The Devil's Brigade

I have finally arrived at Fort Riley in northern Kansas. We'll be staying in dorms for a few days before moving out to our training area, Camp Funston. The dorms look like hospital wings with narrow hallways. The smallish rooms have big closets, but no trashcans, hangars, TVs, or phones. Most of us didn't get hot water until the afternoon of the second day here. The rest still have no hot water. Internet access is available at the base exchange, about a third of a mile from our dorms for $4 an hour. But we are allowed beer there.

The temperature has changed a bit from San Diego- 19 degrees F last night, highs in the low to mid 40s. Unfortunately, it will be another day or two until we're issued out cold weather gear. The weatherman gives fair odds for snow late in the week.

We arrived Saturday morning via a US Navy Boeing 737 and were free until today. The arrival was like so many others when you got shipped around on orders. You occupy yourself getting to know your new comrades and trying to figure out what the hell is going on and where the hell the exchange is.

This morning, we hopped on buses and headed for an auditorium for a welcome aboard brief. We were told what our schedule will be, when we'll be flying home, et cetera. Nothing all that informative, really. We should be moving over to our operational training area on Friday, and will then get the weekend off. We did find out that our class will be referred to as "The Devil's Brigade". Scary, huh?

I met the members of my team today as well. All seem very capable and personable, and I look forward to working with them. It's odd to think that these strangers will essentially be my family for the next year. Stranger to realize that I'll probably experience some degree of separation anxiety as we prepare to disband and go home next year.

The day after my last post, I went through medical processing and got the vaccination double-whammy: anthrax in one arm, smallpox in the other. The anthrax injection is the fourth such shot I've received. Normally, the reaction is quite pronounced, leaving an extremely sensitive and hot-to-the-touch, golf-ball sized hard knot in the back of your arm that lingers for a couple of weeks. Nothing different this time except that the reaction spread down my arm a bit, causing some of the nurses to think I might have picked up a staff infection. The redness and pain have since subsided, leaving only the knot. On the other hand, the smallpox site on the other arm is starting to itch rather intensely, as it apparently will for the next few weeks as the infection turns increasingly nasty and eventually closes up and heals, leaving a nice scar a little smaller than a dime. So that's nice.

Spirits here are neutral to high, as most of us are looking forward to the upcoming training. All realize that it will be uncomfortable and tiring, but it will also be rewarding. For myself, I am anxious to get this training behind me and move on to Afghanistan. I'm glad to finally be getting into this fight rather than constantly watching from the sidelines. I am grateful to have been chosen for this task. I truly hope that by doing this job, I will be helping to get the people of Afghanistan on their feet. On their feet so that the current children of Afghanistan need not stand beside my nieces, nephews, and children on the field of battle.