waiting for it all to be over, rather than stand still and render honors to the Color and the nation it represents – the Color that fellow warriors have died wearing, and make their final journeys covered by. Those people make me sad. I don’t go out of my way to be walking to my car at 5PM, but wherever I am on post at that time of day, I have a sense of where the flagpole is.
And I see I'm not the only one who notices.
noteworthy: "Retreat was first used by the French Army"
heh.
I remember as a recruit at RMC, being marched up to the top of the hill beside the College to watch a sunset ceremony at Fort Henry. There were more than 150 of us in CF uniforms there that day, but there was still room for civilian tourists in the stands. The actors playing the British soldiers of the time went through their drill (keen!), and when the flag was lowered and the bugler played, there were some surprised faces in the stands when all in uniform - actors or military - saluted. I'm not sure the civilians understood just how strong that thread of tradition that connects the past through the present to the future really is in military culture. We still salute during the music that was played before our grandfather's grandfather was born.
I haven't spent nearly as much time on bases as you have, John, but I miss the sounds and rhythms too. I wonder if that nostalgia ever fades, or if it actually grows stronger over time.
PeterT
Admittedly, it's been years since I've been graced with the opportunity to set sole to a Marine Base, but I would be very surprised (and disappointed) if this has changed.
I too have always loved the sound of the bugle, and like an old warhorse, I still respond to the call.
That being said, whomever wrote 'Adjutants Call' was either a long-legged sumbitch, or a sadist, perhaps both.
He left the army for the family's sake, so he once said. Mostly it was money i think. They could barely afford to cover themselves because they had to rent offbase then I came along and changed perspective I suppose. I know he missed my birth by several days due to excercises and to him that's a regret he blamed on the Army but really who cares? Schooling out in the sticks still isn't good and frequent moves wouldn't help much so I suppose education is a real concern. After all the idea of serving your country causing disservice to your family isn't very appealing. Perhaps things have improved with extra services since then.
I guess I'm glad he did leave. While I know now this isn't universal thanks to places like this, he has a rather unpleasant nature which mostly stems from his military time.
As for this pilot's wife, it'd be nice to say she's lonely so she needs someone to bitch to so she doesn't feel the need to communicate so publicly. And should join a group. But from her article it looks like she's busy enough and in groups and indeed enjoys stirring the pot of advocacy. Most of you have already drawn your conclusions. Mine is much simpler. A mini Ann Coulter.
*CRASH-tinkle-WHOOOSH!*
Good firebombing, Argent. Well done!
BWA-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
At the Division change of command, I think he was coming from about a half mile away (7 brigade-size elements, plus the Div HQ Bn on the field - and the Pass in Review took forever)
Man! The Air Force gets to sleep in, eh?
I thought Reveille was at 0600?
You telling me I could have slept in?
The downside? Heh. The loudspeaker was right outside our bedroom window, so we got the timings down perfectly and were not inside except of course, when we were awakened by Reveille. At 7:00 am.
I can, kinda, sorta, empathize even if I don't agree witht he chick Cassie is digging her claws into. Face it, some of us don't handle adversity well. Some of us wig and get 'loud about it'. I take this the same way I take the 'Great Santini'. It's a feeling at the time. It's a look at the not-so-good-things that nobody talks about. IS she whinning? proll'y. But, hell, I only grew up in a freakazoid alchoolic family and I can emapthize with the 'holy chit how did things get untracked from what they should be?' element to her writing.
Yeah, there is an element of the child of the 90s woe-is-me-where's-my-validation crap thing there.
No, I can't empathize or sympathize with Cassie and her anger. Sorry, haven't been there and haven't done that, and sure as hell didn't get the t-shirt. I can kind of see why she's feeling shat upon by this lady though('You mean if I just acted a wee bit pissy I could've had someone hold my hand instead of toughing it out like I did?' The anger that someone is going to get it easier than you did, essentially.) I ain't seeing Cassie as being wrong so much as, well, 'Not Getting It'. Being raised as the 'you can have it all' generation I had a drive you stark raving mad year when that lie was exposed. I'm guessing that the author is having just such an experience and is angling to put together legislation to make it go away(funnily, an attempt to recitify actual failures in the system. I wonder if Cassie saw that elemet? Or simply didn't like the method of 'getting involved'? Coming from a screwed up family, and those around here who know me know the YEARS I've spent trying to help/fix problems only to be more messed up myself as a result thereby; so I kinda get the desire to handle it 'not in house'.).
Why am I coming to this conclusion? The talk we had about the scene fom We Were Soldiers, BB. Current system would seem to be failing in a couple of particulars.
But whadda I know? I'm just gollum.
We didn't hear them at Campbell. We lived south of the airfield and they NEVER flew over us. I hated it. HATED it. Told MacGyver that, should we ever get back there, I want to live near the flight path. I hate not hearing them.
It was silent here when the guys were gone in '06-'07 and it will be silent here again before too long. I am not looking forward to it. I was half tempted last time to head over to the Guard unit and ask them to make more frequent flights over our neighborhood.
I went to the commissary the other day and it was abotu 5 when I was walking out with my bagger - a kind gentleman in a Vietnam cap. The commissary here is directly across the street from HQ and the flagpole - it's impossible to miss Retreat. We had just stepped through the exit door and both of us came to a stop as we heard it. He removed his cap and we stood. About 1/2 way through, a younger bagger came through the door and went to go around us. That kind gentleman - who couldn't have weighed more than a buck fifty, stopped that teenager in his tracks with just a look and a shift of his body weight.
Got the point across.
Around here, if you hear Colors being sounded, it is ok to pull over (safely) and come otu of your car. We do it anytime we hear Colors. Many others do too. I like that they do it here.
BRAT is a reasonably apt description for John's youth.
He'll probably blame the Meriwether genome, too.
Ry, when Cassie and I were 'young' wives, there weren't a lot of things in place to support the family or even help the spouse. There are now. What the gretch with this 'woman' is is that while she wants to make a difference, she is wanting to do it her way, thinking that all Army/military wives are treated the same. Not.So. We have good memories because we went out and made them. She is an activist seeking a government solution to what she thinks is the 'victimizing' of military spouses. Uh, I don't get PAID to be married to my husband or to keep the home fires burning. But there are compensations and for right now, it isn't enough for her. That is what keeps coming across. It is all about her perceptions, which based on what I have read, are not correct and she is missing a few things.
For an sampler, didja hear how he came by the nickname.......
All proceeds will be donated to a charity of my choice....
Heheheheheheheh.......
That being said, and (incomprehensible, non-confirmation notwithstanding), WHO was the FIRST athelete, yes him, to win a State Title for a newly established High School in Mizzourah circa 1974?