So I’m done with Army training, done with the schoolhouse, and no where near finished learning anything, except maybe this one particular thing about notebooks.
Either way, the fact that I requested assignment in Germany or Japan or anywhere outside the continental United States is a matter of public record. Yet, oddly enough, I write this in a pleasant little section of Juarez called “America.” It’s a cozy little spot, with FT Bliss to the east, the Franklin Mountains to the Northwest, and the dry Rio Grande riverbed running along the southern border.
El Paso’s not a bad town, though – it’s older than Texas, which I like. My apartment is less than seven miles from the border, which I also like. And I wasn’t the only lucky soldier to be stationed in the Sun City. The Army is transferring a few brigades down here, and is building new infrastructure accordingly.
I’ll be working with the 9th of the 4th of the 1st Cavalry Division. It’s a scout unit, whose primary mission (in a traditional force-on-force war) is to HUMVEE up on the enemy without being seen, watch them for a while, then radio up someone real quietly and make arrangements for someone else to kill, destroy, and obliterate them.
Luckily, Armor school taught me the fundamentals of such operations, as well as the slightly more fun ones (that involve actual tanks and getting calls on the walkie-talkies and killing, destroying, and obliterating things).
The reality of modern war, however, and the vehicles and weapons systems used and not used to conduct it (read: they don’t fight in tanks much these days, and more’s the pity), is a thorny issue best discussed by those far above my pay grade.
So there you have it: if you’re ever in the Texas Republic, call me up. But before you do, grab a map and echolocate El Paso, because I’m closer to Utah than I am some parts of the Biggest State In The Union Except Alaska.