Memoirs of a desk jockey
It’s not often one would complain about being promoted to a higher-level position. However, in the military it’s the lower-level units (platoons, teams, etc) that actually conduct operations and most directly impact the war. Higher level commanders, while having much more responsibility, just don’t get outside the wire as often. They direct larger-scale operations and provide supervision to the units actually doing the grunt-work. This makes staff and support jobs undesirable to most Marines.
Such is the case with me. I deployed to OIF as a team leader, and my team often took part in operations that directly influenced the insurgency and the Iraqi people. You have been reading stories and viewing pictures of this experience via my blog for the better part of four months now. I was actually extremely lucky to hold this position, as lieutenants are not normally billeted as team leaders. My team was a little different, however, and I felt very lucky to be given the chance to lead it.
My unit had planned to send my boss back to the US early in order to be present for the birth of his first child, leaving his assistant (another lieutenant, my roommate) and the senior enlisted Marine to run the show at our workplace. At some point a stink arose about the feasibility of doing this, with a key question being “Who will replace him?†It even reached the point that it looked doubtful he might be able to return early. Not wanting to see this happen, I proposed the idea that I move up from my position as a team leader and help run our workplace after he departed. The staff non-commissioned officers (SNCOs, senior enlisted) on my team had proven more than capable of taking over in my stead. This was amenable to all, and has since come to pass.
This is my new room, the previous abode of my boss. I’m still not done
re-organizing and cleaning, but it’s already
paying huge dividends inliving space.
Now I am the assistant officer in charge of my workplace. The main duty this involves is being a “watch officer†for half the day. I work the night shift (midnight until noon). I have a few administrative duties in the form of sending out some mandatory emails and reports, but I am really just here to make decisions in case poop hits the prop. Everyone here has a firm handle on his/her job, and things run pretty smoothly.
The unfortunate consequence is that I will no longer gallivant around the Iraqi countryside in search of insurgents. While I’m sure this delights many of my loved ones, it is certainly a morale killer for me. Being involved with actual combat operations here has been one of the best experiences of my life. Seeing the effects of this war (both positive and negative) on the Iraqi people has been truly enlightening. To have been able to lay hands on the enemy and bring insurgents to justice is an indescribable feeling. I am sad to see it slip away, never to be heard from again. However, I am more than happy to take the hit since it means a friend will be present for the birth of his first child.
I will still be involved with our team operations here, but in a supervisory position of all our teams, not actually leading one. I will still get to take part in the great things they do and congratulate them every time we break the c-wire to let their HMMWV back into the yard, but I won’t be out there with them. Barring unforeseen changes or other fecal hurricane situations I will be doing this for the remainder of my time here, a little under three months.
Now I’m off to deposit my laundry (Hmm…deposit. I wonder if it’ll accrue any interest. Maybe I’ll pick it up tomorrow and I’ll have an extra pair of socks in the bag. OK, I guess that was lame.). Soon I’ll be eating lunch, my third and final meal of the day. I’ve never worked a night shift before; it’s quite a change for me. I’ve already bit the dust trying to run at night. I’m going to loose a toenail over that mistake. It’s also strange waking up at 9-10 PM and starting your day with PT, just as many are ending their day with PT. Perhaps the most depressing aspect of the night shift is going outside around 6 AM to see the sun has risen. Part of me still thinks “Maybe you don’t really have to work all night. Maybe you’ll really go home and go to sleep.†On a positive note, multiple recent births of geese have tripled the goose population here. If we stick around Camp Fallujah for a few more years we’ll have to export some of them to Ramadi, lest we be overrun. I’d say the geese stand about as good a chance of reclaiming the base as the mujahadeen.
A recent birth of two separate gaggles tripled the goose population of
Camp Fallujah.
Congrats on the new room! I am new to your blog and have found it most informative. My boyfriend is out there with you I guess. He is with 1/25. Are you with them? Sorry I guess I have more questions than anything for you since I don’t hear from him much.
Once again Congrats! and thanks for all the info…puts my mind at ease…kinda.