Back when I was a young troop at Fort Riley, I was put in charge of a special young soldier. We're going to call him "Bob". I won't mention is actual name on the blog, because there might be a chance that there's a websearch on his name, and quite honestly I don't want to get pulled into any crap that Bob may have started.
Bob was my gunner. Now, I had a team leader, but that team leader was more interested in nailing every female in my company than actually leading his team, so Bob got dumped on me. This was a repeating occurrence, and was one of the reasons I got out of the military after my first hitch. That's another story in and of itself, but I digress.
Bob was a momma's boy. There's no other way to put it. This kid was used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter. Every mistake was not his fault, it was someone the fault of someone else. Every problem was a major catastrophe. Every failure was due to someone else, not this young troop.
Let me give you an example: We were going to a Field Training Exercise. FTX. There was a packing list for every FTX. Part of the Troop Leading Procedures for an FTX was to conduct an inventory of your Soldier's gear to make sure he was bringing everything on the packing list. Everything got laid out in the Soldier's room, and you made sure that every item was there.
So this is Fort Riley. In January. It's friggin' cold, OK? Even if the temperatures weren't horrible, the wind chill was sure to bring things down into sub-zero ranges. You brought your cold weather gear to the field. Period. Failure to do so would result in possible frostbite, chillblains and hypothermia. You didn't joke around with your snivel-gear. So I conduct the inspection, make sure that every troop I was responsible for had their gear laid out, and told them to pack it up and get it ready to go. Bob was included in this inspection.
So we get out to the field. Bob is the gunner, remember? So he's up in the turret. Lots of wind up in the turret, especially when you're doing 45 down a dirt road in the training areas of Fort Riley. Cold weather gear is a must-have. But guess what Bob didn't have? His parka. The one piece of gear you must have if you're riding in the turret of a Humvee in January on Fort Riley.
Now, having conducted the inspection where I made sure that Bob's parka was included in the gear that he must bring, I was out of my mind trying to figure out why Bob didn't have his parka. I racked my brain trying to figure out where I had failed to ensure that Bob didn't have his parka. Did I fail to see it in the inspection? No, my checklist clearly showed where I had not only seen the parka but ensured that I had told him to bring it. Did I fail to mention that you needed a parka in January in Fort Riley? No, that had been part of the pre-movement briefings. Then why the hell didn't Bob bring his damn parka?
You want to know the reason? Would you like to know the excuse he gave me? Because his rucksack was heavy, and so he left his parka behind to keep the weight down.
I'm being serious here. This despite the fact that as MP's, we threw all our gear into a damn vehicle and didn't have to actually hump it all over hell and gone. Bob's rucksack was heavy, don't you know!
And to top it all off, the little shit told me that it was my fault for not double and triple-checking his gear, because being given a direct order to bring his cold weather gear only ONCE wasn't good enough. I guess the briefing where we told him about frostbite and losing various appendages to the cold weather wasn't good enough.
That slimy little shit ended up wearing my parka for the duration of the field problem, because a leader does not let his troops go without gear. I won't say what his punishment was, but rest assured that my wrath did not go unfulfilled, especially as I spent the entirety of the field problem wearing just my BDUs and a polypro shirt. I actually gained quite a bit of fame during that field problem, dealing with Bob and his whining for weeks on end. I think the platoon leadership was amazed that Bob was not only alive at the end of the FTX, but that I had gotten him to actually fulfill his duties while we were out.
The Democrat Party is Bob. They constantly manage to screw things up, then blame everybody but themselves, and then demand that everyone else make up for their lack of brains/brawn/willpower/self-discipline. The GOP is my teamleader, who dumped his responsibility onto me and left me to deal with his failures. I'd like to point out that Bob was wearing MY parka, not my teamleader's gear. Again, there's a reason I got out of the Army after five years.
I'd say Obama is a Bob, but he's not. He's deliberately trying to fuck this country over, and he's succeeding, with the aid and comfort of the Bobs in the GOP.
The Tea Party is me. And you. And everyone who is doing what they are supposed to do, while also trying to make sure that the Bobs of the USA don't fuck us straight into failure.
Bob eventually went AWOL, much to the relief of every person who was responsible for him. He was dropped from the rolls after a month. He was arrested three months later, doing 105 in a 65 MPH zone in his mommy's Mercedes. No, I am not making that up. Not only did his mommy not send her little precious snowflake back to the military when he showed up on her doorstep, she treated him like her precious little boopsie and let him live at home and drive her fancy car until he finally got caught being a dumb-ass once again.
As a conservative, our representation in Congress is mostly AWOL. There are a few folks who have good people in place. Ted Cruz. Mike Lee. My own representative, Raul Labrador. My Senators, who actually vote as the conservative people that they campaigned to be. But the leadership of the GOP? We can't count on them to go AWOL. We have to vote their asses out of Congress.
I doubt we can do so. We're screwed. But we still have to try.
I spent a number of years as a civilian, and I don't regret one single day that I had after I left the Army, The years I spent out of the military taught me more than I can type in one post, and I grew immeasurably. And in the end, I re-enlisted, and made damn sure that I never suffered another Bob, or another team-leader like the one I had. It's time to buck up and do the same on the political front. I've seen report after report that Ted Cruz is one of the most hated Senators. And he's hated by the GOP. He's ostracized by the GOP.
That tells me who we have to make sure gets sent home.