Reality rocks

The military is huge on education for its people, soldiers and civilians, even in a war zone and a number of schools specialize in bringing the classroom to the field. Central Texas College and the University of Maryland are a few. Recently just for kicks I signed up for a class on rebuilding engines. Cars have always been an interesting hobby for me but having spent most of my childhood running barefoot through the forest instead of under a hood, there is a lot I still have to learn. The class is held in a creaky old workshop, a ramshackle building made from 2x4’s with corrugated steel walls and ceilings full of shrapnel holes. It is stuffed with loads of odd mechanical pieces long forgotten by the military who used the building as a maintenance facility. Picture a war-time version of an old barn full of junk. Awesome.

Not too long ago as I was sitting in the class listening to the cold winter wind whistle through the holes and the wood creaking overhead, my day kind of flashed through my mind. It started with a 0400 wakeup soon followed by a 2.5 hour flight in our rugged old MI-8 choppers across the fabled Registan desert (otherwise known as the “red desert”) and continued with the 2 hour struggle with some Sri Lankans to try to get our choppers fueled. An emergency medical evacuation, blowing dust storms, an angry idiot or two, then the long flight back home where we arrived just in time for the briefing for the following day’s mission. All of this was accomplished to a diverse soundtrack of excellent flying music. Then it was off to the famous Kandahar Boardwalk that I helped build years ago, for some pizza because we missed lunch. Then it was a race back to my compound to grab my books and tools and head off to class. The instructor has a loaded weapon on his thigh, there are weapons and grenade launchers lying all over the place, we’re tearing apart engines. Then we took a break for dinner and I walked over and signed my name to a sheet of paper and walked in for a free meal of rice and curry and orange juice. I sat down next to and talked to some really nice girls with guns (female soldiers actually, girls nonetheless) and then it was back to engines. How lucky am I??? Guns, cars, helicopters, girls, amazing scenery, and ridiculous money for a single guy. Life is just plain awesome sometimes.

Haha tomorrow I’ll probably be back to being Mr. Grumpus dreaming of a normal life. That’s the thing I’ve realized about extraordinary circumstance, it isn’t supposed to be permanent. Ordinary is the only way to go in the long run. So as much as I love all of this, someday I’m gonna have to move on.

*sigh*