:: Wednesday, June 14, 2006 ::

Things just keep getting better

And better everyday. What can I say? The Army never ceases to amaze me.

So I was tasked today with getting some boxes for our units to pack their stuff in to go home. Simple task. SFC McDougal even called and set everything up for me. All I had to do was go to some building, talk to a CW4, then go to another building and arrange with some SGT the transportation for these boxes. So I set out on my journey in our white chevy pickup thing.

I go to the first building and find the CW4. When I walk in and before I could get out what I was there for, he said, "You must be the guy looking for the boxes!" Hmm....psychic. So I work some stuff out with him, sign a paper, and he even calls the next place I'm going to to make sure that they are ready and can deliver these boxes. So I head out for the next place. Before I can introduce myself to the SGT, she says, "HEY! You're the guy looking for the boxes!" Hmm....

So I sign some more papers and I ask her about delivering the boxes and she says its possible. As we are walking to talk to the other guy I have to see about these boxes, we pass by some other joe sitting and smoking and he informs me that they're truck will be gone for a few hours and it could be later this afternoon before I get can get it. I tell him that's ok as long as I can get the boxes by today. Well, he continues to tell me that I can go over here and get a truck, or go over there and get a truck and if I beg, I can get a truck from over on the other side of post.

I just walk off. I had better things to do than listen to this man. So I go and talk to the other person that I have to talk to and once again, before I can introduce myself, he says "HEY! You're the guy looking for the boxes!"

Me: "Yep. That's me."

Him: "Okay. We'll draw out the boxes, you can pull your truck around to the back here ..."

Me: "Pull my truck around? I thought you guys were delivering these."

Him: "Whoa, guy. We don't deliver. So pull your truck around ..."

Me: "I don't have a truck."

Him: "How do you expect to get these back to your place?"

Me: "I was told you delivered."

Him: "Nope. No delivery. Now if you need a truck, I know where you can get one. If you go to ..."

Then the guy proceeded to tell me the whereabouts of about four or five different trucks. After he finished, he then called some guy to set up a truck for me.

Him: (into the phone) "Yeah, I got a SPC ... uh ... (to me) ... what's your name?"

Me: "Walcutt."

Him: (into the phone) "SPC Walcutt here with ... uh ... (to me) ... who you with?"

Me: [OPSEC]

Him: (into the phone) "He's with [OPSEC] and needs to borrow a flat-bed truck. (moment passes) Uh huh. (another moment passes) Uh huh. (brief pause) He's with uh ... (to me) ... who you with?"

Me: [OPSEC]

Him: (into the phone) "[OPSEC]. Ok. Thanks. (to me) Alright, guy. You're set to go. Just go get that truck and we'll draw your boxes."

Me: "Outstanding."

So I doddle over to the transportation to pick up my newly acquired piece of fine Army motor transportation, a 5-ton flat bed truck. Now believe me, I was ecstatic about this honkin huge pile of metal and diesel fuel. I about peed myself I was so excited. After I calmed myself down, I walked into the transportation office.

Guy 1: "How can I help you?"

Me: "I'm here to get a ..."

Guy 1: "You're the guy looking for the flat-bed!"

Me: "How'd you figure."

Guy 1: "Let me go get some papers." (walks off)

Me: (stands there waiting)

Guy 2: "How can I help you?"

Me: "Umm ... I'm looking for a ..."

Guy 2: "You're the guy looking for the flat-bed! Let me go get some papers." (walks off)

Me: "Ok." (stands there and waits)

Guy 3: "How can I help you?"

Me: "I'm ok. Someone is already helping me."

Guy 3: "Maybe I can help you."

Me: "I'm fine."

Finally Guy 2 wanders back over and starts fumbling with some paperwork, has me sign some stuff and hands me the keys. "Good luck," he says.

It didn't take long for me to realize how over my head I was with this huge truck. But I drank water and drove on and managed to not hit a thing on the next leg of my travels. I did, however, manage to lose a few pieces of my cargo due to the wind. I recovered one piece; the other was found on the side of the road later, crumbled up.

All in all, the "mission" took just under an hour. The other hour was consumed because of my run ins with the transpo guys.

So I go to turn in the truck, walk in the door and much to my surprise, I'm greeted with a ...

Guy 3: "How can I help you?"

Me: "I'm turning in ..."

Guy 3: "The flat bed truck! Let me get some stuff. (fumbles through some papers, grabs one, holds it up) This you?"

Me: "Do I look mexican?"

Guy 3: "Guess not. (fumbles through more papers, grabs another one, holds it up) This you?"

Me: "I'm not black."

Guy 3: Guess not. This you ... nope. (gazed look comes upon his face) Let me go find some more papers. (stumbles off into the back)

Guy 2: "How can I help you?"

Me: "I'm turning ..."

Guy 2: "You're the flat bed truck guy! Follow me."

I don't know how, but apparently everyone had ESP that day and knew me by heart. That, or someone taped some stupid sign to my forehead. So I follow this guy ten feet to another desk and Guy 3 comes back with some papers, holds one up, and says (toward some other guy standing right where I just was) "This you? Wait a minute..."

So Guy 2 fumbles through some papers and finds mine. He tells me that we are going to go check out the truck and see if it is ready to turn in. However, on our way, he proceeds to inform me that I needed to fill up the truck with gas. Now, my trip was only a grand total of three miles
(and that's generous) so its not like I used up a lot of gas. But to keep from a causing a ruckus, I go with the flow.

I hop my happy self into the huge truck and head toward the south gate. For those of you who have been to lovely Camp Shelby, you know that they don't give a lot of leeway on those dividers at the gate. And my huge truck takes up every bit of space there is. So as I'm driving this humongonus truck through the itty bitty drive, an MP stops me and tells me that I need to use the gate meant for semi trucks. Now, I don't know if he wanted me to back up and use that gate, or keep going forward like I was, but I just kept going. I didn't care at that point.

So I gas up the truck, it actually needed a gallon or two, and drive back to the trans office. I walk in, and lo and behold ...

Guy 1: "How can I help you?"

Me: "I'm turning a flat bed truck."

Guy 1: "Ok, let me see here ... (starts fumbling through papers)"

Me: (I notice my paper and slam the keys down on top of them) THAT IS ME!!! (exit stage right)"

What an adventure. And this is just one of many. And this has only been three months. What fun.

God is good. All the time.
Peace

:: Ben 7:33 PM [+] ::
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