# Case Study:  Revolution



## Marauder06 (Apr 27, 2013)

This is the start of a new case study. For those of you unfamiliar with how this works, I start a story loosely based on personal experiences and develop it based on your responses. This is a complete work of fiction and unless specified otherwise, none of the units, situations, or people mentioned are real.

 The purpose of these case studies is to provide an entertaining venue to discuss military leadership. You should feel free to chime in with your suggestions, comments, observations and questions; that’s what really makes these fun for everyone. At the end of the case study, I’ll wrap it all up and talk briefly about how the case study compared to what happened (or didn’t happen) in real life.

 These cases take time (in some instances, “a lot” of time) so no promises on when it will get wrapped up. I’ll go ahead and just say that I’ll work on this as I get time, and it will be finished when it gets finished; no promises.
Everyone is encouraged to participate in this thread and to offer suggestions, observations, and comments either about specific leadership-related themes or the plot in general.

 This story takes place immediately after the events related in “Sun Tzu"
 case study: http://www.shadowspear.com/vb/threads/case-study-sun-tzu-iii-31.14918/

/////

If there was a more useless, demeaning, and utterly worthless job for a Military Intelligence captain in the entire Division, Captain Scott Faith, formerly of the 2nd Special Forces Group, knew that he would be there instead of here in the 116th Transportation Brigade. Outmaneuvered by Major Dudley, or “The Dud” as he was unaffectionately known in his and CPT Faith’s former unit, Faith found himself not only cast out of his job supporting Special Forces, but also in the unenviable position of working for a man he totally despised.

The Dud, with whom Faith had frequently clashed in his previous assignment, had become the assistant to the Division G2, the senior intelligence officer in the Division. Traditionally, the Assistant G2 was responsible for making the assignments for all of the company-grade (i.e. lieutenants and captains) in the Division. The Dud took great pleasure in choosing for Faith a job that was 1) on the most remote section of post; 2) in a unit that wasn’t on jump status; 3) was a combat service support job; and 4) was subordinate to someone else. So, after clearing 2nd Group, CPT Faith reported to the 116th Trans and his new boss, the Brigade Executive Officer, Major Everly. MAJ Everly, Faith found, was not a bad guy. But he was a TERRIBLE officer. Having been passed over three times for promotion to the next higher grade of lieutenant colonel, MAJ Everly was merely marking time until his mandatory separation from active duty. Fat and hopelessly out of shape, Everly showed up late for work, regularly missed scheduled meetings, and spent most of his time on Internet job-hunting sites. He also never failed to miss the “mandatory” morning PT sessions. But he was not malicious, and in his own way took care of CPT Faith and the others working in the brigade staff. 

Faith didn’t mind that Everly was a total slacker. In fact, his hands-off approach to… everything… meant that Faith got to pretty much run the Brigade staff. Faith was, in fact, the senior officer in the staff after Everly. There was only one other captain on the staff, the Brigade S3, a position usually held by a senior major or even a lieutenant colonel. The rest of the brigade staff was filled out with lieutenants, or the officer positions were vacant. This was in part because the Brigade was non-deployable and had only “garrison” responsibilities. It was also because the Brigade was scheduled to be de-activated in six months, and most of the officers (well, the good ones at least) had been shipped off to other units. And, Faith had to admit, it was in part because no one gave a shit about the unit.

But Faith did give a shit. Although he had made the decision to submit his paperwork to resign his commission, he was still and officer and comported himself like a professional. He also expected everyone around him to act like a professional officer as well. So he organized five-day-a-week officer PT, which everyone including the brigade commander (but not MAJ Everly) scrupulously attended. Faith organized by-weekly Officer Professional Development courses, with the responsibility for these events rotating through the various staff sections in the Brigade. He ran ranges, led training exercises, and even planned the Brigade’s first ever dining-out. In short, he did everything he could to keep his mind off the fact that he gotten fired from the job that would likely have been the most important assignment of his career.

And oh yeah, that part about “working for a man he totally despised?” Well, while it was true that MAJ Everly was technically Faith’s direct supervisor, because he was a hopeless wreck of an officer and because he was a non-intel officer and because he was due to get separated at any time, the Division G2 thought it would be in Faith’s interests to have a different “rater” on his Officer Evaluation Report, and assigned his Division Assistant S2 to figure out who it should be. Major Dudley said he would take one for the team and assume the responsibility for being CPT Faith’s rater. So now was Faith not only in the worst job in Division, he had the worst rater in Division as well. Not that he really cared, since he was getting out soon anyway. But it was something that grated him. The Dud made Faith report monthly in order to receive “performance counseling,” which usually involved The Dud inventing a hopeless array of tasks that Faith was to perform over the next month, and a demand to know why the hopeless array of tasks from the previous month was not accomplished. The Dud hoped to provoke Faith into over-reacting or to at least get under his skin, but it didn’t happen. Faith was long past caring.


----------



## pardus (Apr 28, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> These cases take time (in some instances, “a lot” of time)


 
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


----------



## Mac_NZ (Apr 28, 2013)

If Faith doesn't shank/bottle/beat/bum rape that sack of shit of a Major in this one I'm going to download an IP spoofer and register 5 accounts a day pretending I'm a 15 year old kid who knows all about the SOF world from playing COD4, I'll do it Mara!!! I'll have you so busy banning fake annoying kids you will finally have an excuse to not be finishing the case study!



Marauder06 said:


> These cases take time (in some instances, “a lot” of time) so no promises on when it will get wrapped up. I’ll go ahead and just say that I’ll work on this as I get time, and it will be finished when it gets finished; no promises.


 
Translation from Officerese:

When you all start getting into it like a single mother with 5 screaming kids devouring "50 shades of grey" and a pizza I'll put the brakes on and post nothing, I'll laugh at your weak attempts to cajole me into carrying on with it and give weak arsed excuses about spanish papers and shit. When you have finally given up and moved on with your lives I'll post more. Then I'll laugh at you fools getting all strung out again waiting for more of the story. I am George R.R. Martin of the case study genre...


----------



## pardus (Apr 28, 2013)

Mac_NZ said:


> If Faith doesn't shank/bottle/beat/bum rape that sack of shit of a Major in this one I'm going to download an IP spoofer and register 5 accounts a day pretending I'm a 15 year old kid who knows all about the SOF world from playing COD4, I'll do it Mara!!! I'll have you so busy banning fake annoying kids you will finally have an excuse to not be finishing the case study!
> 
> 
> 
> ...


----------



## digrar (Apr 28, 2013)

The torment of wondering if you should click on the link, or just ignore it for 7 or 8 months so it's almost half way started. :-/


----------



## pardus (Apr 28, 2013)

I've resolved to ridicule these for the first few posts, then ignore forever. Laughing whenever I see someone post in the thread every month or so when I hit 'what's new?'.


----------



## x SF med (Apr 28, 2013)

pardus said:


> View attachment 8298


 
Oh, No!!!  the ex-Kiwi turned American soldier almost NCO has taken over the clip art portion of Mara's work load.... we're in some deep kimchi now...  the world is closing in on the final days....


----------



## x SF med (Apr 28, 2013)

Faith, in deep despair, embraces Islam, straps a bomb to his Load vest, walks into Dud's office and detonates the vest.   The End. No paradise, no virgins, no waiting.


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 28, 2013)

There was, Faith had to admit, an upside to being in this unit.  The biggest benefit was the low expectations.  Anything Faith did made him look like a rock star.  Also, for the first time in his entire career, he felt like he got along with everyone in his unit.  There was genuinely not a single officer in the whole brigade that he did not like.  Part of this was because Faith didn’t care as much anymore, but part of it also was that he had matured a bit since leaving 2nd Group and was more prepared to accept people for who they were, and not how Faith expected that they should be.
The day Faith looked forward to every day was Wednesday.  That was Ultimate Football day for Officer PT, and with the number of officers in the brigade, the games grew to epic proportions.  There was an official “no sports during PT” rule in the Division, but it was routinely ignored in 116th Trans, and no one came this far out in the Back 40 of the Division to check on them anyway.  Not only was Ultimate Football fun, but there were some people in the Division who were good.  REALLY good.  Too bad the game wasn’t a competitive league on post.

Faith had been in 116th Trans for four months.    While many of his former comrades from 2nd Group had tried to maintain contact with him, Faith felt like it was better for everyone to sever all ties.  Faith’s longtime nemesis, Major Quentin Roberts, had taken over as Group S2 for 2nd Group, the position that Faith was identified to fill before he got fired.  Well, “fired” might be a bit harsh of a term, Faith mused.  There was nothing in writing about the conditions under which Faith left 2nd Group; and since it wasn’t written down, it never happened.   Faith’s record was clear; it looked like a routine administrative move from 2nd Group to 116th Trans… although anyone familiar with the Special Operations community might find the move a bit odd.  But Faith new it was a demotion in all the ways that mattered.  That was one of the main reasons he was getting out.

With regard to leaving the Army, Faith alternated between optimism, regret, and bitter cynicism.  He had always planned on making a career out of the Army, as his father and grandfather had done before him.  But he just couldn’t see himself doing this, dealing with people like The Dud, MAJ Roberts, as well as Lieutenant Colonel Suckhole and Major Sellout from his first assignment as a young lieutenant.  As far as Faith was concerned, the Army was filled with corrupt and inept officers who fed a corrupt and inept system.  He had no doubts that the “outside” was at least as corrupt and inept, but at least his leaders outside the Army weren’t going to get him killed.


----------



## LibraryLady (Apr 28, 2013)

x SF med said:


> Faith, in deep despair, embraces Islam, straps a bomb to his Load vest, walks into Dud's office and detonates the vest. The End. No paradise, no virgins, no waiting.


 
And THAT is the shortest Case Study yet!

LL


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 28, 2013)

LibraryLady said:


> And THAT is the shortest Case Study yet!
> 
> LL


 
Yeah, but Homeland already stole that idea from me.  Bastards.


----------



## Mac_NZ (Apr 28, 2013)

Quick couple of questions:

Why would there be a no sports for PT rule?  We institutionally play sports every Wednesday afternoon.  It builds teamwork and gives you a workout, plus its fun and how often is organised PT fun.

Would it be possible for Faith to try out for the SFQC in his current rank?


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 28, 2013)

Mac_NZ said:


> Quick couple of questions:
> 
> Why would there be a no sports for PT rule? We institutionally play sports every Wednesday afternoon. It builds teamwork and gives you a workout, plus its fun and how often is organised PT fun.


 
It was a real-life rule they had at Fort Campbell when I was stationed there.  The problem was twofold:  most of the injuries that were making people non-combat-ready happened during sporting events (Joe plays kind of rough).  Also, too many units were playing sports to the extent that it was causing their PT scores to suffer.  Hence the crackdown.  I think the rule was, "no organized athletics 0600-08o0."  So what some units did on sports days was just start PT at 0800.  Others just ignored the rule.  When I was an infantry PL, we did organized PT in the morning and in the afternoon if we got everything else done, we did something fun.  It worked pretty well.



Mac_NZ said:


> Would it be possible for Faith to try out for the SFQC in his current rank?


 
That is actually something CPT Faith is mulling over.  We haven't gotten to it in the story yet, though.


----------



## DA SWO (Apr 28, 2013)

Why didn't the Warrants and Sr NCO's at 2nd Group let their counterparts at Div Hq know he was "The Dud"?


----------



## Dame (Apr 28, 2013)

Mac_NZ said:


> If Faith doesn't shank/bottle/beat/bum rape that sack of shit of a Major in this one I'm going to download an IP spoofer and register 5 accounts a day pretending I'm a 15 year old kid who knows all about the SOF world from playing COD4, I'll do it Mara!!! I'll have you so busy banning fake annoying kids you will finally have an excuse to not be finishing the case study!
> 
> Translation from Officerese:
> 
> When you all start getting into it like a single mother with 5 screaming kids devouring "50 shades of grey" and a pizza I'll put the brakes on and post nothing, I'll laugh at your weak attempts to cajole me into carrying on with it and give weak arsed excuses about spanish papers and shit. When you have finally given up and moved on with your lives I'll post more. Then I'll laugh at you fools getting all strung out again waiting for more of the story. I am George R.R. Martin of the case study genre...


 
Oh Mac. Oh geez. I have not laughed that hard in a long freakin' time.



digrar said:


> The torment of wondering if you should click on the link, or just ignore it for 7 or 8 months so it's almost half way started. :-/


I was only able to resist clicking until today. I'm so weak. :wall:


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 28, 2013)

SOWT said:


> Why didn't the Warrants and Sr NCO's at 2nd Group let their counterparts at Div Hq know he was "The Dud"?


 
They were probably just happy to get rid of him.  And SOF tends to not do a good job of putting things down on paper or care about what happens to a turd once they flush it.

No kidding, one time we punted a guy from the 160th for offering "information on our Little Birds and their customers" to a company making a video game, and he got needs-of-the-Army assigned across the airfield with 5th Group, which is where I was before I went to the 160th.  WTF...


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 28, 2013)

Like most of the rest of the buildings in 116th Trans, Faith’s office had no air conditioning. The industrial-strength floor fans that droned on endlessly in the hallway outside his open door succeeded only in moving the hot air around. But at least they kept the flies at bay. Peeling paint, which Faith had no doubt was lead-based, flaked off the walls any time they were touched. The floors reeked of something that smelled suspiciously like urine. Faded signs warning of asbestos were hung haphazardly in various places throughout.

Despite it all, Faith was happy. Genuinely happy. While what happened to him in Group was still a raw wound emotionally, he had hoped for the future. After a long discussion with his wife, he had decided to resign from active duty and go to graduate school. After he was done with school, he would move back to Alabama and work at the same defense contracting firm as his father. He would also join the National Guard, and both Explosive Ordnance Disposal and Special Forces had armories in his parents’ hometown. It would be difficult for a few years, but he and his wife were well-supported both by their extended families and each other. They would be OK. For her part, his wife had decided that she was ready to hang it up entirely. She had already submitted her resignation paperwork, and it had been approved. She would be out of the Army completely in two months.

Faith had yet to submit his papers. In fact, his resignation packet was on his desk, along with the application paperwork for a half-dozen graduate schools. The top sheets rustled on his desk every time the breeze from the fan oscillated over his desk, but the staples and the weight of the applications kept everything anchored down. It was 3PM, 1500 hours in Army time, and already most of the rest of the Brigade staff had trickled away and left for the day. Faith didn’t blame them; it was the Friday before a four-day weekend and there was pretty much nothing to do here. But professional pride kept him from leaving before 1600. He was particularly glad he stayed “late” today, because there was a knock at the door and an unexpected visitor appeared: Faith’s good friend, Captain Simon Criss.


----------



## digrar (Apr 28, 2013)

[quote="Mac_NZ, post: 280238, member: 248"We institutionally play sports every Wednesday afternoon. It builds teamwork and gives you a workout, plus its fun and how often is organised PT fun.[/quote]

Thursdays for us, Aussie rules and Rugby are played against other units in the Brigade and it is brutal as any footy played anywhere. Especially when it's arms corps units versus other arms corps units. Infantry Battalions routinely win both competitions and many of the diggers are pretty much semi pro footballers, especially on the Rugby side of the house, once they start playing rep Rugby for Army and the ADF they're constantly off playing interstate or over seas.


----------



## Salt USMC (Apr 29, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> He was particularly glad he stayed “late” today, because there was a knock at the door and an unexpected visitor appeared: Faith’s good friend, Captain Simon Criss.


Was this the 3A with whom Faith butted heads but eventually became besties with?

Perhaps he's got a hot fill unit assignment at some place neat!


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 29, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Was this the 3A with whom Faith butted heads but eventually became besties with?
> 
> Perhaps he's got a hot fill unit assignment at some place neat!


 
That was a different person.  CPT Criss is a support guy.


----------



## goon175 (Apr 29, 2013)

> He was particularly glad he stayed “late” today, because there was a knock at the door and an unexpected visitor appeared: Faith’s good friend, Captain Simon Criss.


 
It's about to go all "broke back mountain" up in this bitch.

Edit: Reading this thread is really making me depressed.


----------



## Marauder06 (Apr 29, 2013)

"HATE!!!"  hatehatehatehateHATE


----------



## x SF med (Apr 30, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> "HATE!!!" hatehatehatehateHATE


 
Mara, are you upset about something, Sir?  You are not quite clear, because you are not using officerese.  :-"


----------



## Salt USMC (May 3, 2013)

Four days now and no update.  Sounds par for the course for case studies :-"


----------



## LibraryLady (May 3, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Four days now and no update. Sounds par for the course for case studies :-"


 
4 days ain't nuthin'!  :wall:

LL


----------



## Marauder06 (May 3, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Four days now and no update. Sounds par for the course for case studies :-"





LibraryLady said:


> 4 days ain't nuthin'! :wall:
> 
> LL


 
I posted something like four updates in a row... that's like a month's worth of updates, it's not my fault you read them all at once. :-"



goon175 said:


> ...
> 
> Edit: Reading this thread is really making me depressed.


 
Don't worry, it gets better. 

And just so everyone understands, this part of the plot is completely made up. I didn't get fired from Group... nobody did, ever, which was actually part of the problem.

Here's the next installment. Double crossthread / life irony points in this one.

/////

“Ugh, why is it so hot in here?” CPT Criss asked rhetorically as he crossed the room to shake hands with CPT Faith.

“These buildings are all condemned,” Faith explained, offering a seat with a wave of his hand.

“You don’t say?” Criss stated sarcastically, looking suspiciously about the room as he sat down.

“Good to see you again, Simon,” Faith said, and he meant it. “What brings you down to this side of the base?”

“Well, a good friend of mine had a major, life-changing experience a while back, and he hasn’t been answering my emails or returning my calls. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t like me anymore,” Criss said accusingly.

Faith smiled, a bit chagrinned. “I’m sorry about that. I was going to call you- really- once I got everything set up and the dust settled. Then things started happening… and with The Dud and MAJ Roberts out there, I figured it would be better off if I just left everyone at 2nd Group alone. That way they’re not going to be collateral damage from people gunning for me.”

“Well, that’s fine and all,” Criss countered, “but I’m not *in* 2nd Group anymore.”

“That’s right!” Faith exclaimed, “How’s the 16th SAVE?”

“I wrapped up Green Platoon and I’ll be reporting to my unit next week,” Criss answered proudly.

“Great work,” Faith said, genuinely pleased. “What’s it been like so far?”

“It’s incredible,” Criss said, “I’ve never felt so… part of a unit before. And the fact that the support guys have to go through an assessment, selection, and training program really makes a difference.”

“In what way?” Faith asked.

“Well, to begin with, the mere fact that the 16th has a process weeds out all the turds that just want to sew Velcro on their sleeves and be CBA,” (meaning cool by association) he answered. “Plus, since all of the enablers are actually in Green Platoon with the pilots, we start working with them right away, so we know what they need, and they understand what we can do to support them. Plus, the whole “shared suffering” thing really helps build a sense of camaraderie.”

Faith nodded. This was exactly the kind of thing he was on the verge of creating before he was driven out of 2nd Group.

“So, how have you been spending your time since you left Group?” Criss asked Faith inquisitively.

“Well, I’m getting very good at racquetball, for one thing,” Faith replied.

“Seriously? I thought you hated that game?” Cris said, surprised.

“I used to, but the DCO from 2nd Group kept bugging me to play with him. And since I have nothing but time on my hands now, I play every day during lunch. In fact, I made my way into the Division tournament next week.”

“Good for you!” Criss responded with enthusiasm. Then he noticed all of the paperwork.  “What’s all this?” he inquired, waving his hand over a sheaf of papers spread across Faith’s desk.

“Grad school applications,” Faith answered.

“Oh, you’re going to do Advanced Civil Schooling on the Army’s dime? Awesome!” Criss stated.

“Nope.”

“A Fellowship then, the Olmstead… oh I’ve got it, the Downing! I think they only take combat arms guys, but with your background they may make an exception.”

Faith shook his head.

“OK, I give up… wait, you’re not doing the West Point thing, are you?”

“What ‘West Point thing?’” Faith inquired.

“You know, the thing where they hire you to teach at West Point, then they pay for you to go to any school in the country, and you teach there for a couple of years and then go back into the force. I think that would be GREAT for someone like you.”

“No way,” Faith stated emphatically. “First of all, I didn’t even know you could do something like that. Second of all, screw West Point. It’s a colossal waste of taxpayer funds, and all it produces are douchey, pretentious, socially-retarded, backstabbing ringknockers. I would NEVER go there voluntarily. And definitely not to teach. Ever.”

“Douchey, pretentious, socially-retarded, backstabbing ringknockers?” Criss challenged.

“That’s what I said,” Faith replied.

“Didn’t you tell me once that you applied to go there, and got turned down?”

“Yeah,” Faith said, rather defensively.

“Do you know where I went to school?” Criss asked.

“No, but since you’re not a douchey, pretentious ringknocker, I know where you DIDN’T go to school,” Faith answered.

“Fair enough,” Criss said with a smile, “I can tell this West Point thing is something you’re sensitive about, so I’m going to file that away to use against you later. Now, since my powers of deduction have failed me, what project is it that you’re into that has got you elbow-deep into grad school applications?”

“It’s the Echo Tango Sierra program,” Faith told him.

“The Echo Tango… the ETS program? You’re getting out?” Criss stated more than asked.

“Yep, six more months and I’m out.”

“You can’t do that,” Criss told him, “The Army is your life. You LOVE the Army!”

“Yeah, well the Army doesn’t love me.”

“Holy shit, if I would have known I was walking into a pity party, I would have brought you a box of Kleenex instead of this,” Criss said, rolling his eyes and placing a foot-long rectangular box on Faith’s desk.

“What the hell is this?” Faith said more than asked. Criss didn’t reply so Faith opened the box. As soon as he opened it, Faith immediately recognized the medal as the Bronze Star.

“What is this?” Faith repeated. “Is this yours?”

“You really are a complete dumbass sometimes,” Criss chided him, smiling. “This is yours, dummy.”

“For what? I haven’t deployed in over a year.”

“This is for your little vacation in Iraq.”

“That award got downgraded to an ARCOM because USASOC doesn’t give anything more than that out to red-hats.”

“That’s true,” Criss replied, “It originally got downgraded but then the Group Commander pitched a fit to the USASOC commander, and got it un-downgraded.”

“The same Group Commander that shitcanned me and drummed me out of the Group?” Faith asked, confused.

“No. Definitely not. That guy hates your guts. The old Group Commander,” Criss clarified.

“Ah,” Faith said.

“So are you happy now or what?” Criss asked.

“No… I mean yeah, this is kind of a big deal,” Faith said. “But there were lots of other guys who deserved this more than me.”

“There always are,” Criss countered. “Always. But you deserve this too, so wear it for yourself, and all the others who earned it but weren’t awarded it.”

"I don't know man, that whole Soul Plan thing-" Faith began.

"Dude, why are you always bringing up old shit?" Criss interrupted, laughing.

Faith again said nothing. He was clearly moved by the fact that his last Group commander went to bat for him like this. A Bronze Star was, as he stated earlier, a pretty big deal. Especially for a support guy. Most especially for a support guy in 2nd Group.


----------



## DA SWO (May 4, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> I posted something like four updates in a row... that's like a month's worth of updates, it's not my fault you read them all at once. :-"
> 
> 
> 
> ...


 
Capt C should get it to the G2 and make him award it while the dud watches.


----------



## Marauder06 (May 4, 2013)

Hm, that would have made a better story, rubbing it in The Dud's face and him trying to take it out later on Faith.


----------



## Marauder06 (May 4, 2013)

OK, I'll try to post one update a day, now that school is almost over.  No promises, though...

And just for the record, no I don't think West Point grads are douchey, pretentious ringknockers.  But it's important to a later plot line / leadership lesson that Faith thinks so right now.

/////
“So which schools are you applying to?”  Criss asked, in order to change the subject.


“Alabama, UGA, Vanderbilt, UNC, and Texas A&M,” Faith answered immediately.

“No schools in the North?”  Criss inquired.

“UNC is in *North* Carolina,” Faith answered with a smile.


“Dude, you’ve lived in the South your whole life, how about branching out a little?”

“Why would I ever want to do that?” Faith asked in mock horror.

“Maybe to see a little bit more of the world, you hick,” Criss teased.

“I’ve seen plenty of the world,” Faith told him, “and none of it looks as good to me as northern Alabama.”

“OK, fair enough,” Criss conceded.  “What are you going to study?”

“I don’t know,” Faith mused, “History, communication, or maybe international relations.”

“Oh!”  Criss exclaimed, “If you want to do IR, Yale has a great program!”

“Yale??” Faith said with disgust.  “They are one of the most anti-military schools in the whole country.  They booted their ROTC units off campus in the 70’s and have been a radical, extreme leftist, military-hating school ever since.  Plus they have some of the DUMBEST gun laws in the whole country.  If I went to school there, I’d probably get spit on every day and end up fighting hippies on the green every Friday or something.  I will NEVER go to a school like Yale.”

Criss smiled at him.  “Never is a long time, bro.  Don’t limit your options.  And listen, I would have paid EXTRA to fight hippies every Friday at Yale when I went there,” he said, his mind wandering back fondly to his college years.

“You went to Yale?” Faith said incredulously.

“Yep.  I had to do my ROTC across town at the University of New Haven, but yeah I graduated from and received my commission at Yale University.  It’s not so bad.”


Faith looked at him skeptically.

“Seriously!  I did my thing, everyone else did theirs, no issues.  I wore my uniform every Wednesday and no one ever gave me a hard time about it.  No spitting, no getting called ‘baby killer,’ and definitely no fighting hippies.  Although,” Criss added, “that would have been fine with me.  As it stood, I had to do my fighting on the ice.”

“So you played hockey… for Yale…” Faith began.

“All four years,” Criss assured him.

“The things you learn about people that you think you know,” Faith said.  “How am I only finding out about this now?”

“You never asked,” Criss stated matter-of-factly.  “You were probably more interested in hearing about all the girls I Simonized,” he added with a sly grin.

Faith let out a sigh.  “I still don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to.” 

“Of course you do, everybody does.  Especially old, boring, married people like you.  So, are you going to drop an application in with Yale or what?”

“No,” Faith intoned, emphatically but not rudely.

“Fine, do you want to go to lunch with me, at least?”

“Yes,” Faith responded with equal enthusiasm.


----------



## Dame (May 4, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Criss smiled at him. “Never is a long time, bro. Don’t limit your options. And listen, I would have paid EXTRA to fight hippies every Friday at Yale when I went there,” he said, his mind wandering back fondly to his college years.


----------



## x SF med (May 5, 2013)

Hey Mara... is the Soul Plan  what made the Soul Plane happen?  Friggin Yalies...   not worth a damn...


----------



## SpitfireV (May 5, 2013)

Oh God, Faith, don't do IR, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.


----------



## Crusader74 (May 5, 2013)

SpitfireV said:


> Oh God, Faith, don't do IR, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.


 

What's wrong with IR?  I'm gonna do IR.. lol


----------



## Salt USMC (May 5, 2013)

Irish said:


> What's wrong with IR? I'm gonna do IR.. lol


Same here.  I've been looking at doing IR or area studies for a while.


----------



## Crusader74 (May 5, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Same here. I've been looking at doing IR or area studies for a while.


 
IR & Security Studies I'm looking at.


----------



## Marauder06 (May 5, 2013)

SpitfireV said:


> Oh God, Faith, don't do IR, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.


 


Irish said:


> What's wrong with IR? I'm gonna do IR.. lol


 
Inside joke :)


----------



## digrar (May 5, 2013)

Has anyone ever got a job out of that degree? I'm not hearing overly good things about it down this neck of the planet.


----------



## SpitfireV (May 5, 2013)

If you're not already employed with the government and doing it as postgrad and it's not coupled with a language or something more useful down here it can be a bit of a useless thing. I'm not sure about in other countries. I do know a girl who got an MFAT job right out of uni with an Hons degree in it but I suspect she would be the straight A, A+, above that if it were possible type. I met another girl with had a MA in it, couldn't find a job for years. So yeah, useful if you're already with the government and want to move up within/outside the organisation (to within government). I'm a bit cynical about the subject and its usefulness to me but I think I've just been taught badly and I expected more from the subject than I got- I expected more of a Security Studies type focus.


----------



## Marauder06 (May 5, 2013)

Worked for me.


----------



## Marauder06 (May 5, 2013)

Lunch, Faith had to admit, was a blast.  He should have expected it, but Criss pulled a bit of a bait-and-switch on Faith.  Criss asked Faith if he wanted to go eat lunch at the Stab ‘n’ Jab, but Faith countered that 1) it was all the way on the other side of post, and 2) it was likely to be full of people from 2nd Group, which Faith didn’t really care to see right now.

“OK, how about the Helter-Skelter?”  Criss offered.  This was the nickname of McHelter’s Lodge, the gun range/restaurant/recreation area complex where Chief Michaels’ retirement was held.

“Wow, I haven’t been out there since Michaels retired!”  Faith exclaimed.  “Plus, today’s Schnitzel Day… let’s roll!”

When the two arrived at McHelter’s, Criss led the way back to one of the private banquet rooms instead of the main dining area.  Faith thought this was a bit odd… but whatever, Criss was kind of an odd guy.  Criss sped up a bit, separating himself from Faith.  He opened the door to the private room and let it shut behind him, before Faith could reach it.  “Simon must be pretty hungry…” Faith mused to himself.

Faith opened the door and entered the private room.  When the door shut behind him, the room was completely dark.  “Simon, what the fuck?” Faith called out, blind in the darkness.

“SURPRISE!!” came an enthusiastic yell from several voices inside the darkened and previously eerily quiet room.  When the lights flicked back on, Faith was standing just inside the room, slightly crouched, with eyes wide and his hand near his hip, reaching for a sidearm which, of course, was not there.  As soon as he realized what was happening, Faith’s face broke into a wide grin.  The room was filled with former friends from 2nd Group, including Chief Rollins, Sergeant Major Reynolds, and CW5 (ret.) Michaels.  Faith’s wife, Linda, was there as well.  She was standing closest to Faith and was the first to speak to him after the surprise wore off.

“What were you reaching for?” she asked him, gesturing to the hand that was still poised near Faith’s hip.  “Were you about to text somebody to death?” she teased.

“You about shit your pants, didn’t you sir?” a familiar voice asked.

“Yes, actually,” Faith said, breaking into a broad smile and shaking hands with SFC Rico.

There were perhaps two dozen people in the room; coworkers, friends, and former subordinates from 2nd Group.  Faith had been taken by complete surprise.  Normally he hated surprises; this was clearly an exception.

“What’s all this, then?” Faith asked out loud to no one in particular as he was led to the head of the table. 

“Well, sir,” Chief Rollins explained, “you kind of left Group in a hurry, and you never got a proper farewell.  And since you never return anyone’s phone calls anymore, we figured that the only way to get you to come to this was to execute a HUMINT-centric deception plan.”

“But, how did you know I’d pick McHelter’s?  What if I would have said… Burger King?” Faith asked as he was seated. 

“You wouldn’t have,” Criss assured him, helping Faith’s wife to a seat beside him.

“I could have,” Faith countered.

“You didn’t,” Criss reminded him.

“Ok, so what now?” Faith inquired.

“First, we drink.  Next, we eat.   Then, we roast you and send you off properly.  After, your wife drives you home, because you are going to be too drunk to do anything meaningful after we are done here tonight,” Criss informed him, ticking off his fingers as he talked.

“Sounds like you have this pretty well planned out,” Faith said.

“Yep!” said Sergeant Major Reynolds as he set a pitcher of beer and a glass mug in front of Faith.


----------



## Gypsy (May 30, 2013)

:-"


----------



## x SF med (May 30, 2013)

Gypsy said:


> :-"


 
the way Mara works, whistling will  just get you chapped lips and make you out of breath...  you know this, you've been through the case study boondoggle before...

...but there was this one time in Cuba....  :wall:  (way inside joke, but it stayed over the edge of the plate)


----------



## Dame (May 30, 2013)

I gave up and started reading _One Bullet Away_.


----------



## Salt USMC (May 30, 2013)

And school is out.  No excuse!


----------



## x SF med (May 31, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> And school is out. No excuse!


 
He's moving... 105 miles from his old place...  should take him oh 6-7 weeks to do that, another month to set up his computer, a month to get his internet working properly....  expect a post or two, prior to his PCS/ETS/Retirement...  if we're lucky...  he may or may not have NCO support at this new gig.... and we've all seen how he does without NCO's to steal credit from, or blame when he doesn't listen to advice...

short answer... don't friggin hold your breath...


----------



## 0699 (May 31, 2013)

x SF med said:


> He's moving... 105 miles from his old place... should take him oh 6-7 weeks to do that, another month to set up his computer, a month to get his internet working properly.... expect a post or two, prior to his PCS/ETS/Retirement... if we're lucky... he may or may not have NCO support at this new gig.... and we've all seen how he does without NCO's to steal credit from, or blame when he doesn't listen to advice...
> 
> *short answer... don't friggin hold your breath*...


 
Hell, it's been so long since the last entry I forgot a new case study had been started.


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Jun 1, 2013)

edit - removed my thoughts on case study, maybe another day!


----------



## Marauder06 (Jul 2, 2013)

*Reflecting upon it later, Faith reckoned that had not ever drunk so much, or laughed so hard, as he did during that roast.  CPT Criss was an amazing storyteller, and managed to convincingly describe events that happened when Criss himself wasn’t even present, or in at least one case, didn’t occur at all.  As the beer continued to flow, the stories got more outrageous and uproarious, to the point where Faith was starting to get a bit embarrassed, especially since his wife was in the same room.  But no shrinking violet was she; totally comfortable in this environment and with these Soldiers, she laughed along and seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, for which Faith was grateful.

When the stories and skits were finally over, they brought out Faith’s going-away gift, a framed Group MI Detachment guidon with photos of their deployment to Iraq.  As Sergeant Major Reynolds, Faith’s former detachment first sergeant, approached to hand it over to him, Faith felt tears well up in his eyes.  

As he stood up to accept the gift, Faith’s voice faltered.

“Thank… thank you all for coming,” he said.  “I know many of you came from long distances to be here today.  And this…” he added, gesturing to the guidon, “really means a lot to me.”

Faith was a big guy and an accomplished drinker, but he was definitely feeling it as he got up to leave McHelter’s.  “Too much beer,” he muttered as he steered himself a bit unsteadily towards the door.

“No such thing, sir,” Sergeant Major Reynolds corrected him, and Faith’s wife laughed.  Eventually, everyone except Faith, his wife Linda, Sergeant Major Reynolds, and Simon Criss departed; some had to return to work, others were getting a head start on the long weekend.  

“This was great, Simon, thank you,” Faith said.  “You too, Sergeant Major.”

“My pleasure, sir,” Reynolds answered.  Criss gave a thumbs up with his left hand while draining a beer glass with his right.*


----------



## DA SWO (Jul 3, 2013)

Hope his wife is the DD.


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 7, 2013)

The Bronze Star that Simon Cris had pinned to Faith’s uniform top jingled noisily as he walked towards the door.

“Probably should take this off,” Faith said out loud.

“Wear it home, you earned it,” Criss suggested as he preceded Faith out the door of the private room they had all been in and stepped into the main hallway.

Following close behind, Faith almost ran into Criss as the former stopped short.

“Oh shit,” Criss said out loud, to no one in particular. 

Faith was taller than Criss by at least a head and easily saw what was causing his friend such consternation.  Standing in the hallway not three feet away were Major Roberts and The Dud, the two people Faith least wanted to see while he was boozed up and leaving a club on a work day.  Faith was holding his wife’s hand, and he felt her grip stiffen.  Faith stopped, hoping that the two wouldn’t notice him, but no dice.

“Hiya, Scotty!” MAJ Roberts exclaimed with his trademark false enthusiasm.


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 7, 2013)

Faith bristled.  It was against post policy to drink alcohol during the duty day, although that policy was widely ignored.  In fact, it was usually only enforced as an add-on offense, or when someone in a position of authority wanted to be a dick.  This, Faith new, was probably going to be one of those times.

“Captain Faith,” The Dud intoned, “have you been drinking during the duty d-d-d-“

“Day?” Captain Criss offered helpfully.  He just couldn’t help himself.  The Dud glared at him menacingly.

Criss was undaunted.  “Oh, us, sir?  Well, I’m sure none of us would ever want to break post policy.”  This was technically true; no one ever really “wanted” to break post policy, they just kind of did it.

“Then how do you explain this?”  MAJ Roberts challenged, gesturing to the half-full pitcher of beer CPT Criss still held in his hand.

Criss shrugged.  “A little take-out for after duty hours?” he offered.

Faith groaned inwardly.  While Criss was an extremely happy, go-lucky guy, he tended to be extremely sarcastic when he was drunk.  That was unlikely to be helpful in this situation.

MAJ Roberts pulled out his cell phone.  “I’m going to call the MPs and ask them to administer a breathalizer test,” he announced.  “I’m disappointed, Scotty,” he added condescendingly, as if Faith really gave a damn what Roberts thought about him.

At this point, CPT Criss looked positively livid.  Faith’s wife, Linda, looked ashen.  For his part Faith felt… nothing.  He really didn’t care.  This situation just reinforced in his mind that getting the hell out of the Army as soon as possible was the right decision.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Faith’s current supervisor, MAJ Everly, walked into the club with two other field grades that Faith recognized were officers from the 116th Trans.  Faith liked Everly, but Everly struck Faith as the kind of guy that was unwilling to make waves and would get pushed around by people like Roberts and The Dud.  Everly was utterly… uninspiring in his rumpled, ill-fitting uniform and bespeckled, overweight appearance.  Faith hoped that Everyly wouldn’t spot him, but that didn’t happen.

“Hey Scott,” Everly said in genuine enthusiasm.  “Glad to see you here.  Want to join us for a drink?”

“Captain Faith has already had enough, thank you,” MAJ Roberts informed him.  Everly looked annoyed, and not with CPT Faith.

“Interesting,” Everyly replied non-commitedly.  “What’s this?” he inquired, patting the Bronze Star pinned to Faith’s chest. 

Faith shrugged.  “Just doing my job,” he answered.

“He’s just being modest,” CPT Criss interjected.  “He got that for being the only MI officer worth a damn in all of 2nd Group.”

“Well, I certainly believe that,” Everly said.  “Earning a Bronze Star is a pretty big deal, and definitely calls for a celebration.  Why don’t all of you join us, first round is on me.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” MAJ Roberts interjected flatly.  “He’s staying right here until the MPs get here, then he’s going to take a breathalizer test, which will show he is drunk on duty, and then he will be turned over to his chain of command for prosecution.”

“You’re an asshole,” CPT Criss hissed through his teeth.

“You- shut the fuck up,” Everly said, pointing directly at CPT Criss.  To Faith’s surprise, Criss did as he was told.

“You-“ he said to Roberts, “let me tell you something.  CPT Faith’s ‘chain of command’ is standing right here.  Call the MP’s all you want; Faith’s not getting prosecuted for anything.  You don’t run shit in 116th Trans, I do.  So let me tell you what I’m going to do in this situation.  I’m going over to the bar to raise a glass to CPT Faith and his Bronze Star, and if you or the MP’s don’t like that, you can take it up with our brigade command when he gets here.  In fact, there he is right now.”

MAJ Everly’s words and assertiveness were so far removed from what everyone expected from him, that everyone else stood there in stunned silence.

“You,” Everly said to Faith, “Go home.”  “You,” he said, pointing at Faith’s wife, “Drive.”

“You,” he said shifting his gaze and his finger to point at CPT Criss, “Give me that.”  After he had taken the half-empty pitcher of beer he continued, “Get four glasses and another pitcher of beer and join us at the table in the back.”  He sniffed the pitcher suspiciously.  “Make it better beer than whatever this is.  First round is on you for interrupting when grown folks were talking.”  

“Oh, and you two,” he said, pointing to Roberts and The Dud, almost as an afterthought, “you have a nice fucking day.”


----------



## racing_kitty (Aug 7, 2013)

Gotta love top cover. I'm impressed with Everly's save.


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Aug 8, 2013)

edit - removed my thoughts on case study, maybe another day!


----------



## Poccington (Aug 8, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> “Oh, and you two,” he said, pointing to Roberts and The Dud, almost as an afterthought, “you have a nice fucking day.”



Fuck yeah.


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 8, 2013)

Faith needs to get his drinking under control.
Glad he had top cover.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 8, 2013)

SOWT said:


> Faith needs to get his drinking under control.
> Glad he had top cover.


 
Yeah, he's a friggin lush...  bet they make him teach at West Point in the future, just to punish him...


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Aug 9, 2013)

Shit, sorry for the "hate" Sir, wrong thread.


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Aug 9, 2013)

That hurts, LOST.  I have you over to my home, make you dinner and now you hate my post.  I should pour the remaining Guinness and Magner's down the sink for that...but I shan't.


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Aug 9, 2013)

edit - removed my thoughts on case study, maybe another day!


----------



## x SF med (Aug 9, 2013)

SpongeBob*24 said:


> entire post


 
blah blah blah...  go back and read all of the case studies in their awesome entirety...  starting form the beginning...  there are commo guys...


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Aug 9, 2013)

Rgr...copy all!!!


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 9, 2013)

The next day wasn’t a particularly pleasant one for CPT Faith.  To begin with, he woke up extremely hung over.  He managed to drag himself through PT, but afterwards felt too nauseous to eat breakfast.  He also received a mild admonishment from MAJ Everly, who had saved him from potentially career-ending trouble the night before.

“Look Scott,” Everly had told him, “I know you’re planning on getting out.  That’s fine.  I know you dislike Roberts and Dudley.  I do too.  But stop doing stupid shit that makes more work for me.  You know how much I don’t like work,” he added jokingly.

“Roger, sir,” was all Faith had been able to say in response.

“Also, like it or not, MAJ Dudley is your rater.  So it would be smart of you not to give him anything he can use against you.”

Faith knew that Everly was correct.  He also knew that The Dud would extract his pound of flesh for last night.  So it was no surprise to him when Faith fired up his work computer a short time later and saw an email from The Dud that read simply, “Report to my office at 0800.”  Faith glanced at his watch, it was already after 0900.  Sighing, he grabbed his car keys and his hat and headed out to the parking lot.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 10, 2013)

Bang Bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer is about to come down upon his head...


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 10, 2013)

Dud knew he had PT and would not get the e-mail until after the report time.


----------



## Salt USMC (Aug 11, 2013)

Faith just needs to settle this business....*in the cage!*





Or SCIF, whichever is more convenient.


----------



## LimaOscarSierraTango (Aug 11, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Faith just needs to settle this business....*in the cage!*
> 
> 
> 
> ...




I say on the back 40 playing Ultimate Frisbee.  Then he can break the Dud's kneecaps and get him medically discharged...

Oops!  Was that out loud?


----------



## policemedic (Aug 11, 2013)

If they're on the back 40, just bury the body carefully.


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 12, 2013)

The session with The Dud went pretty much as Faith expected.  There was a lot of blustering, a bunch of threats, some stammering, and a lot of posturing about “not following the Blue Book,” which was the set of guidelines every Soldier was supposed to carry on his or her person at all times while in uniform.  This included field time, which Faith always felt was a bit silly, but whatever.  After about the third time that The Dud brought up how drinking during the duty day violated the Blue Book, Faith reminded him that scheduling anything before 0900 other than PT also violated the Blue Book, and if The Dud was going to write Faith up for violating the Blue Book, then The Dud needed to write himself up as well.  This, of course, was completely ridiculous.  Drinking on duty was potentially far more serious than asking someone to come in for a counseling session during PT hours.  The only reason Faith even brought up The Dud’s “offense” was… well, to be difficult, really.  There was nothing more to it than that.

But Faith thought The Dud’s reaction to what Faith said was interesting.  Actually, it was more like an over-reaction.  Faith didn’t even entirely remember what he said, something about everyone needing to do PT during PT hours, when The Dud detonated.  Complete meltdown, with full-on stammering and a summary ejection from The Dud’s office for CPT Faith.

Since there wasn’t a lot going on at work, Faith changed out of his uniform and went to the gym, where he ran into none other than Simon Criss.  This was hardly unusual, given that the two regularly did the Cross Fit workout of the day together.  But Faith thought that after last night, Criss might not show up for their workout.

“How’d things go today?”  Criss asked tentatively.

“You mean before or after my old boss caught me drunk and wanted to call the MPs, and my new boss had to get me out of it?”  Faith answered.

Criss smiled sheepishly.  “Yeah, sorry about that, but at least you can’t say it was boring!”

“No, you’re definitely never boring,” Faith concurred.

“That’s what all the girls say,” Criss said proudly.  Faith rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of girls, who are you seeing these days?”  Faith inquired.

“Oh, Chief Rollins and I are still together,” Criss told him.

“Seriously?” Faith said in genuine surprise.

“Yes,” Criss said rather defensively.  “What, does that surprise you?”

“Yes, actually,” Faith responded, but didn’t elaborate.  Faith didn’t know Criss to have a girlfriend for this long before.  Well, Faith corrected himself, not to have the SAME girlfriend for this long.  “OK, what’s the workout today?” he inquired.

“I’m not really feeling it today,” Criss admitted.  “I’m going to go hang out in the sauna until my hangover goes away.  By the way, your man MAJ Everly… that guy can put away some booze.  Plus, he really likes you for some reason.”

“What’s not to like? I’m pretty low maintenance, and since I’m getting out in a couple of months, I’m OER fodder for my senior rater,” Faith said in reply.

“Well, after a couple of drinks, he and I started talking about your future, and we both agreed you should join me in the 16th SAVE,” Criss informed him.


----------



## racing_kitty (Aug 12, 2013)

Ten to one The Dud retaliates after filling out his DA Form PU-55-Yankee in triplicate. 

Joining Simon might help assuage some of the alienation our dear captain is feeling, but he needs to think long and hard on it. Maybe, MAYBE vent to his wife about it, but it's ultimately his choice alone. If his motivation isn't too far gone, joining the unit might just be the healing salve he needs. But he's gotta be 110% damned sure before he commits.


----------



## LimaOscarSierraTango (Aug 12, 2013)

It's time to start taking other leader's advice CPT Faith, especially those that he knows are good leaders.


----------



## Salt USMC (Aug 13, 2013)

Little bit of pedantry, but "CrossfFit" is one word.

Edit: Pedant fail.


----------



## Karoshi (Aug 13, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Little bit of pedantry, but "Crossfit" is one word.



Seems more of an attempt to be a grammarian than a pedant, because it is CrossFit.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 13, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> Little bit of pedantry, but "CrossfFit" is one word.
> 
> Edit: Pedant fail.


 


Karoshi said:


> Seems more of an attempt to be a grammarian than a pedant, because it is CrossFit.


 
Dammit, this thread is for the Case Study, or harassing mara about how slow he is in posting...  there is already a Crossfit / Cross Fit / Whatever the Kool-Aid drinkers are calling it now thread....  Let's keep this serious...

...and keep your pedantic pederasty to yourself, it's not covered by DADT....  friggin weirdos.

eta, for clarity.... the above is to be read with a smirk on one's face, and a sarcastic bite...  after having read through a large portion of all the posts on this board...  and remembering... case studies take longer than geological time periods to complete.


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 15, 2013)

Faith was annoyed.  He didn’t like people talking about him, or making decisions for him.

“I’m not interested in the 16th ,” Faith informed his friend.

“I know,” Criss answered, “But they’re interested in you.  They’re having try-outs next month, you make it through that, and you survive Green Week, the S2 position in 1st Battalion is coming open in January.”

“That’s like… six months from now,” Faith retorted.  “I’ll be in the University of Alabama by then.  Besides, you told me that there’s this whole application process, which I haven’t done and will not be doing.”

“Yeah… about that…” Criss began.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Faith asked, suspiciously.

“Well, it’s technically what you did.  You applied to the 16th SAVE-“

“I most certainly did not,” Faith interrupted him.  Criss continued, nonplussed,

“You applied to the 16th SAVE, and you were invited to compete in the upcoming try-outs.  Well done!”

Faith rolled his eyes.  “How did I do this, when I have never even so much as held such an application in my hand?”

“Proxies.”

“Pixies?” Faith asked, confused.

“No, idiot, proxies.  I filled out most of it for you, MAJ Everly helped me out with the rest, along with the chain of command endorsement.  I took it to our accessions folks this morning, and they approved it about…” he looked at his watch “…45 minutes ago

Faith sighed.  Informing his friend that he had absolutely no intention of trying out for the 16th SAVE would be pretty much useless at this point.  “Are we doing CrossFit today or not?” Faith demanded.

“As I already informed you, not,” Criss answered.  “Want to go to the sauna with me and watch me sweat out half a gallon of booze?” he offered.

“As… interesting as that might be, I might try to get in a couple of games of racketball while I’m here,” Faith responded, his attention already drawn to a central court where an intense game was already in progress.  CPT Criss looked in that direction.

“If there’s a break in the action, you should challenge the old guy to a match,” Criss suggested to Faith.

“Why?” Faith inquired.  “Who is he?”

CPT Criss shrugged as he tossed his towel over his shoulder and made his way towards the sauna.  “Kind of looks like someone’s grandpa, doesn’t it?” he asked as he walked away.


----------



## digrar (Aug 16, 2013)

Another Warrant who is about to start the challenge to keep Criss from stepping on his crank. You've got to feel sorry for the old bloke.


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Aug 16, 2013)

Hmm...methinks the old guy in the racquetball court is going to be someone Faith needs to impress in the near future coming decades as the case study progresses at its typical rate.


----------



## Salt USMC (Aug 16, 2013)

"Nice ace, Capt. Faith!  You're just the Intel officer our unit needs!"


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 16, 2013)

The old guy hands faith his ass, snicker,snicker...


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 21, 2013)

About an hour and a half later, Criss emerged from the sauna and found Faith packing up his racketball gear, drenched in almost as much sweat as Criss himself was.

“So,” Criss said, grinning as he noticed Faith’s red face and sweated-through clothing, “you get owned by Granpa?”

“No, I totally kicked his ass,” Faith informed him proudly.

“Um… wut?” Criss inquired, a bit shocked.

“He’s good,” Faith explained, “Really good, actually.  The first game was pretty close, I just managed to eke out a win.  But he pitched such a little bitch fit about losing, I decided to step it up the next game.” 

Criss tried to interject, but Faith, flushed with excitement about the match, continued unabated.

“He’s got a lot of talent, and he plays kind of sneaky, but he’s also very proud.  I only had to smack-talk a little to totally get him off his game.  He was getting PISSED at the end.  Especially when I offered some helpful suggestions about his play.”

Criss tried again to say something, but stopped himself when he saw “Grandpa” approaching.

“One more game!” the man said to Faith, without preamble and without excusing himself for interrupting Criss and Faith.

Faith looked at the other man.  He was probably early to mid 50s, with close cut hair, an athletic build and almost no conspicuous body fat.  Standing a short distance behind him was a similarly built but much younger man.

“One more game,” the man said again.

“I’d love to,” Faith answered him, “but I have to get back to work.”

“Work can wait, one more game,” the man insisted.

Faith put a hand reassuringly on the other man’s shoulder.  “Next time,” he said.  “Besides, if we play one more game, I’m going to have to start charging you for all these lessons I’m giving you.”

The other man looked stunned for a second.  Faith noticed Criss stiffen visibly.  Then “Grandpa” laughed, loudly and genuinely, with the mirth of a man who is secure enough to laugh at himself. 

“Fair enough then,” Grandpa said, “Next time, then,” and off he walked, with the younger man he was with close behind.

“Do you know who that was?” Criss hissed when the older man was out of earshot.

“Yes,” Faith replied.  Criss stared at him.  “You told me who it was- someone’s grandpa.  He kind of played like that too.”

Now it was Criss’s turn to laugh.  “You really are a dumbass sometimes,” he said.  “Let’s go.”


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 21, 2013)

He just met the Group Commander, LOL.


----------



## Teufel (Aug 22, 2013)

Well.  Stand by for some hates coming my way.  But I think you would have less great leadership lessons by example (clearly not your own) if you had joined the Marine Corps.  I'm just saying.  60% selection rate to Major this year.


----------



## Ranger Psych (Aug 22, 2013)

wat?


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 22, 2013)

On the way to the parking lot, Criss informed Faith that “Grandpa” was actually Major General Molland, the commander of United States Special Operations Command (USASOC).  Faith was aghast. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded of his friend.

“I just did,” Criss replied.

“You know what I meant.  Why didn’t you tell me before I started playing him in racketball?”

“Well, I thought you knew who he was, and I figured that if you didn’t, you’d figure it out pretty quick.”

“How was I supposed to do that?” Faith demanded.

“Um, I don’t know, like maybe when you introduced yourselves to each other before the game?”  Criss replied sarcastically.

Faith laughed.  “Well, there was no introductions, he shouted ‘Next!’, the guy that was playing him walked off the court, and I walked on.  And then it was game on, for four straight games.”

“Couldn’t you have let him win one game?” Criss inquired.

“No way dude, I don’t even let my daughter win when we play games together.  It’s either legit, or I’m not in it.”

Criss looked at him doubtfully.  “You should start saving up now for your daughter’s therapy,” he informed Faith.  “You’re a sore winner, sometimes.”

“ALL the time,” Faith responded, smiling.


----------



## Mac_NZ (Aug 22, 2013)

Teufel said:


> Well.  Stand by for some hates coming my way.  But I think you would have less great leadership lessons by example (clearly not your own) if you had joined the Marine Corps.  I'm just saying.  60% selection rate to Major this year.



Obviously not enough Yut Yuts, Devil Dog, Hooah and Tattoos for those Captains.


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 22, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> On the way to the parking lot, Criss informed Faith that “Grandpa” was actually Major General Molland, the commander of United States Special Operations Command (USASOC).  Faith was aghast.
> 
> “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded of his friend.
> 
> ...


Point of order, proper abbreviation would be USSOCOM, unless your actually talking about USASOC, aka U.S. ARMY Special Operations Command (aka useless SOC).


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Aug 22, 2013)

Either way...they wouldn't be a 2 star....:-"


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 22, 2013)

I spoke with CPT Faith and he's pretty sure it's USASOC.  He says that MG Molland may be new to the position and hasn't been confirmed for his third star yet.  Or something.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 23, 2013)

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm...   CPT Faith may be winning the hearts and minds of the decision makers, by keeping his 'warrior ethos' intact  during a friendly mock combat on the racquetball court.   His use of speed, surprise and violence of action to overcome an opponent most find unconquerable may have gained him a modicum of respect from a career influencer....   we shall see...  it could also backfire on him and he could have just pissed off a MG... or gained an ally in the MG and disenfranchised his lower level commanders by doing what none of them had the balls to try....   CPT Faith is in that realm of the unknown ....  command limbo...   what would Sun Tzu say about this?


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 23, 2013)

x SF med said:


> Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm...   CPT Faith may be winning the hearts and minds of the decision makers, by keeping his 'warrior ethos' intact  during a friendly mock combat on the racquetball court.   His use of speed, surprise and violence of action to overcome an opponent most find unconquerable may have gained him a modicum of respect from a career influencer....   we shall see...  it could also backfire on him and he could have just pissed off a MG... or gained an ally in the MG and disenfranchised his lower level commanders by doing what none of them had the balls to try....   CPT Faith is in that realm of the unknown ....  command limbo...   *what would Sun Tzu say about this?*



More flied lice prease


----------



## x SF med (Aug 23, 2013)

SOWT said:


> More flied lice prease


 

BOOOOOOOOO HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS    Fail, Sir......   Major Fail....  (see how I did that, used an ossifer rank, I believe your pre retirement one too...)


----------



## Marauder06 (Aug 23, 2013)

Faith wasn’t laughing shortly after he returned to his office.  Waiting for him on his desk was an official-looking letter with a typed 2nd Group return address.  When he opened it, he saw it was an Officer Evaluation Report (OER).  Not only that, but it was *his* OER, from his recent stint in 2nd Group.  And not only THAT, it was a “referred “ (i.e. “bad”) OER, marked “below center of mass” on the back page.  The part where he would normally have been expected to sign said “officer not available for signature.”

Faith read the evaluation in a state of shock.  This isn’t the way that the Army was supposed to work.  Yet, once again, he was getting royally screwed by the system, a system that was supposed to work on fairness and the rule of law.  He briefly considered his options.  He knew from experience that no one was going to help him.  The IG was less than useless in a case like this.  His current chain of command likewise would be powerless.  Requesting a Congressional might do something, but that something would most likely only be delaying Faith’s separation from the Army while the investigation ran its course.  Faith considered his options, then turned to his computer and began typing.

Satisfied with the results about two hours later, Faith printed two sheet of paper, signed his name to the bottom of the second page, stapled a copy of his OER to the two pages he had just printed, and went to see his boss, MAJ Everly.

“Oh hi, Scott,” Everly said as Faith entered his office.  Everly didn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed that Faith didn’t knock before coming in.  “I hear you had an interesting racketball game today?”

Faith’s only response was to lay the document he had prepared on Everly’s desk.

“What’s this?” Everly inquired.

Coming to the position of attention, Faith saluted smartly and said, “Sir, I quit.”  With that, he executed an about face and exited Everly’s office.  Faith then retrieved his keys from his desk, made his way out to his pickup, and drove on home.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 23, 2013)

Now, this is getting interesting....


----------



## LimaOscarSierraTango (Aug 23, 2013)

Does Faith make another enemy, or does MAJ Everly understand CPT Faith's frustrations, and have a come-to-Jesus talk with the Captain?  Pretty shitty thing to blind side your boss.  Especially one that has recently shown you there is more than meets the eye...


----------



## TB1077 (Aug 24, 2013)

It would be great if we were somehow able to see those two pages he attached to the OER (or at least a summary).

Regardless of how the MAJ feels about it, that seems like a pretty unprofessional way out.


----------



## racing_kitty (Aug 26, 2013)

I would have handled that differently.  This is what I would have done: type up the letter of resignation, yes; but hold on to it while taking advantage of a commander willing to hear me out.  When discussing it, don't make threats, don't set ultimatums, but simply state that resignation of commission is coming down the pike and why.  Depending on how the discussion pans out, either hand over the letter of resignation - complete with OER - at the end of the little talk, or let him contemplate what I've said, why I was planning that course of action, and afford him an opportunity to salvage the situation before doing taking a permanent action to a seemingly insurmountable problem.  

MAJ Everly seems to be one whose head is in the right place, and holds his cards close to his chest.  Give him a chance to do his job as an officer and either mentor a junior officer, or to do that voodoo a good officer does so well.


----------



## DA SWO (Aug 26, 2013)

Faith needs to stop sucking pity pills.  He is accepting all the crap without fighting for himself.


----------



## x SF med (Aug 27, 2013)

He was listening to subversive music like this....


----------



## Kraut783 (Sep 2, 2013)

New month.........needing more!


----------



## racing_kitty (Sep 2, 2013)

He's too busy sowing discord in the election thread.


----------



## Mac_NZ (Sep 2, 2013)

It's not like he's running for election or anything, that thread takes up far too much of his time that he could be putting into case studies.


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Sep 2, 2013)

Maj E and Faith need to have a boys night out!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## Salt USMC (Sep 5, 2013)

The revolution in Syria is gonna be resolved before this one even thinks of finishing!


----------



## dirtmover (Sep 5, 2013)

Man I leave Carson spend a couple of days in Manas and Camp Leatherneck and still don't get an update.  I think Mara needs more NCO supervision. lol


----------



## Marauder06 (Sep 6, 2013)

Faith knew, of course, that quitting the Army wasn’t as simple as turning in his resignation.  There was an entire process, which included, among other things, face-to-face interviews with a general officer.  It normally took about six months for the paperwork to go through, but Faith felt like he could ride that time out in the 116th Trans, at least he had MAJ Everly there.

That night, after his wife Linda returned from work, Faith gave her the news.  It wasn’t a complete shock to her, since she of course knew that her husband was deeply dissatisfied with the Army and was looking hard at going to graduate school.  But the timing seemed a bit… abrupt.  She was a bit worried about the future, with only one income between them, but it was do-able if Scott got a scholarship and a part-time job while he was in school.  This also meant that Linda would have to stay in the Army a couple years longer than the two of them expected, which wasn’t really a big deal since, unlike her husband, she was still pretty happy wearing the uniform.

Faith and his wife talked long into the evening.  When she finally headed off to bed, Faith said awake, thinking and working.  He finished up all of his graduate school applications, stamped the envelopes, and dropped them into the mailbox outside of his house.  He also pulled out this latest OER, the one that was the last straw in his decision to quit the Army.  He had, for a while, considered taking up the offer to compete for a position in the 16th SAVE.  But with this eval, not only had his motivation to stay in the Army evaporated, he would never get accepted anyway.

By the time he finally made it to bed, it was well into the early hours of the morning.  Although he tried to sleep, he couldn’t.  He thought his mind would be at ease after taking the final step to leave the Army by submitting his letter of resignation, but he wasn’t.  He was still in turmoil mentally.  He had wanted to be in the Army his whole life, and now that it was finally over (well, almost over), he had a nagging suspicion that he wasn’t doing the right thing.

As time passed and the sun slowly began to creep up above the horizon, he took stock of his life.  He decided to quit drinking, and he was going to do his utmost to control his temper.  He was going to work hard in grad school, and he was going to do everything he could to make life easy for his wife, who was going to be the sole breadwinner for his family in the very near future.  He drifted off shortly before his alarm rang to remind him it was time for PT.  Slowly, Faith rose and got dressed, and then drove back in to work.


----------



## x SF med (Sep 7, 2013)

Sumbuddy gwan be kickin Maj Faith's ass...


----------



## Marauder06 (Sep 16, 2013)

When he arrived at work for PT, Faith’s first stop was to MAJ Everly’ office.  Faith knew that the stunt he pulled the night before, with tossing the letter of resignation on Everly’s desk, was pretty much the same thing as tossing a turd in his lap; it was a pretty low-class move.  Everyly wasn’t in his office when Faith looked in.  This was unusual; Everly normally spent all of the morning PT period in his office, instead of out doing PT.  Faith went on to his own office to drop off his uniform, keys, and wallet before heading out on a run.  When he pushed open the door to his office, Faith was surprised to see Everly sitting in Faith’s seat.  He did not look pleased.  “This can’t be good,” Faith said to himself as he entered the office and closed the door behind himself.


----------



## Mac_NZ (Sep 16, 2013)

Oh you did not just revive this thread with 5 lines of information.

Did you used to break up with girlfriends and then text them for a booty call every now and then but refuse to acknowledge them after that, thus breaking their poor hearts!!!!!!??????!!!!!!!

Wait, that was possibly me that did that, but it's still a good comparison!


----------



## x SF med (Sep 16, 2013)

Sir, that was just wrong....  Like showing a bottle of the Glenlivet Signature to somebody and then not inviting them to partake in a dram...  oh, yeah, you've done that too...  

eta: actually, you did invite, just never followed through with the whiskey....


----------



## racing_kitty (Sep 16, 2013)

Dick move, big guy. Dick move.

I have a cat that can pee in shoes with laser guided precision, never dripping once on the surrounding floor. You'll never know it until...

...you post some more crap and not give us anything to work with!!!


----------



## Mac_NZ (Sep 21, 2013)

So, what about that case study....


----------



## x SF med (Sep 21, 2013)

Mac_NZ said:


> So, what about that case study....


 
2, maybe 3 more months, he'll get it finished, probably, but maybe not...


----------



## digrar (Sep 21, 2013)

Personally I blame the SNCOs, if they were more squared away this would be all over by now.


----------



## 0699 (Sep 22, 2013)

digrar said:


> Personally I blame *the SNCOs*, if they were more squared away this would be all over by now.


 
Bastards!!


----------



## Salt USMC (Sep 22, 2013)

Solution: Find a cadet with some writing talent and hand him the rest of your story outline.  Make it worth 25% of his grade.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 18, 2013)

It didn’t take long for Everly to express his displeasure.  Faith knew he deserved it, so he stood there and said nothing.  When Everly finally finished, he asked if Faith had anything he wanted to say.  “No sir, I think you covered it,” Faith replied.  “And… I’m sorry,” he added, meaning it.

“Let me tell you something,” Everly continued, unimpressed by Faith’s apology.  “You pull something like this again, and you won’t have to worry about quitting, because I’ll fire your sorry ass! “  Faith nodded his understanding.

Everly sighed and leaned back in his chair.  “If you hadn’t stomped off in a huff yesterday, I would have been able to talk to you about this,” he said, tapping a document he had placed on Faith’s desk.

“What’s that?” Faith asked.

“Read it,” Everly said as he rose to leave the room, “and then come talk to me.  But the bottom line is, there is a stoploss on.  No aviators, special forces, or intelligence officers are being allowed to voluntarily separate.”  Faith felt his heart sink.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 18, 2013)

After carefully reading the MILPER message announcing the pending stoploss, Faith noticed that while he and every other MI officer was effectively stoplossed, there was in fact a major loophole.  If one was accepted to graduate school before the stoploss date was effective, then he or she would be allowed to ETS.  “I guess the Army things grad school is more important than the war,” Faith opined to his wife over dinner that evening.  Faith was utterly confident that he would get accepted to a number of different graduate programs, so he wasn’t worried that he’d have to stick it out in the Army.  He expected notification letters to start arriving in about two weeks, and the implementing instructions for stoploss took effect in 30 days.  So he had plenty of time to get accepted to school, and get the hell out of the Army.  Faith ended up applying to about 20 graduate programs in the fields of leadership, management, and international relations.  This was a very expensive and time-consuming process, but it was worth it to ensure he would at least get accepted “somewhere.”

The letters started arriving sooner than he expected.  Faith decided that instead of opening each letter as it arrived, he would wait until he received all of the notification letters from all of the schools to which he applied, and open them all at once.  This decision drove his wife, Linda, nuts.  She was desperately curious to know where they would be going to school after Faith got out of the Army, and Faith’s insistence on waiting and opening all of the letters at once was unfathomable to her.  One afternoon, Faith caught her holding one of the envelopes up to the light to see if she could read the letter inside, which of course she couldn’t.  She was embarrassed, but Faith thought it was cute.  Finally, the day came when they had received all of the letters they were expecting.  Over dinner that night, Faith and his wife placed all of the letters in a pile on the table.

“Where should we start?” Linda asked eagerly.

“Well, why don’t we each take the letter from the school we like most, and start with there?” Faith suggested.  Linda immediately grabbed up the letter from Vanderbilt, while Faith thought a moment before picking up the letter from the University of Alabama.


----------



## racing_kitty (Oct 18, 2013)

Wow, he's a glutton for punishment.


----------



## 0699 (Oct 18, 2013)

racing_kitty said:


> Wow, he's a glutton for punishment.


 
Just like all of us following this case study... :wall:


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 18, 2013)

“3…2…” Faith said, counting down.  But Linda was already tearing open the letter she held.  Faith smiled and did the same with the letter from the University of Alabama.  When he opened the letter up, his eyes immediately fell on the following words:  “We regret to inform you…”  Faith looked up and from the expression on his wife’s face, he knew that the letter from Vandy must have held similar news.

Faith tried to put a brave face on, but he was both disappointed and alarmed by the rejection from Alabama.  Not only was it the school he wanted to go to most, it also had the lowest admission requirements; it was his “safe” school, the one he counted on to get into.  “Maybe our ‘next favorite’ schools?” he suggested cheerfully.


----------



## racing_kitty (Oct 19, 2013)

Rinse and repeat.  Is he wearing his gimp outfit?  Is there a safe word?  Was Christian Grey formerly his senior rater?  

What a masochist.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 19, 2013)

Why do I sense that every single one of those letters is a resounding "no way"? I guess the smart thing to do now would be to buck-up and try to make the most out of a career he already has. On a side note - was the thing about the grad school loophole true? Seems a bit odd to me that they would let critical jobs go because the guy wanted to go back to grad school.


----------



## DA SWO (Oct 19, 2013)

Faith is finally experiencing true failure.
Maybe Green Platoon will start looking attractive to him now.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> Why do I sense that every single one of those letters is a resounding "no way"? I guess the smart thing to do now would be to buck-up and try to make the most out of a career he already has. On a side note - was the thing about the grad school loophole true? Seems a bit odd to me that they would let critical jobs go because the guy wanted to go back to grad school.



If there was a grad school exemption for stoploss, I didn't know about it.  AFAIK I made that part up.  The Army stoplossed the hell out of us intel types, and there didn't seem to be a lot of wiggle room.



SOWT said:


> Faith is finally experiencing true failure.
> Maybe Green Platoon will start looking attractive to him now.



This is CPT Scott Faith we're talking about!  He's a war veteran, and a hell of a good guy.  Surely one of the 20 +/- grad schools he applied to will take him.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

But he didn’t get into his next favorite choice either.  Or the one after that.  In fact, when all of the letters were open and read, Scott Faith had not been accepted to a single graduate school.  Apparently his accomplishments and experience in the Army weren’t what graduates schools were looking for.  The only semi-bright spot was that he got waitlisted at Texas A&M.  Faith was deeply disappointed, but it passed quickly.  He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.  He looked over at his wife, who was taking it a lot harder than he was.

“But you worked so HARD!” Linda exclaimed, tears flowing gently down her face.  Faith nodded.  He had worked hard.  It was expensive, frustrating, and time-consuming to work through each application process.  Linda had worked hard too, proofing the application essays, researching programs, and providing moral support.  It had been a team effort, but while Linda held up her end, Faith felt like he clearly hadn’t held up his, since he managed to not get accepted by a single school.  He felt bad about that.  Linda furiously swept the pile of letters and open envelopes onto the floor.  The she, too, was over it.  “OK,” she said, “what are we going to do now?”

 “Well, think the first thing we need to do,” Faith answered, smiling, “is clean up the kitchen floor.”  It took Linda a moment to realize that her husband was kidding.  Then she smiled too and crouched on the floor as she and Faith cleaned up the flurry of broken dreams that were scattered throughout the kitchen.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 19, 2013)

Just let Mrs. Faith loose on the administration for those schools - don't think they would be in a position to deny the good old Captain then. Hell hath not fury like a women whose husband just got denied to 20 + grad schools after all.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

The in-real-life Mrs. Faith knows all about her husband getting rejected from multiple grad schools


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 19, 2013)

Was it really close to 20+ or was that an exaggeration?


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> Was it really close to 20+ or was that an exaggeration?



Exaggerated for dramatic effect.  I applied to seven and got rejected by five.  But one of the two I got accepted into was a pretty good one.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

Faith arrived at work early the next morning, a little less sure of himself than he had felt the day before.  He was in a bit of a dilemma; he couldn’t get into grad school, so he couldn’t get out of the Army.  He no longer wanted to be on active duty, but there didn’t seem to be a good way around the stoploss.  He didn’t mind going back to Iraq, or even over to Afghanistan, but he definitely did not want to go as part of some training team or as an augmentee to round out a National Guard unit.  Maybe he could call in some favors, if he had any left with anyone of any importance, and at least get into a major combat arms unit as either a battalion S2 or a brigade S2’s assistant.  He knew he would be good at those jobs.

Faith spent most of the morning poring over and sorting out the paperwork related to the shutdown of the 116th Trans.  This wasn’t really his job, but he knew he was good at it and it would help out the unit.  Besides, what else was he going to do?  It’s not like he had to prep for grad school or anything.  Around lunchtime, Simon Criss dropped in.  Faith was pleased to see his friend.

“So, I heard that things didn’t go so well with grad school admissions,” Criss said without preamble.  Faith didn’t even bother to ask how he knew.  “So… are you doing OK?” Criss inquired.

“I guess so.  I’m not surprised that I didn’t get in everywhere, but I’m surprised I didn’t get in at least somewhere.  What pisses me off is that all these kids who have been nowhere, and done nothing except sit in a classroom for all whopping 22 years that they’ve been alive, got into these schools ahead of me,” Faith ranted.  “I mean, what does a guy have to do to get into grad school these days?” 

Criss looked at his friend.  “OK bro,” he said, “let’s look at the numbers.  Dude, you graduated from a podunk college no one ever heard of, a year late, with a 2.7 GPA.  Your GRE scores are in the bottom half of all applicants.  The people you’re competing against come from major-league undergrad programs, and they’re putting up 3.8+ GPAs and top-10% GRE scores,” Criss reminded him.  “The applicant pool includes large numbers of veterans who are bailing out of all of the armed services at record rates.  So the one thing that makes you special, the fact that you’re a vet, isn’t so special anymore.  You need some expectation management, brother.”

Faith knew Criss was right.  But it didn’t make him feel any better.

“Looks like the doors to grad school are firmly shut,” Faith said morosely.

“Whenever one door closes, another opens,” Criss reminded him.

“I suppose,” Faith said, noncommittally. 

“Well, what are you going to do now?” Criss inquired.  “You can’t get out, an even if you wanted to, and even if you did, no grad school is going to take you.”

“Not one that I’d want to go to, anyway,” Faith admitted.

“Should have applied to Yale,” Criss said teasingly.

“Fuck those hippies,” Faith retorted.

“So, you feel up to a challenge of a different type?” Criss inquired.

“Sure.  Wait, what is it?” Faith said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.  “If it involves strippers, farm animals, binge drinking, and/or the commission of any kind of felony, count me out.”

“Moi?” Criss said in mock hurt.  “I would never think of such.  You, sir, insult me.”

“OK then, what?”

“How are you doing on PT these days?” Criss asked innocently.

“Are you kidding, bro?  It’s pretty much all I do around here these days,” Faith answered.

“Good, because your assessment and selection for the 16th SAVE begins tomorrow at 0430.”  Criss said, beaming.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 19, 2013)

Wait - I thought his poor grade from The Dud would keep him from that program? Unless he is infamous in the 16th as well and people would just simply ignore whatever OER that comes with his name on it.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> Wait - I thought his poor grade from The Dud would keep him from that program? Unless he is infamous in the 16th as well and people would just simply ignore whatever OER that comes with his name on it.



Hm, I wonder if that might come up during CPT Faith's assessment...


----------



## Salt USMC (Oct 19, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> “Good, because your assessment and selection for the 16th SAVE begins tomorrow at 0430.”  Criss said, beaming.


Hell yeah


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

“Um… wut?” Faith responded, incredulous.

“Your assessment for the 16th SAVE.  It starts tomorrow at 0430,” Criss repeated.

“But I didn’t even apply for the 16th,” Faith responded.

“Well, yeah, that’s technically true,” Criss conceded, looking sheepish.  “But I probably wouldn’t mention that during your interview if I were you.  Look, here are your orders, your reporting instructions, and your packing list,” he added, placing a stack of papers on his desk.  “Don’t be late, light, lost, or last,” he admonished.

“I can’t do assessment tomorrow,” Faith protested.  “It lasts what… a week?  I haven’t cleared it with anyone.  MAJ Everly is going to be PISSED.”

“Already cleared it with Everly,” Criss assured him.

“I need to run it by my wife,” Faith continued.

“Called her from the parking lot,” Criss countered.  “She was excited, and said ‘I know he can do it!’”

“…but I’m not ready!”

“You just said you were,” Criss said firmly.  “Look, it’s not rocket science.  We had an unexpected opening in 2nd Battalion.  They need an S2.  You’re fit, you’re mentally stable, you’re personable, and you’re a solid MI guy.  You’re exactly what the Element is looking for.  Now,” he added with a smile, “if you’re done making excuses, you need to go home, take your wife out to a nice dinner, and get some sleep.  Because you’re not going to be eating, sleeping, or seeing your wife for at least a week.”


----------



## racing_kitty (Oct 19, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> Wait - I thought his poor grade from The Dud would keep him from that program? Unless he is infamous in the 16th as well and people would just simply ignore whatever OER that comes with his name on it.



If the leaders are paying attention, it's not hard to tell when a 4/4 eval is an asshole with a grudge. Trust me on this.


----------



## 0699 (Oct 19, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> But he didn’t get into his next favorite choice either.  Or the one after that.  In fact, when all of the letters were open and read, Scott Faith had *not been accepted to a single graduate school*.  Apparently his accomplishments and experience in the Army weren’t what graduates schools were looking for.  The only semi-bright spot was that he got waitlisted at Texas A&M.  Faith was deeply disappointed, but it passed quickly.  He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.  He looked over at his wife, who was taking it a lot harder than he was.


 
He should have applied to the University of Phoenix...


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

0699 said:


> He should have applied to the University of Phoenix...



It's funny... I was taking classes with UoP for a long time, then they changed up the graduation requirements.  So I changed up schools.


----------



## 0699 (Oct 19, 2013)

Maybe I missed something.... What is the 16th SAVE?  Is it a fictional 160th? :-/


----------



## 0699 (Oct 19, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> It's funny... I was taking classes with UoP for a long time, then they changed up the graduation requirements.  So *I changed up schools*.


 
Moving on up, to the East Side, to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyy...


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

0699 said:


> Maybe I missed something.... What is the 16th SAVE?  Is it a fictional 160th? :-/



16th SAVE is the Special Operations Aviation Element.  Much like the 2nd Special Forces Group and the... 116th Transportation Battalion (or whatever unit it is that CPT Faith is currently assigned to), the 16th SAVE is a completely fictional unit.  With absolutely no relation to any units that anyone on this site may have been in, at any time.  Ever.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

0699 said:


> Moving on up, to the East Side, to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyy...



Lol-- not much further.  But Webster University was willing to work with me, as a completely new-to-them student, in a way that UofP, with a year + and many thousands of the Army's dollars, was not.  So buh-bye UofP and hello, Webster.


----------



## 0699 (Oct 19, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> 16th SAVE is the Special Operations Aviation Element.  Much like the 2nd Special Forces Group and the... 116th Transportation Battalion (or whatever unit it is that CPT Faith is currently assigned to), the 16th SAVE is a completely fictional unit.  With absolutely no relation to any units that anyone on this site may have been in, at any time.  Ever.


 
Thank you.  Makes sense now.

Reminds me a little of 9th Communications Bn; I wish that had been a fictional unit too...


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

Faith stood up.  The shock had passed, and now he felt energized by the challenge.  An incredible opportunity had just fallen into his lap, and he planned on capitalizing on it.  “OK,” he said with finality, “I’m going to do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Criss said encouragingly.

“I thought you were going to invite me to run a marathon or something,” Faith said, laughing.  “I wasn’t expecting to be trying out for a Tier One unit.  Any words of advice?” Faith inquired.

Criss thought for a second.  “Just one.  Do you know the motto of the 16th SAVE?”

Faith did.  “Never Say Quit.”

“That’s right,” Criss stated.  “NSQ.  If you remember that, you’ll be alright.”

That seemed a bit cryptic to Faith, but it was all his friend would say about the assessment and selection process of the 16th Special Aviation Element.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 19, 2013)

OK, so tomorrow CPT Faith starts his assessment and selection for the 16th SAVE.  I want to re-iterate that this is a fictionalized account, and as far as I know, no SOF unit does an assessment/selection like what I'm about to describe here.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 19, 2013)

Sooo no pillow fight contests?


----------



## DA SWO (Oct 19, 2013)

EOD Jello Wrestling isn't out, we hope.


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Oct 20, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Exaggerated for dramatic effect.  I applied to seven and got rejected by five.  But one of the two I got accepted into was a pretty good one.


When did Harvard accept you??


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

SkrewzLoose said:


> When did Harvard accept you??


^^^ H-A-T-E!!!! lol

 Faith arrived at the designated place approximately a half hour early.  He began to get nervous as the time on his watch crept towards 0430 and he was still the only one there.  He went back to his truck and checked—twice—the instruction sheet that Criss gave him.  No, he was definitely in the right place.  But where was everyone else?  His instructions specified that no watching, rings, or any other adornment were to be worn during assessment.  At 0420, he took off his watch and wedding band, the only two pieces of jewelry he owned, and hid them under the seat.  He also pulled out his cell phone.  While he hated to wake his friend Simon Criss so early in the morning, Faith felt like he had to be in the wrong place.  He called and left a message on Criss’s voicemail.  Faith cranked his truck back up and drove up and down the deserted stretch of road where his instructions told him to be.  He checked the date and the time once more.  Nope; today, here, right now.  Faith parked again and turned off the lights.  He felt a creepy sense of anxiety as the time passed 0430.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

Almost immediately after 0430, Faith saw headlights coming towards him, and he felt a small sense of relief.  He exited his truck, retrieved his kit bag full of the items specified on the packing list, and set the bag down at his feet. He had hoped that the person arriving was another candidate like him, but as the vehicle got closer he saw it was a government van.  The van stopped an uncomfortably close distance from him, the doors opened and two men emerged.  The van’s headlights were still shining full on Faith’s face, and the intensity of the light made it hard for him to see anything outside of a narrow band around himself.

“Candidate Faith?” it was more like a statement of fact than a question.

“Yes,” Faith said firmly.

“What are you doing out here, candidate?  We’ve been driving around looking for you since 0430!” a voice demanded.

“This is where my reporting instructions said to meet,” Faith replied.

“If that is true, candidate, why is everyone else waiting for you at the flagpole on the 16th SAVE compound?” another voice asked, tauntingly.  “This guy wants to be our S2, the person responsible for finding the enemy for us, and he can’t even find the friendly linkup point,” the voice scoffed.

“Look, I think you hurt his feelings!” the other voice declared, noticing Faith’s face beginning to turn red.

“Well, I’m sorry about the mixup,” Faith said, “If you want to point me in the right direction, I’m ready to get started.”

“Get started!?” Voice 1 said incredulously.  “Can you believe this guy?  ‘Get started,’ he says.  Candidate, your assessment is already over!  The standard in our unit is right cargo, right place, right time, plus or minus 30 seconds.  That time was… a minute and a half ago.  Candidate, you are already a no-go!”


----------



## CDG (Oct 20, 2013)

Make it or break it moment for Capt. Faith right now.  His reaction is exactly what the evaluators are looking for.  He has a reputation as a hothead, and I'm sure they are well aware of that.


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Oct 20, 2013)

Criss and The Dud are secretly in cahoots!!


----------



## policemedic (Oct 20, 2013)

Never say quit, young Captain


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

“You might as well take that kit bag, get back in your truck, and head back to your unit,” the other voice said.

Faith felt exasperated.  He was annoyed that his friend Simon had given him bad information about when and where he was supposed to be for his assessment, and he was disappointed that his tryout for the 16th was over before it even began.  And now he was getting hazed by… somebody.  Two somebodies, actually.  Angry words jumped to Faith’s lips, but they stopped there.  Since he had already failed out of the assessment, there was no sense in leaving with bad blood.

“Well, gentlemen, thank you for the opportunity to try out for the 16th,” Faith said, picking up his kit bag.  “I deeply regret that I failed to accomplish the mission this morning, I badly want to be in this unit and I’ll be back again for the next assessment.”


----------



## CDG (Oct 20, 2013)

Goddammit Captain Faith!  NSQ!


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

There was a pause as Faith turned to put his kit bag back in his truck, as if the other two men didn’t expect this.  But they recovered quickly.

“Where do you think you’re going, candidate?” Voice One shouted as he emerged from the shadows and into the light.  “No one dismissed you!  You’re done when we say you’re done, and not a moment before.  Do you understand that?”

“That is,” said Voice Two, moving forward and revealing himself as well, “unless you want to quit.  Do you want to quit, candidate?”  Faith assured both of them that he didn’t.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself, candidate,” said Voice One.  In the light, Faith could see his name, Spencer, and the man’s rank, specialist.

“I don’t want to quit,” Faith said emphatically.  “Not now, not ever.”

“Good,” said Voice Two, also known as Sergeant Anderson.  “Candidate Scott Faith, you are assessing for a staff position within the 16th Special Operations Aviation Element.  For the next week, everything you do, everything you say is subject to being monitored and/or recorded.  Everything you see is subject to the non-disclosure agreement you will sign after the PT test.  You will not discuss anything that happens over the next week with anyone who doesn’t have a legitimate need-to-know.  Do you have any questions?” Faith indicated he didn’t. 

“Good,” said SPC Spencer, with a wicked smile.  “Now, set that kit bag on the ground and open it up.  Inspection time.”


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

Back when he was in ROTC, then-Cadet Faith had made the mistake of thinking that the packing list for Air Assault school was more of a… suggestion than a hard and fast requirement.  He only made that mistake once.  Faith had spent a lot of time and effort ensuring he had everything on the packing list for the 16th SAVE assessment, down to the smallest detail.  Everything in the kit bag was organized, prepared, and squared away.  He watched as Specialist Spencer totally wrecked any semblance of order or organization the bag might have held by flinging things out of it right and left.

“Look at this, Andy,” Spencer said to SGT Anderson.  “Look at all this 550 cord on this compass!  Candidate Faith, did your packing list say anything about 550 cord?”

Faith wasn’t sure how he should answer.

“Well, yes, I think it was the fourth item down in the second column, under the ‘optional items’ header,” he replied, trying not to sound like a smart ass.  It didn’t work.

Spencer bristled at Faith’s comment.  “I bet you’re one of those know-it-all officers, aren’t you, candidate?” Spencer exclaimed, standing up to face Faith.  “You know everything, don’t you, down to the last letter of the law.  Well guess what?  This is the 16th SAVE, we have our OWN rules here.”  Turning to SGT Anderson, Spencer called out “Unauthorized attachment to issued equipment!” and removed the compass from Faith’s gear.  Anderson jotted a note down on a clipboard he was carrying.

“Water in the canteens,” Spencer called out to Anderson, who duly noted it on his clipboard.  You’re your packing list say ‘two canteens AND WATER,’ candidate?” Spencer demanded.  Faith conceded that it did not, but still thought it was pretty reasonable to arrive at an assessment and selection course for a special operations unit with one’s canteens topped off with water.  “Well, you won’t be taking THESE with you to assessment.”  He removed the two canteens from their pouches on Faith’s web gear and tossed them unceremoniously into the back of Faith’s truck. 

“Get your stuff packed back up and give me your car keys,” Spencer instructed.  “Hurry up!” he added when Faith bent down to re-pack his belongings.  After jamming all of his things back into the kit bag and zipping it shut, Faith held out his keys.  “Now get in the back of the van,” Spencer told him.  Faith opened the rear door of the van and climbed in.  He could see absolutely nothing in the back of the van, but he could sense someone seated on the floor beside him.  Who was it?  Another candidate, or a cadre member?  Faith assumed it was another candidate, and was about to whisper something to him, when he heard Sergeant Johnson bark “No fucking talking, candidates!” from the front of the van.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 20, 2013)

After driving around in the back of the van for what felt like at least an hour and a half, the vehicle stopped and the back door was jerked open abruptly.  Faith, who had been dozing, suddenly felt wide awake as he was dragged from the van by screaming cadre members dressed in black fatigues.  The sudden transition from sitting in a completely quiet, completely blacked-out van to standing in bright sunlight was disorienting, but Faith nonetheless noticed that the person who had been seated beside him in the van, whom Faith had assumed was a man, was actually female.   He didn’t have a chance to get her name, though, as the males and females were separated, directed to strip, given a medical checkup, issued flipflops and orange jump suits, and led to individual cells consisting of crumbling concrete and that vaguely smelled of stale urine.  They weren’t there long, however, before each of them was led into an interrogation cell, and then subjected to various forms of harassment.  Faith remembered being deprived of food, sleep, and the abilities to see and hear, as well as some interesting stress positions and some mild physical abuse.  There was also a lot of yelling.  Faith’s interrogators kept forcing him to endure what they called “the coffin,” which was a narrow box that was uncomfortably small.  Because of his size and height, Faith’s captors literally had to cram him into the coffin every time.  Faith feigned cooperation while bowing himself up to make it difficult from them to squeeze him into the box.  He also acted utterly terrified of the confining space of the coffin.  Faith, who had regularly been in tighter places than this while doing recreational caving in northwestern Georgia during his college days, wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated by the close confines, which were clearly designed to induce a sense of claustrophobia.  In fact, Faith found the coffin reassuring.  As long as he was in that box, he 1) wasn’t being forced to talk, and 2) wasn’t being beaten. 

Faith made a big display of fear about going into the box, and a huge expression of relief after it was open and he was allowed out.  He toyed with his captors about being forced in, even calling out “please don’t throw me into that briar patch!” before once again being confined to the box.  None of his captors seemed to get the Brer Rabbit reference.  The gig was up, though, when his captors flung open the lid to the coffin only to find Faith sound asleep inside his coffin.  They informed him that they would find something more… appropriate (i.e. uncomfortable) for him.  And they did.

To Faith, who had gone to a military junior college and was a member of a major college fraternity, this experience was nothing more than a more stepped-up hazing session.  It was annoying and uncomfortable, but Faith thought he handled it well.  He was surprised, therefore, when at the official end of what the cadre referred to as the “SERE Phase,” that he was called before a “termination board” to be counselled on his poor performance.  He was shown video clips of his interrogations, without further explanation, and was informed that his performance up to this point was “unacceptable,” and that if he didn’t start “meeting the high standards of the Element,” he was going to get dropped from the assessment program and returned to his unit.  After what Faith estimated had been two sleepless days and nights, the candidates were returned to the blacked-out vans and whisked away to a different location.


----------



## Salt USMC (Oct 20, 2013)




----------



## Daedalus (Oct 20, 2013)

I can already see Faith having problems from a pride perspective - he does not take being told he is wrong very well. I think the assessors know this and will do everything then can to get under his skin and see if  he can either control his temper or not.


----------



## DA SWO (Oct 20, 2013)

Trying to get him to say "fuck it, I quit".

Just play the game (FWIW- I fell asleep in the box and fell on the floor when they opened it up).


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Oct 21, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> ~SNIP
> 
> Faith made a big display of fear about going into the box, and a huge expression of relief after it was open and he was allowed out.  He toyed with his captors about being forced in, even calling out “*please don’t throw me into that briar patch!*” before once again being confined to the box.  None of his captors seemed to get the Brer Rabbit reference.  The gig was up, though, when his captors flung open the lid to the coffin only to find Faith sound asleep inside his coffin.  They informed him that they would find something more… appropriate (i.e. uncomfortable) for him.  And they did.
> 
> ~SNIP


Excellent!!  
+10 for that allusion, Sir!


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

SkrewzLoose said:


> Excellent!!
> +10 for that allusion, Sir!



I'm just pleased someone actually got it.  Not a whole lot of Joel Chandler Harris fans out there anymore.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

It was daylight again when Faith and the other candidates arrived at their new destination.  They were given five minutes to change into PT clothes and report to the track.  Faith thought that the PT test was straightforward enough, although it was a bit disconcerting that the graders did not count repetitions out loud.  He was also not permitted to wear a watch on the run, so he had no idea how fast he actually ran.  He felt like he ran very quickly, but he felt more tired than he usually did after running only two miles, and idly wondered if the route was longer than it was supposed to be.  Faith finished the run in the middle of the pack.  The graders, waiting at the finish line, solemnly wrote down the finish times but did not say a word to the runners.  Immediately after finishing the run, the group was directed to the pull-up bar and Faith somehow found himself at the head of the line.  The bar was high off the ground, and even though Faith was unusually tall, he had to leap and grab the bar with one hand before being able to get into position to do the exercise.  The bar was very wide, so Faith wasn’t able to close his hand around it, and the bar was simply placed in sockets on the uprights, so it rolled around in his hands.  It was almost as if the bar was constructed to make it as difficult as possible. Out of breath from the run, with the bar rolling in his hands, Faith still managed to knock out ten “clean” pull-ups and three more through the use of kipping.  He hoped that would be enough.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 31, 2013)

I was halfway expecting pit-falls and Indiana Jones-style blow dart traps to appear in that run with the way the assessement seems to be going.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> I was halfway expecting pit-falls and Indiana Jones-style blow dart traps to appear in that run with the way the assessement seems to be going.



Well, assessment isn't over yet...


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Still in their sweaty PT uniforms, Faith and his assessment cohort were herded into a small classroom.  On each desk were a stack of papers and two #2 pencils.  A thin, older man wearing a technician’s coat stood at the far end of the room, in front of a dusty chalkboard.  “Candidates, your next event is a psychological evaluation,” the technician intoned monotonously.  “Before you is a battery of psychological tests.  These will measure your mental aptitude and your psychological fitness.  You will not exit this room for any reason, until you have completed this battery of tests,” the technician admonished.  He walked over to the door, opened it, and said “You may begin” before exiting the room.  The door made a solid “click!” behind him as he exited.

Faith picked up a pencil and went to write his name at the top of the test.  Then he noticed that it was brand new and had never been sharpened.  Typical.  He picked up his second pencil and saw it, too, was without a point.  He glanced around the room and saw the other candidates with similarly perplexed looks on their faces.  “Um, anyone have a pencil that actually works?” he asked aloud.  He saw the candidate next to him flinch, Faith guessed the other man was surprised to hear someone else’s voice.

“Not me,” said a tall, thin candidate.

“Me neither,” said a woman’s voice.  Faith supposed she was the one he had sat beside on his way to the SERE training.  He was pleased she was still in the running for a spot on the team.

As it turned out, no one had an operational pencil.  Faith stood up and walked over to the desk where the technician had been seated.  There was one drawer in the desk; it was empty.  A quick check by the candidates revealed that there were no pencil sharpeners, and no other writing utensils anywhere in the room.  Faith was perplexed, and a little annoyed.  How did the 16th expect to conduct a psychological evaluation without pencils, or any means to sharpen them?


----------



## x SF med (Oct 31, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Well, assessment isn't over yet...


 
let's see.... at a paragraph at a time, this case study will take until Jesus returns before it is complete....  just sittin here waiting on the Rapture, Sir...  Should I start singing "Bring in the Sheaves" or "Jesus loves me"  or would Bach's Easter Mass in B Minor be more time consuming and more relaxing....

Have I mentioned lately thath you are worse than a crack dealer with these Case Studies...  get us hooked then make us wait...


and, yeah.... you left us without pencil sharpeners too...


----------



## Chopstick (Oct 31, 2013)

Oh. Just pencils? When Daedalus mentioned Indiana Jones I thought it was going to be snakes.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

A short time later, Faith found himself at the head of the line in a large indoor pool.  The right side of the pool contained a mockup of a Blackhawk helicopter, suspended about ten feet above the pool by a large metal arm that was anchored to the ground.  On the left side of the pool, separated by floating line, the candidates waited for the instructions for their next event.  The initial excitement of assessment was starting to wear off, and fatigue was settling like a blanket over Faith’s brain.  He shook his head vigorously to clear it as an instructor dressed in black fatigues began speaking.

“Candidates!  At the sound of the whistle, you will enter the water.  You will then touch the bottom of the pool, and swim 50 meters, submerged, to the designated end point.” The speaker gestured to a floating line in the distance.  “Your flight helmet must remain on your head for the duration of this event.  Observe the demonstrator.”  At this, another instructor leaped into the pool, sank to the bottom, pushed off, and effortless swam underwater to the designated end point.

Faith looked apprehensively at the water.  Dressed now in light-weight body armor, flight suit, and boots, his body felt absolutely leaden.  His flight helmet was soggy, ill-fitting, and smelled mildly of mildew.  50 meters wasn’t a long distance, but having to do it all underwater, with all this gear on… Faith wasn’t so sure he could do it.

“At my whistle, begin!”


----------



## Chopstick (Oct 31, 2013)

What about the pencils?


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 31, 2013)

So...did they find a way to sharpen the pencils?


----------



## x SF med (Oct 31, 2013)

Chopstick said:


> What about the pencils?


 


Daedalus said:


> So...did they find a way to sharpen the pencils?


 

use the concrete floor like a piece of sandpaper.
find a sharp corner of a metal desk, chair or blackboard.
break a window and use the broken glass like a knife.

lots of ways to sharpen the pencils....

too bad that's not the only point of that assessment.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 31, 2013)

I take that is one of the many awesome tricks they teach you in the Q course?


----------



## x SF med (Oct 31, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> I take that is one of the many awesome tricks they teach you in the Q course?


 

no, as a kid building crap in the garage and being too stubborn to go in the house to get a knife or use a pencil sharpener...  you never had to adapt and overcome as a kid... what were you a friggin saint or something?


----------



## Chopstick (Oct 31, 2013)

x SF med said:


> use the concrete floor like a piece of sandpaper.
> find a sharp corner of a metal desk, chair or blackboard.
> break a window and use the broken glass like a knife.
> 
> ...


Shhhhhhhhhhush......I want to hear the tall guy tell it.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Oh crap!  Sorry, got ahead of myself.

In speaking with the other candidates, Faith and the others discovered that no one had any tools they could use to sharpen the pencils, or any ideas where they might acquire any.  One candidate decided to stick his head out into the hallway to call for the technician, but the door was locked.

“Any ideas?” Faith asked aloud.  If they hadn’t been on 30+ hours of no sleep, they might have been able to come up with a plan.  But the best thing he could come up with was to use the leg of his chair to crush the tip of the pencil, and then peel away the splinters until enough of the lead emerged to make it useful.  After a bit of experimentation, Faith was able to get something that just might work.  He showed the other candidates what he had done, and pretty soon everyone was hard at work on their psych assessments.  But shortly after they began, the door opened and the technician reappeared.

“Candidates, the psychological evaluation is over,” he announced.  “Put down your pencils and fall out for the swim test.”

Faith knew that he and the other candidates had spent a lot of time trying to sort out the pencil situation, but even if they had started with two sharp #2s, they still wouldn’t have gotten through the battery of tests in such a short period of time.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

NOW the bit about the swim test:

A short time later, Faith found himself at the head of the line in a large indoor pool.  The right side of the pool contained a mockup of a Blackhawk helicopter, suspended about ten feet above the pool by a large metal arm that was anchored to the ground.  On the left side of the pool, separated by floating line, the candidates waited for the instructions for their next event.  The initial excitement of assessment was starting to wear off, and fatigue was settling like a blanket over Faith’s brain.  He shook his head vigorously to clear it as an instructor dressed in black fatigues began speaking.

“Candidates!  At the sound of the whistle, you will enter the water.  You will then touch the bottom of the pool, and swim 50 meters, submerged, to the designated end point.” The speaker gestured to a floating line in the distance.  “Your flight helmet must remain on your head for the duration of this event.  Observe the demonstrator.”  At this, another instructor leaped into the pool, sank to the bottom, pushed off, and effortless swam underwater to the designated end point.

Faith looked apprehensively at the water.  Dressed now in light-weight body armor, flight suit, and boots, his body felt absolutely leaden.  His flight helmet was soggy, ill-fitting, and smelled mildly of mildew.  50 meters wasn’t a long distance, but having to do it all underwater, with all this gear on… Faith wasn’t so sure he could do it.

“At my whistle, begin!”

The whistle blew, and Faith leaped into the water.  Finding the bottom was easy enough, as the weight of his equipment brought him straight down.  He touched the bottom of the pool with his hands, and pushed off towards the 50 meter marker… and went almost nowhere.  He floundered a bit, making almost no progress, and barely made it to the surface again before he ran out of breath.  He managed to thrash he way back to the edge of the pool and, gagging, grab hold of the side.

“Candidate Faith, you are a no-go at this event,” he was informed.  Faith waved his hand in acknowledgement


----------



## x SF med (Oct 31, 2013)

@Daedalus @Chopstick

See, adapt and overcome....  jeez...


too bad Faith can't swim...


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

x SF med said:


> @Daedalus @Chopstick
> 
> See, adapt and overcome....  jeez...
> 
> ...



Not with all that gear he's wearing!  How can the 16th expect anyone to go the distance underwater wearing all that crap?  The guy specifically said he had to keep his flight helmet on... wtf...


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 31, 2013)

Just have to use the under-water hook-shot and reel yourself to the other end of the pool...I thought everyone was issued those.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Daedalus said:


> Just have to use the under-water hook-shot and reel yourself to the other end of the pool...I thought everyone was issued those.



You don't get the cool-guy stuff until AFTER you pass assessment... which for Faith isn't looking very likely right now.


----------



## Chopstick (Oct 31, 2013)

Faith should have brought the pencil to the pool.  MacGyver factor!


----------



## digrar (Oct 31, 2013)

Read through the test and see if the last thing on it says not to fill out the test.


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Faith was directed to the end of the line and instructed to face the far wall, away from the pool.  The line moved slowly, as candidates attempted the swim and then rejoined the line after having failed the event.  Faith noticed that the female candidate was not among them.  Probably quit, or even drowned, Faith thought.  At that moment, Faith’s stomach gurgled and he realized that not only had he not slept in over a day, he hadn’t eaten, either.  He didn’t feel hungry up to this point, but now he was ravenous.  Maybe he could scare up something to eat after he passed this swim test.  If he passed, he corrected himself.

When it was his turn once again, he took a deep breath, sank to the bottom, pushed off the side with his legs as hard as he could, and furiously struggled towards the 50m buoy.  As he was trying—and failing—to make much progress, he noticed a collection of equipment at the bottom of the pool.  There were a couple of sets of body armor, equipment harnesses, and even a pair of boots strewn across the bottom.  Faith felt bad for the candidates that were going to have to recover them before their next attempt at this event.

Faith was a strong swimmer, but he wasn’t stronger than the pool when he was wearing all of that gear.  He failed again, and this time had to be helped from the pool.  He thought he may have blacked out at some point, but he wasn’t sure.  He laid down at the edge of the pool, sputtering and trying to catch his breath.

“Candidate Faith, you are a no-go at this event for a second time.  Are you feeling OK?  Do you want to quit?”

“Yes,” Faith answered.

“You want to quit, are you sure?”

“What?  No, I don’t want to quit; yes, I’m feeling OK,” he said with annoyance as he rolled onto his belly and got to his feet. 

Up to this point, Faith felt pretty comfortable about his performance in the assessment.  But he had just failed the same event, twice.  There had to be a solution here, something he was overlooking.  What he was being asked to do was impossible… but he had seen the demonstrator do it, and surely not all of the other candidates who were no longer in line with him had all failed.  There was something that he was overlooking.  He needed to figure out what it was, fast.


----------



## Daedalus (Oct 31, 2013)

Maybe he could, I dunno, take off the rest of his gear and keep his helmet on?:-"


----------



## Marauder06 (Oct 31, 2013)

Didn't you hear the instructions?  They were quite explicit.  Don't you think that if taking that gear off was an option, he would have been briefed on that?


----------



## policemedic (Oct 31, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Didn't you hear the instructions?  They were quite explicit.  Don't you think that if taking that gear off was an option, he would have been briefed on that?



Nope. 

But he was told what he needed to know to complete the evolution


----------



## x SF med (Oct 31, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Didn't you hear the instructions?  They were quite explicit.  Don't you think that if taking that gear off was an option, he would have been briefed on that?


 
He was, you must keep your flight helmet on to complete the event.  Were you not paying attention to his briefing?

explicitly:


> “Your flight helmet must remain on your head for the duration of this event. Observe the demonstrator.”


----------



## DA SWO (Oct 31, 2013)

x SF med said:


> He was, you must keep your flight helmet on to complete the event.  Were you not paying attention to his briefing?
> 
> explicitly:


That's what I was going to say.

The only thing not on the floor of the pool is a flight helmet.

Now post the next segment damnit!


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Oct 31, 2013)

Out side the boxx thinking is the only thing thats gonna get Faith thru this bag full of faggotry he is in!


----------



## Mac_NZ (Nov 1, 2013)

The instructor has stated that the only thing that needs to stay on is the flight helmet, dump the rest of that shit and swim.  There is a reason CIRAS, RBAV etc have a release system and it aint so stitch bitches can charge more for them.


----------



## Gypsy (Nov 1, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Didn't you hear the instructions?  They were quite explicit.  Don't you think that if taking that gear off was an option, he would have been briefed on that?


 
Not necessarily.

 “Your flight helmet must remain on your head for the duration of this event."  Doesn't mean the rest of the gear MUST be kept on.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 1, 2013)

On his way back to the line to wait for his third attempt at the swim, it all came together for him.  The instructions were that his HELMET had to remain on, there was nothing said about the rest of his gear.  That explains the equipment strewn across the bottom of the pool; several candidates had already cracked the code.  Faith reasoned he would have figured this out for himself sooner if it wasn’t for the stress and lack of sleep. 

At the end of the line, facing once again away from the pool, Faith loosened his boot laces and found the quick release strap that would divest him of the burden of his body armor with a single tug.  He felt almost giddy as realized that he now actually had a chance at passing this event.  He shuffled backwards towards the pool when directed by the cadre.  He had backed closer to the pool twice before another candidate rejoined the line.  This man seemed very upset; Faith heard him muttering under his breath.

“Hey man,” Faith whispered, “All you need to do is…”

“No talking, candidates!”  a cadre member barked.  Faith remained silent, but made a display of loosening his boots and “practicing” the quick release on his gear.  Maybe one of the other candidates would see or hear what he was doing and make the connection about what it took to pass this test.

When it was Faith’s turn again, he leaped confidently into the pool.  As soon as he was submerged, he triggered the quick release on his body armor, jettisoned his equipment belt, and shed his boots.  By the time he reached the bottom of the pool, he was wearing only his socks, the flight suit, and his helmet.  He pushed off as hard as he could from the side of the pool, and easily swam the 50 meters to the buoy, bobbing up well on the other side of the “pass” line.

“Exit the pool, candidate,” was all he was told.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 1, 2013)

Faith was directed to wait in the locker room for a time, and was then brought back out to poolside.

“Candidates!” a burly cadre member bellowed.  “You will retrieve the gear at the bottom of the pool and return it to serviceable condition.  You will put all of your equipment back on and be lined up on the side of the pool, ready for your next evolution.  You have five minutes to make this happen,” he added, making a show of clicking a button on the stopwatch he held in his hand.  Two candidates immediately jumped into the pool.

“Wait!”  Faith exclaimed.  “We should come up with a plan.”

“There’s no time for that,” countered another candidate, elbowing his way past Faith.  “We only have five minutes!”

Faith felt a moment of frustration.  There was no way all of them were going to be able to get all of their own equipment retrieved, sorted, put back together, and put back on in five minutes unless they all worked together.

“Well, Einstein said that if he only had five minutes to solve a problem, he’d spend four minutes figuring out the problem, and then one minute solving it,” said a woman’s voice to his right.  He turned and saw the same woman who had been with him in the truck that first day, and who had apparently figured out the swim test much sooner than he had.  “What do you suggest?”

Faith knew that the Einstein quote wasn’t exactly right, but whatever; it was close enough for government work.  Faith suggested a team effort, in which one group retrieved the gear from the bottom, another group sorted it into piles, and yet another group put the pieces back together.  There was apparently only one person candidate who knew how to put the body armor back together after the quick release had been triggered (it was not as intuitive as Faith thought it would be).  In less than 30 seconds, the candidates had figured out a plan and it was in motion.  Things didn’t go exactly smoothly, but they went quickly and efficiently, and working together the whole process went much faster than it would have if they had all tried to work independently.  Even the candidates that initially jumped the gun joined in the group effort.  Faith had just finished tying his boots when the cadre member with the stopwatch called time.

“Candidates!” he announced.  “You will now exit the pool area through the door to your left.  You will proceed in single file to the equipment draw area, where you will receive your rucksack and a plastic M-16 and await further instructions regarding your next event.”


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 1, 2013)

Faith received back the rucksack he had brought with him to the assessment, and a plastic M-16 that looked like it had been made back in the 1970s.  He had expected the next event to be a footmarch, but was surprised to learn that it was, in fact, a land navigation exercise.  He and the rest of the candidates we directed to ground their rucks and await further instructions.  Faith set his rucksack down and laid down with his back against it.  He took off his body armor, boots, and equipment and spread them over the top of the ruck to dry.  Several other candidates were close to where he was, but no one seemed to feel like talking.  Faith sat down on the ground with his back against his upright rucksack.  He placed the butt of the rubber M-16 on the ground beside his hip, muzzle pointed upward, and wrapped his right arm around the stock.

Then, following the tradition of Soldiers everywhere who had nothing particular to do, and no particular place to be, promptly fell asleep in the late afternoon sun.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 1, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Faith received a rucksack with a moderately weighted load, and a plastic M-16 that looked like it had been made back in the 1970s.  He had expected the next event to be a footmarch, but was surprised to learn that it was, in fact, a land navigation exercise.  He and the rest of the candidates we directed to ground their rucks and await further instructions.  Faith set his rucksack down and laid down with his back against it.  He took off his body armor, boots, and equipment and spread them over the top of the ruck to dry.  Several other candidates were close to where he was, but no one seemed to feel like talking.  Faith sat down on the ground with his back against his upright rucksack.  He placed the butt of the rubber M-16 on the ground beside his hip, muzzle pointed upward, and wrapped his right arm around the stock.
> 
> Then, following the tradition of Soldiers everywhere who had nothing particular to do, and no particular place to be, promptly fell asleep in the late afternoon sun.


Bad move, he wasn't told he could sleep.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 3, 2013)

By the time Faith awoke, it was dusk.  On the air, above the smell of his still-damp clothing and equipment, Faith smelled something… good.  While he felt refreshed after his nap, he was still ravenously hungry.  Without a watch, he had no idea how long he had been asleep, but it was probably for a couple of hours.  After what he and the other candidates had been through over the last couple of days, he needed it.  He stood up and stretched.  Most of the other candidates we passed out asleep around him.  Faith would probably still be asleep too, if he hadn’t been overpowered by a strong need to pee.  He observed a short serving line set up off to one side of the area where the candidates had assembled.  One of the men behind the serving line, seeing Faith stand and stretch, gave a friendly wave.  Faith waved back.

“I hope that is for us,” Faith heard a woman’s voice say.  Startled, he turned to see the female candidate he had seen, but never really spoken to, before now.

“Me too,” Faith agreed, and he really meant it.  He had eaten a grand total of absolutely nothing since assessment started… whenever that was.  Without a watch, and having been in a box after being “captured” in the initial phase of evaluation, he not only didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t even know what day it was.

“Hey, I’m Scott Faith,” he said, walking over to where she was seated and extending a hand.  The woman’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the line of servers.  “I don’t think they care about us talking to each other,” he assured her.  She took his hand with a firm grip.

“I’m Shannon,” she told him.  Faith noticed that she didn’t give a last name.  She had an “officer” look to her, and since she was female, she had to be in some sort of support capacity.   Most likely, Faith assumed, military intelligence.

“Are you intel too, Shannon?” Faith asked her.  She shook her head.  “Admin?” nope.  “Supply?” She wasn’t that, either.  Faith was perplexed.

“I’m a pilot,” she informed him.

“I didn’t realize the 16th had any female pilots,” Faith said without really thinking.

“I’m not assessing for the 16th,” Shannon informed him.  Not waiting for follow-up questions, she added, “What do you say we go over to that line, and see if we can talk those cooks into giving us some chow?”


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 3, 2013)

The men in the serving line were, in fact cooks and they were, in fact, quite happy to serve up chow.  They were friendly and talkative, and Faith and Shannon found out that it had been almost two full days since assessment started “Feels a lot longer,” Shannon confided.  The cooks also told them that the assessment cadre would be back at 1800 hours sharp, which was about a half-hour from now.

“What do you think we should do with the rest of the candidates?” Shannon asked Faith after they had returned to their rucksacks, their plates piled high with steaming food.

“Well, on the one hand,” Faith responded, “It looks like they all really need their rest.  On the other hand, I’m not sure the food is going to last past the time that the cadre show back up.”  Faith thought a bit more.  “Let’s do this—there are only like a dozen or so other candidates here.  Let’s get them all a plate of food and bring it over to them.  Then we’ll wake them up and give them their chow.  That will give them the max sleep time, prevent a rush to the chow line, and still make sure everyone gets something to eat.”

Shannon agreed with this course of action, and the two of them soon had every candidate supplied with a plate of warm food, a flatware packet, and a bottle of ice water.  Some of the candidates were pretty groggy at first, but the prospect of finally having something to eat woke them up quickly.

Faith and Shannon chatted over their meal.  Faith was pretty impressed; she seemed fit, smart, and personable.  She was also easy on the eyes, Faith noticed.

“Did you get some sleep, finally?” Faith asked.

“Yes, a couple of hours.  I also napped out during the SERE portion,” Shannon confided.

“How did you do that?” Faith asked, impressed.

“Well, when they weren’t beating the crap out of me and trying to get me to sign a confession, they had me in this little cage with no doors or windows,” she explained.

“But they told us specifically not to sleep,” Faith countered.

“Yep!” Shannon answered conspiratorially, shoveling in another mouthful of food.

“So you got some sleep… did you get anything to eat, too?”

“Yep!” Shannon said again.

Now Faith was REALLY impressed.  “How the hell did you manage that?”

“I asked them for something to eat, and I kept asking until they gave me something,” she answered.  “Every time they wanted to talk to me, I told them I couldn’t think straight because I was so hungry.  So eventually they gave me a couple of oranges and some stale bread.”

“I didn’t get ANYTHING to eat from the time assessment started until now,” Faith told her.

“Did you ask?” Shannon inquired.  Faith had to admit he hadn’t.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 3, 2013)

Over dinner, Faith and Shannon discussed strategies for the upcoming land navigation event.  Shannon mentioned that her map had been confiscated during the initial “shakedown,” much the same way Faith had lost his compass.  She, too, had reported to the location specified in her instructions, only to be told that she was in the wrong spot, and to ultimately end up in a blacked-out van on the way to an undisclosed location.  The two of them made a deal that, if the instructions they were given allowed, they would partner up on the land nav event.  If they pooled resources, they might get through the event together.

After they were done eating and planning, Faith stopped by to thank the cooks as he threw away his now-empty plate and utensils.

“Seconds?” the head cook, a young-looking staff sergeant, offered.

“No thanks,” Faith said, smiling.  “That was the best chow I had in a while, though, for sure.”

“Want anything for the road?” the cook pressed.

“Do you have anything that’s not going to spoil in the back of a rucksack?” Faith asked.  The cook glanced over at a small pile of non-descript rectangular cardboard boxes.

“MREs?” Faith inquired.  The cook nodded.  “Thanks, brother.”

“Don’t thank me until you make it through,” the other man said.  “Good luck!” he added before issuing instructions to the other cooks to start breaking down the chow line.

“Leaving so soon?” Faith teased.

“We’re supposed to be out of here before the cadre members come back,” the cook replied.  “Which will be in…” he consulted his watch “Seven minutes.  Plus or minus 30 seconds.”

Faith looked at the pile of MREs and did the mental math.  If all the boxes were full, he knew that there were 12 meals in each box, and there were 14 or so candidates.  So there were enough MREs for everyone to get two meals each.  Almost.  Faith noticed that at least one of the boxes had been opened and was about half full.  At least one person would have to be short a meal.

“MREs!” Faith announced to his favorite candidates.  “Come get them and put them in your rucks before the assessment cadre members show up.  Two each!”  Individuals straggled up to the boxes and took two MREs.  Faith noticed one fellow candidate, a tall man Faith figured for a pilot, began rifling through the MREs, looking for the ones he liked.

“Hey bro, don’t rat fuck the MREs,” Faith admonished gently.  “Just grab two.”  The other man bristled.

“Who the fuck put you in charge?” he challenged, standing face to face with Faith.

“No one,” Faith admitted.  The other man, who Faith decided to nickname “Ken” because of his doll-like good looks, made a “that’s what I thought” face and bent back down to the box.  When he was satisfied with the two meals he had, he gave a withering glance at Faith and then stalked back to his rucksack to store his MREs.  The man in line behind Ken looked at Faith and stuck his hands in the box of MREs, coming up with the first two meals he randomly grabbed.  “Thanks, bro,” he said before heading back to his own ruck.

Faith was pleased to see that although she was seated relatively close to the MRE line, that Shannon waited until everyone else had received their meals before getting up to get one of her own.

“Anything left?” she asked cheerfully.

“Well, there are two of us and only two MREs left,” Faith informed her.  “Why don’t you pick out the one you want, and I’ll take the last one?” he suggested.

Shannon fished both of the remaining MREs out of the box and held one in each hand.  Without looking at what the meals were, she said, “I’ll take this one,” waving the MRE in her left hand and handing the one in her right over to Faith.  When he received it, Faith looked at the wrapper.  “Tuna with noodles,” he announced.  Not his favorite meal, by a long shot.  Shannon looked at hers.  “Want to trade?” she asked.  Whatever else it was, it would bound to be better than what he currently had.  He nodded and they exchanged MREs.  Faith looked down at the meal he had just received.  Tuna with noodles.  Shannon smiled mischieviously and turned to go back to her rucksack as Faith laughed out loud.  Faith tidied up the empty boxes and re-arranged them the way they had been set up by the cooks.  He had just finished putting all of his gear back on when two black vans pulled up, and screaming cadre members poured out of them.

“Plus or minus 30 seconds,” Faith muttered to himself.

“Never Say Quit,” he heard another candidate answer.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 3, 2013)

The cooks are reporting on the Candidates,Ken may have fucked himself.


----------



## digrar (Nov 3, 2013)

Don't they tell you "you're always being assessed" up there?


----------



## Kraut783 (Nov 3, 2013)

Heh..."Ken" rifling through the MRE's ...there's always one.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 4, 2013)

Kraut783 said:


> Heh..."Ken" rifling through the MRE's ...there's always one.


 
One.... there are more than that.... that's why there are assessments.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 4, 2013)

After some expected screaming and hazing, which consisted of all manner of calisthenics and some rifle PT, the candidates were given their instructions for the next event.

“Candidates!” exclaimed a man Faith recognized as SPC Spencer, from the first day of assessment.  “In front of you, in a small Ziplock bag, you will find one map pen, one military protractor, one stopwatch, and one set of coordinates.”  Faith looked down at his feet; the bag did seem to contain what the cadre member described.  “When time starts,” the man continued, “you will open the bag, secure your set of coordinates, plot your coordinates on a map, and move out smartly to the land navigation course.  You have two hours to find six points and return here to the starting position.   What are your questions?”  A candidate’s hand shot immediately into the air.  Faith noticed with annoyance that it was Ken.

“So… are you going to give us back the stuff you took away the first morning?” Ken asked.  SPC Spencer looked at Ken in amusement, then looked back down at his clipboard.  “Candidates!”  he shouted, “in front of you…” he began, going back through the entire spiel.  It was clear that no further instructions would be forthcoming, and no questions would be entertained.  The second time Spencer asked if there were any questions, no one raised a hand.

“Good,” Spencer announced.  “Since there are no questions, candidates, you may begin!”


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 4, 2013)

Hope his map and compass skills are good.

No team work allowed, no talking allowed (they tell you what you can do, not what not to do)


----------



## Karoshi (Nov 5, 2013)

I hope Ken's grid leads him to the exit out of the training area, and away from the next phase of the assessment.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 7, 2013)

And....now I'm hooked dammit.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 7, 2013)

LogDog0402 said:


> And....now I'm hooked dammit.


 
Be patient :wall:...  it usually takes 6 or more months for one of these case studies to resolve...  kind of like those writing projects where readers toss out ideas to the author.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 7, 2013)

Mara...  when does Chief Rollins reappear?


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 7, 2013)

x SF med said:


> Mara...  when does Chief Rollins reappear?



You just like her because the character she's dating is based on you.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 7, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> You just like her because the character she's dating is based on you.


Less posting, more case study.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 7, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> You just like her because the character she's dating is based on you.


 
Yeah, btw, where is my character?   Suddenly this whole case study thing is all about Faith...


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 7, 2013)

x SF med said:


> Yeah, btw, where is my character?   Suddenly this whole case study thing is all about Faith...


Well, "you've gotta have Faith, Faith Faith, you've gotta have Faith, Faith, Faith-a."


----------



## x SF med (Nov 7, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Well, "you've gotta have Faith, Faith Faith, you've gotta have Faith, Faith, Faith-a."


 
Um, wasn't that a bad late 80's song by a convicted Brit sex offender?   You would know that song....


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 7, 2013)

You, @surgicalcric , @RB . @Viper1 and... I think I'm forgetting a couple of folks... anyway, all of you SF types are back in the Team Room drinking beer or whatever it is team guys do in their off time.  Not to worry though, you'll all be back shortly because it doesn't look think things are going to end well for our intrepid hero...


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 7, 2013)

It was clear that there was no way that any one candidate was going to be able to successfully complete this event on his or her own.  No candidate possessed both a map and a compass.  Some candidates had neither.  But by gathering in pairs or in groups of three, each group would have enough resources to carry out the mission.

Faith and Shannon paired up almost instinctively.  In looking at their assigned coordinated, they saw that while their designated points were not exactly the same, they were, for the most part, close enough to make sense for them to be partners.  The pair had just settled in to start plotting each of their points on the map when a loud voice asked, “Got room for a three-way over here?”  Faith looked up and saw Ken standing there, a slight smile on his face.  Faith was deeply annoyed but was on the verge of begrudgingly allowing Ken to join their team when Shannon spoke up.  “I think we’re good here, but those two over there can probably use a hand,” she said, indicating two male candidates a few feet away.  Rejected, the smile fell away from Ken’s face and he trudged off.

“Thanks,” Faith said after Ken was out of earshot, “I really don’t like that guy.”

“Me, neither,” Shannon agreed.

Faith and Shannon had to plot all of their points on the same map, but they had two different colored pens; blue for her and black for him.  Faith knew that it would be hard to tell the colors apart in the dark, so he circled his points.  It was almost completely dark when the two of them were satisfied that they had accurately plotted their points, accounted for grid/magnetic angle, and had a good plan for getting all of their points and getting back to the start point before the deadline.  While they had worked fast, Faith and Shannon were not the first ones finished.  Two other groups of candidates had already departed when Faith and Shannon shouldered their rucks, picked up their rubber M-16s, and took a final azimuth checks.

“Wait,” said Shannon, “the other groups left their rucks here,” she pointed out.  Faith looked and saw this was true.  “Do you think we should drop rucks?  We’ll move a lot faster without them…”


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 7, 2013)

Oh, boy.  Someone's shit is about to get sifted through, tossed, or what have you.


----------



## policemedic (Nov 7, 2013)

Don't be late, light or lost young Captain.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 7, 2013)

I say rat fuck Ken's pack then do land nav.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 7, 2013)

Leave it and lose it...   carry it and you have what you need...   the tick sucks, but the tick can be your lifeline in an emergency.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 7, 2013)

Faith looked around.  There was not a cadre member in sight.  “I don’t think so,” he said.  “I know they didn’t tell us we had to take this stuff with us, but I’m not sure we should leave it here unattended.  These rucks aren’t very heavy, and it’s dark as hell so we probably won’t be going that fast anyway.  And besides, our rucks have our chow in them,” he added, smiling.

“You’re right,” Shannon admitted, “My friends who have done other assessments in the past always told me, ‘don’t be late, last, lost, or light.'  I just hate carrying this… great green tick,” she said as she heaved her own ruck onto her back and the two headed off to find their points.

While Shannon didn’t  seem to care for her ruck, Faith absolutely loved his.  It was a standard extra-large issued rucksack that had been his since his freshman year of ROTC, and his father’s before that.  Faith had modified it slightly, giving it a few extra pockets and some additional padding on the shoulder straps and the waist belt.  He had had it for so long, and worn it so often, it seemed like just another part of him when he had it on.  He cinched down the shoulder straps and fastened the waist belt, and felt ready for this next challenge.

As the two moved across the parking lot and into the woodline, Faith noticed something unusual about his rucksack.  A corner of something hard was causing a portion of his ruck to protrude into his back.  His ruck also felt a lot heavier than he remembered.

“Hold on a second,” he said to Shannon as they crossed into the woodline.  Shannon, on pace count, took out a small piece of paper and with the help of a tiny red-lens light wrote down a number so they wouldn’t lose count during this break.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Maybe nothing,” Faith said, clipping the compass to his web gear and opening up his ruck.

“Those sneaky bastards!” Faith exclaimed, pulling a large round rock from inside his pack.  It took both hands for him to lift it out.  He dropped it to the ground, where it fell with a thud. Seeing this, Shannon dropped her ruck and pulled out an even larger rock.  Both of them laughed.

“Let’s make a note of where we dropped these and put them back in our rucks when we’re done,” she suggested.  “The cadre probably put these in here for a reason.”  Faith said he thought that was a great idea.  Feeling much lighter, and very clever, the two re-checked their azimuth and moved out to start collecting points.


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 7, 2013)

Question is will the rocks be there upon their return?


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 7, 2013)

I think those two are going to be in for quite a ride when they come back.


----------



## Ranger Psych (Nov 8, 2013)

Either that, or Kenny boy is trying to play fuck fuck games.   Granted, I put a decent sized rock in my SL's ruck for the first afghanistan deployment and he didn't find it till we came back stateside...


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 8, 2013)

Even with just one compass, working together made the land nav course much simpler than working alone.  Even though it was dark, the two of them were able to maintain enough of a distance between them that even if they were slightly off on their pace count or azimuth, one might see a key terrain feature, or even one of their points, where another might not.  The points, Faith found, were large metal signs affixed to poles planted firmly in the ground.  These made a loud reverberating noise when slapped with the open hand.  This Faith did to alert other candidates in the area who might be looking for the same point.  “Just like at Yankee Road back in IOBC,” Faith explained to Shannon.

The land navigation course was not particularly onerous.  Working together, Faith and Shannon quickly found three points each, then a fourth, in a little over an hour.  “Two more to go!” Faith said cheerfully.  While things were going well for them, Faith was getting tired, and he could tell that it was wearing on Shannon as well.  Both of them were in great shape, but this was still a physically rigorous exercise. 

When they got to the place that Shannon’s fifth point was supposed to be, they couldn’t find it.  After spending a few minutes backtracking and then spreading out looking for it, they decided to forego this point and move on to the next one.  Thankfully, there were enough road junctions and conspicuous terrain features on the map that they were not dependent upon going point to point in order to stay on track.  Shannon was disappointed that they couldn’t find that fifth point, but she had three other chances to get two more points.

However, when they got to the spot where Faith’s fifth point was supposed to be, they couldn’t find that one, either.  This time they pulled out flashlights and completely re-plotted the point.

“We’re in the right spot,” Faith said, “Look, here is that stream junction, and over there is where those two roads connect.  We are standing on this hilltop,” he used the tip of a pine needle as a pointer, “the point we’re looking for is supposed to be right here where we’re standing.  There is no way we missed this point, it is.not.here.”  Shannon re-plotted the point as well.  “I think you’re right,” she responded dejectedly.  Faith paused a moment to think.  He was tired, he was frustrated, and he needed to make sure he was taking the time he needed to make good decisions.


----------



## Ranger Psych (Nov 8, 2013)

LOL. Leave one of the rocks at each point with Kilroy in sharpie on it. We were here...


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 8, 2013)

Cadre is hiding in the bushes watching their decision making process.

Do they backtrack (doubt) or press forward (confidence in their ability)
or did Ken remove the sign?


----------



## x SF med (Nov 8, 2013)

Um.... the signs are in the trees about 20 feet above the ground, because people look at the ground and are not totally situationally aware....  snipers and OPs are in trees why can't land nav points be there too?  Not that I have any experience with a situation similar to this...   nor one that involved 10 engineer stakes in a 50 m x 50 m area....  each with a different punch...  and yes they were set at exact 10 digit grid coordinates...


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 8, 2013)

“Look,” he said, “These two points that we missed are the furthest ones away from the start point.  Let’s forget these points and concentrate on picking up the rest on the way in.  No matter how many points we find or don’t find, I think it’s important that we’re back before the time expires.”

“OK,” Shannon said.  “Let’s switch up jobs on the way back in.  I’ll do the compass and you take primary pace count.”  Faith didn’t particularly like this idea, but he consented.  Faith was impressed by the way that Shannon led the way back through the woods.  He notified her when the pace count expired for their next point, but they couldn’t find that one either.  Or the next one.  Both Faith and Shannon were starting to feel a bit of panic.  They had four points each, and the both needed six to pass.  But there was only one point left for each of them that they hadn’t already tried—and failed—to find.   

“Wait a minute,” Faith said, “What were the instructions they gave us?”

“We have to find six of our points and make it back in two hours,” Shannon answered.

“Was it ‘find six of your points’ or ‘find six points’?”

“What difference does it make?” Shannon responded, probably a bit more testily than she meant.

“Well, if it’s ‘find six points,’ then we already have eight,” Faith said patiently.  “But if it was ‘find six of yours…’”

“…then we’re probably screwed,” Shannon finished for him.

“So look, let’s hit these two last points, they’re pretty close to each other, and then head back to the start point,” he suggested.  And that’s what they did.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 8, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> ... “When time starts,” the man continued, “you will open the bag, secure your set of coordinates, plot your coordinates on a map, and move out smartly to the land navigation course.  *You have two hours to find six points and return here to the starting position*.   What are your questions?” ...  “Since there are no questions, candidates, you may begin!”


 
Scott and Shannon are very smart cookies....   got their rucks, got extra points, and should have plenty of time to make it back...


ETA:   assuming the draw monster and his evil wait-a-minute vine minions don't interfere with the universe.... they're way worse than Vogons, but they don't sing...  they make you sing the draw monster song though...  it goes like this:  WTF, goddamit, shit,mo-ther-fuck-er, Christ on a cross, goddamit again, die you sorry mo-ther-fuck-ing vine from hell, I wouldn't wish this shit on the fucking prisoners in Gitmo, fuck me with a crowbar...  goddamit, I only have an l fucking hour left to make it back, and I still have 2 points, mo-ther-fuck-er...  I hate fucking vines and goddam draws and roads, fucking roads, what good are they? can't walk on 'em and if you use them to nav, the fucking Tacs think you're walking them, no-good fucking roads and vines...  fuck, goddamit, gimme back my ruck and fucking weapon goddamit, motherfucking vines suck...


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 9, 2013)

Faith and Shannon crouched at the last point and wrote down the numbers on the metal sign.  Both of them copied the numbers for all ten of the points they had found together.  “I hope we’re right about the instructions,” Shannon whispered.  Just then, they heard a thrashing sound as someone moved towards them.  Both of them instinctively became still and quiet.  The noise got closer and Faith could tell it was a man with a flashlight in one hand and a compass in the other.  “Where the hell is that point!?” Faith heard the man ask out loud.  He must be talking to himself, because he had no idea Faith and Shannon were only a few feet away.  Faith reached up to smack the sign, but Shannon caught his hand.  “It’s Ken,” she whispered, “I can tell by his voice.”

“You don’t want me to let him know where the sign is?” Faith whispered back.  Shannon shook her head no.

“You don’t think we’re kind of screwing him?” he asked.

“If he finds it on his own, fine, but he’s all out of favors as far as I’m concerned.  He’s been a complete dick this whole time, and he’s clearly only in it for himself.  Where are the two other guys he started with?” she asked.  Good point.

When Ken had moved a short distance away, Faith and Shannon quietly moved back towards the start line.  They had about ten minutes left; plenty of time to go back to the place where they dumped the rocks and put them back into their rucksacks before beating the clock back to the start point.  They were both kind of surprised to see a number of other candidates already there.  Some looked confidently smug, others looked positively ashen.  It was easy to tell who had figured out the instructions, and who only figured out five points of the six they were supposed to have.  Faith pulled Shannon aside.

“Look, if we’re right about the points, then we’re going to pass this event,” he said quietly.  “If we’re wrong, then we’re probably out of this assessment. The same is probably true for these other guys.  Some of them probably didn’t reach the same conclusion we did.  I think we should tell them.”  Shannon looked unsure.  “I’m intel, I’m not competing for the same positions you and the other pilots are,” he admitted.  So if you think we should keep this to ourselves…”


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 9, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Faith and Shannon crouched at the last point and wrote down the numbers on the metal sign.  Both of them copied the numbers for all ten of the points they had found together.  “I hope we’re right about the instructions,” Shannon whispered.  Just then, they heard a thrashing sound as someone moved towards them.  Both of them instinctively became still and quiet.  The noise got closer and Faith could tell it was a man with a flashlight in one hand and a compass in the other.  “Where the hell is that point!?” Faith heard the man ask out loud.  He must be talking to himself, because he had no idea Faith and Shannon were only a few feet away.  Faith reached up to smack the sign, but Shannon caught his hand.  “It’s Ken,” she whispered, “I can tell by his voice.”
> 
> “You don’t want me to let him know where the sign is?” Faith whispered back.  Shannon shook her head no.
> 
> ...


Faith is being a dumbass, giving test questions/answers is cheating.  He needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut (seems like his mouth is killing his career).


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 9, 2013)

“No, not at all,” Shannon said quickly.  “If we know something, we should share it with the others.  Besides, like I told you before, I’m not competing for a slot in the 16th,” she added.  “I just don’t want to tell them something that turns out wrong.”

“Do you think it’s going to make a difference to guys who are already only 5 of the 6 they were supposed to have?” 

“Good point,” she conceded.

Faith announced to the rest of the candidates what he and Shannon had deduced about the points.  A number of the other candidates looked relieved, but some looked downright pissed.  Faith surmised that the latter group was probably the people who had figured out the “trick” of this exercise on their own.

Not surprisingly, Ken and his group were the last ones to trickle in.  First came Ken, sweaty and out of breath.  “Did anyone find all six of the points on their sheet?” he asked.  Faith shook his head no; technically, he hadn’t found six of the points on his sheet, he found five.  But he also had five from Shannon.  Faith figured that one of the other candidates would tell Ken “the secret” of the course, but to his surprise, no one did.  Apparently Ken had made a similar impression on the rest of the candidates as he had to Faith and Shannon.

Faith glanced at his stopwatch- three minutes left.  He saw the last two candidates straggling in at the same time the now-familiar black vans were pulling up.  The last two candidates, who Faith recognized as team players who had seemed like good dudes throughout the assessment process, were pretty agitated with Ken.  “Dude!  You left us!” one of them said accusatorially.  “Sorry man, I had to try to find my points.  You guys were slowing me down,” Ken countered.

“But you had the only compass!” the other man said.  “We only found two points.”

“Well I only found five,” said Ken, “so I guess we’re all going home.

Faith now found himself in a dilemma.  He could save the two “good” candidates by telling them what he and Shannon had figured out, but if he did, Ken would overhear and be saved too.  Should he say something, or just let it go?


----------



## Kraut783 (Nov 9, 2013)

Ken needs to be hit in the head with one of the rocks in their rucks.....


----------



## digrar (Nov 9, 2013)

SOWT said:


> Faith is being a dumbass, giving test questions/answers is cheating.  He needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut (seems like his mouth is killing his career).




If it was an individual event maybe, but they've paired and tripled them up into teams, so why not confirm the instructions of the event with the others?


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 9, 2013)

Let's pause for a moment and take stock of where we are in this story.  Remember that these case studies are intended to be leadership lessons, not just mildly entertaining quasi-autobiographical war stories.  Think back to the beginning of Revolution (the name of this case study).  Consider the following:

1)How did Faith get to the point he is at right now?
2)Where has he succeeded (however you define that)?  Where has he failed?
3)What is he doing well now?  What is he doing poorly, that he should do better?
4)We're getting close to the end of this case study.  What do you think is going to happen next?


----------



## SpongeBob*24 (Nov 9, 2013)

Faith is taking charge, he is making sound decisions although tired and hungry, he is helping others and being a team player.


I'd bet a crisp single Shannon is a Cadre member......


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 9, 2013)

SpongeBob*24 said:


> Faith is taking charge, he is making sound decisions although tired and hungry, he is helping others and being a team player.
> 
> 
> *I'd bet a crisp single Shannon is a Cadre membe*r......



That is a very good guess, and I considered writing in a "trojan horse" cadre member character, but I felt like it would take too long to develop that plot twist.  So no, Shannon is not a cadre member.  Yet she's in the assessment... but claims she's not assessing for the 16th.  That's interesting.


----------



## medicchick (Nov 9, 2013)

Mac_NZ said:


> If Faith doesn't shank/bottle/beat/bum rape that sack of shit of a Major in this one I'm going to download an IP spoofer and register 5 accounts a day pretending I'm a 15 year old kid who knows all about the SOF world from playing COD4, I'll do it Mara!!! I'll have you so busy banning fake annoying kids you will finally have an excuse to not be finishing the case study!



There HAS been an influx of stupids lately


digrar said:


> The torment of wondering if you should click on the link, or just ignore it for 7 or 8 months so it's almost half way started. :-/



Pretty much.


Marauder06 said:


> Let's pause for a moment and take stock of where we are in this story.  Remember that these case studies are intended to be leadership lessons, not just mildly entertaining quasi-autobiographical war stories.  Think back to the beginning of Revolution (the name of this case study).  Consider the following:
> 
> 1)How did Faith get to the point he is at right now?
> In the assessment or this point in life?
> ...



My answers are in blue (and these are just my civi thoughts/observations.  Take them for that they are worth.


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 9, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Let's pause for a moment and take stock of where we are in this story.  Remember that these case studies are intended to be leadership lessons, not just mildly entertaining quasi-autobiographical war stories.  Think back to the beginning of Revolution (the name of this case study).  Consider the following:
> 
> 1)How did Faith get to the point he is at right now?
> 2)Where has he succeeded (however you define that)?  Where has he failed?
> ...



1) By letting his emotions get the better of him in most cases, especially when dealing with The Dud. He's only at the assessment because his friends and superiors practically pushed him to do it. 
2) In his previous commands and in the current one he always seems to have knack for getting the support of his good NCO's and leadership (most of the time). He has failed, as mentioned above, in letting his temper dictate his actions on more than one occasion. 
3) At the moment he is doing better and not letting people like Ken throw him over the edge, even when he is sleep derived, hungry, and in poor condition. He might go down a bad path though if he tries to exclude people from his discoveries during the current exercise for either A) doubting is own ability or B) simply not liking them (I.E. Ken). 
4) This Case Study is going to have an end?


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 10, 2013)

Faith is a good officer, who tends to let his self-confidence/temper get him in trouble (letting the Dud change the combo for example).

He took a ride on the pity train, and was booted off (hence his getting into selection).

He's a team player (even when dealing with a-holes like Ken), but sometimes loses sight of the mission (i.e. weeding a-holes like Ken out).

He needs to finish selection, and re-start his career.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Thanks for the comments guys.

Yes, Faith got to where he is now both because of the bad/stupid things he did previously, and the good/smart/lucky things that he did or had happen to him as well.  The thing that he really has going for him is that he has people who care about him.  Success in the military is largely a factor of being able to successfully manage interpersonal relationships, whether that be with your spouse, your peers, your subordinates, or your superiors.  Faith is also growing up a bit, becoming more mature and more experienced.  For example, he's no longer beating the crap out of enlisted Soldiers in darkened parking lots (even those that really, really deserve it!).  He is starting to get his anger issues under control, which is good for him.

Yes, this case study will end, lol.  In fact I plan to have it completely written tonight.  Some of you aren't going to like the ending.

/////

Ultimately, Faith told the other two candidates about the points, and Ken couldn’t help but overhear.  So it was likely that all of them were going to pass this particular exercise… if any of them did.

“Hey, has anyone seen my ruck?” Ken asked.


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Thanks for the comments guys.
> 
> Yes, Faith got to where he is now both because of the bad/stupid things he did previously, and the good/smart/lucky things that he did or had happen to him as well.  The thing that he really has going for him is that he has people who care about him.  Success in the military is largely a factor of being able to successfully manage interpersonal relationships, whether that be with your spouse, your peers, your subordinates, or your superiors.  Faith is also growing up a bit, becoming more mature and more experienced.  For example, he's no longer beating the crap out of enlisted Soldiers in darkened parking lots (even those that really, really deserve it!).  He is starting to get his anger issues under control, which is good for him.
> 
> ...



Uh-oh Faith is a non-select. Also sounds like someone is heckling Ken or he is REALLY absent minded and misplaced his large hump.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

As it turned out, Faith and Shannon were right about the instructions for the land navigation event, and they were right to take their rucks with them.  After collecting the answer sheets from all of the candidates, the cadre announced a “layout” inspection of everyone’s rucks.  Those candidates who had not carried their rucks with them on the course discovered that their rucks were nowhere to be found. 

“You left your weapon and equipment behind?” one cadre member exclaimed in mock horror.  “I wonder what might possibly had happened to it?  You had better find it, candidates!  What are you waiting for?  Fall out—start looking!”

Faith was annoyed that the laziness of others was going to cause more work for himself and the other candidates that had done the right thing.  But he recognized this as yet another haze, another challenge to be overcome.  He shouldered his ruck and grabbed his rubber M-16 and stepped outside of the assembly area.

“Candidate Faith!  a cadre member barked.  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To help look for the missing rucksacks,” Faith explained.

“Are you missing YOUR rucksack, Candidate Faith?” this was meant rhetorically, because it was clear that Faith had his own gear.

“No,” Faith responded.

“Then get back into the assembly area,” the other man responded.

Faith and the remaining candidates were instructed to empty their rucks and present the contents for inspection.  There were exclamations of surprise as several candidates discovered large and heavy rocks concealed inside their packs.  Two candidates, however, had no rocks in their rucks.  The cadre members noted this, but did not say anything directly to the two.

“Candidates!  The first thing you should do with any piece of equipment is inspect it,” a cadre member intoned sonorously.  Had you done that with your equipment, you would have noted that it contained a rock, a large and heavy rock that it would have been in your interests to discover, and discard, like apparently these two candidates did.”  Faith said nothing.

“How was carrying that rock around, candidate?” a cadre member asked Shannon sarcastically.

“I guess you got me,” she responded noncommittally.

“Candidates!  If you make it into the hallowed ranks of the 16th SAVE, you will never leave behind your comrades, your equipment, or a job undone.  Let me here you say that.”

“I will never leave behind my comrades, my equipment, or a job undone,” the candidates duly repeated.

“I can’t hear you!  Say it like you mean it!” he shouted.

“I WILL NEVER LEAVE BEHIND MY COMRADES, MY EQUIPMENT, OR A JOB UNDONE!” the candidates thundered back.

“Better,” the man in black said.  “Now, your friends, the other candidates, they didn’t do that.  They thought they could get over by leaving their equipment behind.  So they get to go look for it.  And eventually they will find it and come back here.  But in the meantime…” he paused, “in the meantime, you can do what you want while you wait.”  Then he and the other cadre members departed.  What Faith wanted to do was eat something and take a nap.  He dug out his MRE and started eating.  Since he had no idea how much time he had, he didn’t take the time to activate the heater and made sure to only open one item at a time.  When he was done, he sat down with his back to his rucksack to take another quick nap.  He saw cadre members harrying other candidates who scampered around individually or in pairs, looking for their rucksacks and rubber M-16s.  In the distance, Faith could barely make out a rucksack dangling from a flagpole.  None of the candidates running around searching for their gear seemed to have noticed it yet.  It was his fervent hope that it belonged to Ken.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

Faith dies but his wife and Shannon are pregnant.


----------



## x SF med (Nov 10, 2013)

LogDog0402 said:


> Faith dies but his wife and Shannon are pregnant.


 

Bad form.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

OK I have the rest of the case study totally written out and will post it over the course of the next 24 hours or so.

/////

Faith fell asleep again shortly after he noticed the rucksack hanging from the flagpole. He awoke a short time later to the sound of shouted instructions.  “Candidates!  Your final event is a 15 mile footmarch.  This is an individual event.  You must end the footmarch with the same equipment with which you began it.  You may not assist any other candidate in any way.  You may not speak to any other candidate.  The route is clearly marked and is ten miles out, and ten miles back.  You have four hours to complete this exercise.  Are there any questions?”

There were not.  Faith struggled to his feet and shouldered his rucksack.  He cinched down the shoulder straps and fastened the waist belt. “Good luck!” he whispered to Shannon.  “You too,” she responded.

“Begin!” 

This was going to be a true “movement to daylight” footmarch.  Even with a relatively light load, 15 miles was still a very long distance to go, especially at the tail end of a long and challenging couple of days.  Fortunately, footmarching was something that Faith did exceptionally well.  He would much rather footmarch 12, 15, or even 20 miles than run just 10.  He started off at a brisk walk, but after he felt his legs stretch out a bit, he began to run.  This was by no means a sprint, just a gentle jog, probably not even an “Airborne shuffle.”  But it was a steady pace that ate up the miles, and Faith knew he could sustain it almost indefinitely.

Faith was among the first finishers.  While he still didn’t have his watch, he knew from the stopwatch that they had given for the land navigation exercise that he was well under the four-hour time limit.  He moved to the side of the finish line after checking in with the cadre, sat down and took off his boots and put his feet up on his rucksack in order to let the blood that had pooled in his legs drain back into the rest of his body.  He felt good, but he knew he was reaching the end of his endurance.  He was glad that the footmarch was the last event of assessment.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

x SF med said:


> Bad form.



It was funnier in my head.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Faith felt anxious as he waited for Shannon to cross the finish line, which she did with about ten minutes to spare.  But she did not look good at all.  She was limping on both feet, and she looked very pale.  She checked in with the cadre and then collapsed in a heap on the ground.  Other candidates were talking with each other, so Faith reasoned that the “no talking” admonition only applied during the actual footmarch.

“Hey, how are you doing?” he asked her. 

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You don’t look fine,” Faith countered.  Shannon only glared at him.

“Look, take off your boots and put your legs up, and change your socks.  You’ll feel better and you’ll recover faster.”

“I’m good, I don’t want to take my boots off,” she said.

“Of course you don’t want to take your boots off, you probably have blisters all over your feet and you know they’re going to swell up once you get them out of your boots.  But if you don’t do something about them now, it’s only going to get worse.”  She knew he was right and slowly, painfully stripped off her boots.

“Put your feet up here,” Faith instructed, patting Shannon’s ruck.  She did this, and Faith went to pull off her socks to look at her feet.  Her socks where stuck to her feet with dried blood.  Shannon flinched only once as Faith gingerly removed her socks.  Her heel, most of her toes, and the pads of her feet were covered with blood and blisters.  Faith whistled out loud.

“Bad?” she asked.  Faith nodded.

“I’ve got some tincture of benzoin in the first aid kit in my ruck,” she said.  “Can you get it out for me?” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tincture_of_benzoin

“Sure, but I don’t even know what that is,” Faith answered.

“It helps keep your feet going when they get messed up,” she explained.

Faith located Shannon’s first aid packet and gave it to her.  “Want me to clean up your feet a little before you put that on?” he asked.  Faith rinsed off Shannon’s feet as best he could, using her old socks to daub spots of blood away from her skin.  When  that was done, Shannon handed him a small vial. 

“I’m going to need you to put this on,” she said.

“Why is that?” Faith asked.

“Because it’s going to hurt like a bitch,” Shannon confided.

When she was ready, Faith poured a little of the vial of tincture onto the worst areas of her left foot.  She gave a little yelp of pain and closed her eyes, but she took the pain.  “Other foot now,” she instructed.

When he was done, Faith put the first aid kit back in Shannon’s pack, and helped her get clean socks on her feet.  “Thanks,” she said.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

About four candidates did not finish the footmarch event in the scheduled four hours.  Two candidates finished shortly after time had expired, and two candidates were brought back in a black van.  All of them looked physically spent, and they all looked like they had some kind of foot injury.

The cadre members gave them time to treat their feet, and then delivered some rather shocking news.  “Candidates!  Your next event is the five mile formation run.  You will change into running shoes and fall in on the starting line in ten minutes.  This run will be at an eight minute pace.”

Faith was enormously frustrated with this news.  What happened to “the footmarch is the last event?”  Running was never Faith’s strong suit, and while he could normally manage five miles at an eight minute pace, it was asking a lot to do it immediately after a 15-mile footmarch.  In fact, it was asking too much.  Two candidates quit outright at the news of the run.  They gathered their things and got into the black vans, never to be seen again.  Shannon sighed deeply.

“What are you going to do?” Faith asked her.  She was in no shape to run. 

“Well, I’m going to put my running shoes on, and then I’m going to run five miles at an eight minute pace,” she replied with utter confidence.  Faith admired her determination, but he didn’t think she had it in her.  He wondered if he did.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Faith formed up at the front right corner of the line.  This put him in the “right guide” position, which would ostensibly allow him to control the pace of the run.  Other candidates formed up to his left and to his rear.  But just before the run was supposed to start, someone appeared on his right.  It was Ken. 

“Hey man, fall in at the back of the formation,” Faith instructed him.

“No thanks, I like running in the front,” Ken replied.  “I get to stretch my legs, and I get to decide how fast we run.  I’m feeling pretty good right now, so I think we’ll start off pretty quick, and then taper off after I start getting tired.”

Faith didn’t remember seeing Ken come in during the footmarch, maybe he came in while Faith was helping Shannon.  But Ken, true to his Barbie namesake, looked positively… clean.  Everyone else’s uniform was streaked with sweat and salt, but Ken looked remarkably clean.  Faith was seriously considering administering an elbow smash to the face when a voice called out,

“Forward, march!  Doubletime, march!” and the group was off at a run.

Whatever pace they were running, Faith knew that it was not an eight-minute mile.  It was faster… a LOT faster.  Faith mentally added another entry to his “list of reasons to maim Ken.”  The cadre members insisted on calling cadence during the run, which further added to the discomfort the candidates were experiencing.  For some, it was just too much.  The man to Faith’s immediate left fell out of the formation.  Shannon stepped up to take his place.  Having her alongside him, hanging in there despite the injuries he knew she had, gave Faith a shot of adrenalin.  He made up his mind that there was going to be nothing that could stop him from finishing this run, and successfully gaining a slot in the 16th, lying cadre and that asshole Ken aside.  Then, something completely unexpected happened.


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 10, 2013)

Ken has to be a plant.  There's no other way some fuck twit that fell from a capsized douche canoe can get away with the shit that he's pulling.  Clean uniform?  Bullshit.


----------



## medicchick (Nov 10, 2013)

So, who's son is Ken anyway?


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

medicchick said:


> So, who's son is Ken anyway?



An assclown like that has GOT to be somebody's boy, doesn't he?  I wonder who Ken's patron is...


----------



## policemedic (Nov 10, 2013)

My money is on The Dud.


----------



## Chopstick (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Your final event is a 15 mile footmarch.   The route is clearly marked and is ten miles out, and ten miles back.


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 10, 2013)

Chopstick said:


>



You should've known something like that was coming.  They put it out in the initial briefing for the event that it was a 15-mile march on a course that's ten out and ten back.  That's five miles left unaccounted for.  In any kind of selection, that kind of distance isn't going to be unaccounted for, unplanned for, or anything like that.  They damned sure weren't going to have a stretch limo waiting on them with a jacuzzi in the rear deck for the final five miles.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

“Quicktime, march!  Marktime, march!  Group, halt!”  The run was suddenly over.  The group had run less than 100 yards; clearly, the thread of a five mile run was merely a gut check, to see who would keep going and who would quit.

“Candidates!  On the command of fall out, you will file into the classroom to your right, where you will receive further instructions.  Fall out!”


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> The group had run less than 100 yards; clearly, the thread of a five mile run was merely a gut check, to see who would keep going and who would quit.



Like a "suit test" on steroids.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 10, 2013)

So why does faith get eliminated?
Is Shannon a plant, or maybe Ken?


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

SOWT said:


> So why does faith get eliminated?
> Is Shannon a plant, or maybe Ken?



Whoa whoa whoa, what's with this "elimination" there, Debby Downer?


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

After filing into the classroom, the remaining candidates were instructed to prepare for an air mission brief.  The pilots were taken to one corner of the room and the enablers to another.  There were only three members of the latter group; Faith, a commo officer, and an enlisted admin specialist.  There were 7 or so pilots in the other group.  The candidates, Faith noticed, had been narrowed considerably over the last couple of events.

The goal of this particular exercise was to get the enablers and the pilots working together on a project in which they would demonstrate proficiency in their respective skill sets.  For the pilots, it was operational mission planning.  For the enablers, it was support to that planning.  For the most part, Faith enjoyed this exercise.  He had always been good at planning, and he was grateful to have the opportunity to demonstrate competence as an intel officer, instead of just as a guy who was kind of good at PT.  At one point, though, he found himself alone with Ken.  He had noticed that Ken wasn’t really active with the planning, he’d toss a couple of things out every once in a while but wasn’t really providing a lot of useful input.  And now, he was distracting Faith.

“What are you doing?” Ken inquired.

“Just trying to wrap up my portion of the AMB,” Faith responded.

“What, like weather and HLZs and stuff?” Ken asked, “I have a crew chief for all of those things.  All I really need people like you for is to make sure my clearance is straight and that the radio’s crypto gear is properly secured.”  Faith ignored him.

“What is it you’re competing for?” Ken persisted, “Battalion S2?  What if I told you that no matter how well you did in this assessment, you’re not going to get picked up for that job?”

Faith stopped what he was doing and turned to face Ken.  “Look bro, I don’t know what your problem is, but the only thing stopping me from shoving a pencil through your eye right now is the fact that I’ve got a job to do here.  You have been nothing but a complete asshole this entire assessment.  That’s fine; that’s on you.  But now, you’re affecting everyone else’s chances at getting in the unit.  So stop fucking around and go back over there and do… pilot shit or whatever.  If you want to find me after this assessment is over, maybe we can go back behind the woodshed and sort things out between us.  But for now, fuck off!”

Ken laughed, and Faith was surprised by his reaction.  Ken gave Faith an appraising look, and then turned without a word and walked away.  Faith went back to his work.


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

Maybe Ken is the current S-2, or one of the battalion commanders or something crazy like that.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

While they were able to plan and rehearse as a group, every candidate had to present his or her portion of the air mission brief individually.  Faith had never done an AMB before, but briefing was one of his strong points and he was confident he would do well.  He had a total of six PowerPoint slides for the briefing, dealing from everything from weather, to flight routes, to helicopter landing zones, to expected enemy forces.  As he set up for his briefing, he was informed that he would be briefing the commander of the 16th SAVE, and Faith’s portion of the briefing was to last exactly 16 minutes.  Faith was annoyed by the artificial time constraint; he didn’t need 16 minutes to say what he had to say.  In fact, he figured he could have it done in five minutes.  Whatever, if they wanted him to filibuster for an extra 11 minutes, he could do it.  Faith fished the stopwatch out of his pocket and set it on the briefing podium.  In front of him were are set if tables arranged in a convex arc from right to left.  The two seats at the head of the table were empty, but the rest of the chairs were full.  Faith looked at the faces and recognized only one person—Simon Criss.  Faith caught his eye and smiled, but Criss didn’t smile back.  That, Faith thought, wasn’t a good sign.

“Candidate Faith, what did you just take out of your pocket?” one of the audience members asked.

“A stopwatch,” Faith answered.

“Was a stopwatch part of your packing list for assessment?” the man inquired.

“No,” Faith answered.  He wanted to add, “A wristwatch was on the list, but you guys took it away from me on Day One and I haven’t seen it sense,” but wisely kept his mouth closed.

“Put the stopwatch away, Faith, you’re not going to need it for this briefing,” a different cadre member instructed him.  Faith knew he wasn’t going to be able to do a briefing that lasted exactly 16 minutes, plus or minus 30 seconds, without some means of telling time.  The computer had a clock on it of course, but he couldn’t see it from the podium.  Faith recognized that this as another example of being set up for failure deliberately.  No matter, Faith would brief the best he could, and let the chips fall where they may.

Faith estimated he had been briefing for about five minutes when the door opened.  Well, he had probably been only briefing for one minute, the rest of the time that had elapsed was filled with interruptions, questions, and no small amount of heckling from the assembled audience.  Everyone except for Simon Criss, that is.  For his part, Simon said absolutely nothing, has face a blank mask.  The man who walked in was older, and vaguely familiar.  He was dressed in a flight suit, but there were no markings on it whatsoever.  Faith was in the middle of answering a question when the newcomer entered.  He was cut off when one of the cadre members blurted out, “Ladies and gentlemen, the commander!” and everyone in the room jumped to the feet and rigidly assumed the position of attention.

Faith looked at the newcomer as he directed “Carry on!” and took his seat at the head of the arc of tables.  From across the room Faith couldn’t entirely place him.  This new guy looked very familiar.  He glanced over at Simon Criss, who once again betrayed no reaction.

“Where are we?” the newcomer demanded.  One of the cadre members explained that they had just gotten through the weather portion and were about to brief the enemy situation.

“Captain Faith,” the newcomer instructed, “Go forward two slides.”  Faith complied.  “Now, leave that slide up and give me the rest of your AMB.”

Faith hesitated.  This was completely bizarre; someone barges into the briefing, instructs him to cue up some random slide, and tells him to leave it up the rest of the briefing.  Fine.  Faith put up the slide as instructed, and then gave the rest of the AMB extemporaneously.  As before, he was interrupted, questioned, and heckled but he felt like he performed well.  When the briefing was over, the man at the head of the table, who by now Faith assumed was the commander of the 16th SAVE, pulled out a sheaf of papers and began reading through them.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

Oooo, shit just got real.  Ken vs Faith in No Holds Barred Cage Match to the death.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

“So, Captain Faith, how do you think you did during this assessment program?” he asked.

“Well, I think I did pretty-“ Faith began to respond before he was cut off.

“Is it true that you fell asleep in the coffin during the SERE event?”

“Yes sir-“

“And that during the psych eval you figured out a way to sharpen pencils, and then shared it with your entire cohort?”

“Yes sir.”

“And that you and your partner on the land nav course figured out the solution, and shared that with your entire cohort as well?”

“Yes sir.

“And is it true that you told another candidate that you would stick a pencil in his eye if he didn’t stop fucking with you during the practical exercise portion?”

“Well, sir, that’s not exactly-“

“In the peer ratings of all the candidates, who do you think came out #1?”

“The candidate I knew as Shannon,” Faith answered, happy to finally be able to complete a whole sentence again without being cut off.

“And where do you think you came out in the peer evals?”

“I don’t know sir, probably in the top half.”

“You think that highly of yourself?”

Faith didn’t respond.

I see here that one of the events you failed outright was the swim test.  Faith felt his heart sink.  “One” of the events he failed?  That means there must have been others.  Which was not good, since he felt like he smoked all of the other events he endured during the assessment.

“So, this guy who gave you so much trouble during the assessment,” another cadre member asked, “What was his name?”

Faith hesitated.  After all this time, he still didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.  “We kind of just called him Ken.”

“Ken?”

“Yes, Ken, like Ken & Barbie?  Because he was so pretty, and pretentious.” 

Several of the men around the table burst out laughing.  Faith didn’t think what he said was all that funny.

“Bill, ask my aide to come in here please,” the older man in the unmarked flight suit said to one of the other cadre members.


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

It's go time!


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

If the older man in the room had an “aide,” then that meant he was a general officer.  And if he was a general officer, then he wasn’t the commander of the 16th SAVE.  Then it clicked.  The man in the flight suit was Lieutenant General Molland, the commander of SOCOM.  This was the guy that Faith had called “grandpa” and had thrashed so soundly in racketball a few weeks back.  Faith felt a twinge of terror; if Molland was the kind to hold a grudge, and actually remembered who Faith was, then it was extremely unlikely that there was likely to be a happy result for him at the end of this assessment.  Maybe he wouldn’t remember they had met before.

“How’s your racketball game these days, Faith?” Molland inquired.  Faith felt his throat tighten.

“Fine, sir.”

Molland just grunted.

A second later the door opened and two men walked in.  The first to enter was the cadre member who had left to retrieve the general’s aide.  The second man was none other than Ken.

Except Ken was now freshly shaved, and dressed in freshly-starched BDUs.  This had to be some kind of mistake. If Ken was the general’s aide, then why was he in assessment for the 16th?  And if he were legitimately assessing for a position in the 16th, why was he not in his own murder board?  Ken smiled and nodded to Faith in acknowledgement.  It was DEFINITELY Ken.

“Tim,” said Molland to his aide, “You now have a new nickname, courtesy of Candidate Faith.”

“Oh yeah sir?  What is it?” Tim/Ken answered cheerfully.

“Ken,” Molland told him.

“Like the Barbie, Ken?”

“Yes, apparently that’s what all the candidates called you.  Because you were… pretty and pretentious, I think is the way you were described.”

The officer formerly known as Tim laughed.  “I’m sure they called me worse than that, sir.  I’m good with ‘Ken,’ it was about time I got a new nickname anyway.”

“So what did you think of Candidate Faith’s performance?” the general asked him.

“Well, Candidate Faith’s file and his psych profile indicated that he has some anger management issues.  So I got close to him a couple of times and tried to push his buttons, to see if he would have a meltdown or lash out in some way.  Didn’t happen.  In fact, he was so chill throughout most of the assessment, I thought he was a bit of a pussy at first.”

“What changed your mind about that?”

“Well, he threatened to stab me in the eye with a pencil,” Ken said, smiling.


----------



## SkrewzLoose (Nov 10, 2013)

I guess it's time to find out of the cadre have a sense of humor or not...


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

I have a feeling that Faith did just fine.

Edit: Well, shit.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

“Anything else?” Molland asked.

“Well sir, gentlemen, you already have heard my recommendation for this candidate.  I don’t have a lot to add other to what I originally said.”

“Sir,” said another man who had mostly remained silent throughout the murder board, “I re-iterate my objection to your aide’s recommendation.”

General Molland nodded and looked at Faith.  “Candidate Faith, have you met Colonel Evans, the commander of the 16th SAVE?”

“No sir, I haven’t.”

“Well, as you can see,” Molland said, “We have some deliberating to do.  Will you please excuse us, and wait in the classroom until we come get you?”

Faith did as he was instructed.  His mind was utterly awash at this point.  Did he pass?  If he passed, was he going to get picked up?  Was Ken going to make good on his promise to ensure Faith didn’t become the S2 of 2/16th SAVE?  As Faith waited, other candidates filed into the room, having survived their own “murder boards” at the hands of 16th cadre.  One by one, they were called back out of the room and told the results.  Faith could see them through the large plate window as they left the building and walked towards their cars.  From their body postures, it was easy to see who got selected and who didn’t.  Faith noticed that his truck had been moved here from the place he was first picked up to start his assessment.  How long had it been?  Four days?  Five?  Without his watch, he had no sense at all of the time or day or even how many days he had been at it.

Time crawled by.  Faith felt an overpowering need to sleep, but the stress of not knowing kept him awake.  Eventually, he was the only candidate in the room.  The deliberation process was going on a LONG time.  Eventually, Faith came to the realization that if there was this much controversy about him getting hired, there was no way he was going to get the job.  Therefore, when he was finally summoned to hear the results of his board, he had made peace with himself that he was not going to get a job in the 16th SAVE.


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

The suspense is killing this character.....and the audience!


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

It is nice to see that Faith, come hell or high water, is going to take the final decision like a man.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Faith reported back in to the board.  He noticed that General Molland and Ken were both absent.

“Candidate Faith,” said Colonel Evans, “After considering all of the pertinent information, and based on your performance during the assessment process, the 16th SAVE is unable to offer you a job as the battalion S2 for 2nd Battalion.”  Even though he had mentally prepared for this, he felt a lump in his throat.  “We are sending you back to the 116th Transportation Brigade.  Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir,” was all Faith could manage to say.  He felt physically and emotionally wrecked.

“Then you are dismissed,” he heard Colonel Evans say.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Let the hate fest begin...


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

I had a feeling this would happen after Colonel Evans voiced his objection in front of Faith. It will be interesting to see what he does now - he still can't leave the Army because of the stoploss but I think that despite his failures here he has gained some respect with Tim and the good General. Maybe another door will present itself? I am curious though - since the 116th Trans is slated to go 'bye-bye' will Faith have to start looking for a position in the Big Army?


----------



## policemedic (Nov 10, 2013)

Well, shit.

Wouldn't it be nice, though, if the good general decided that Faith's performance was exactly what he wanted for another assignment within USSOCOM.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

I think the General will find something for our hero, perhaps as his new aide? Or a higher up S2 job in SOCOM?


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Faith reported back in to the board.  He noticed that General Molland and Ken were both absent.
> 
> “Candidate Faith,” said Colonel Evans, “After considering all of the pertinent information, and based on your performance during the assessment process, the 16th SAVE is unable to offer you a job as the battalion S2 for 2nd Battalion.”  Even though he had mentally prepared for this, he felt a lump in his throat.  “We are sending you back to the 116th Transportation Brigade.  Do you have any questions?”
> 
> ...


A-hem, cough,cough.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

SOWT said:


> A-hem, cough,cough.



What?  Story's over.  Faith didn't get hired.  Buh-bye now, everyone.


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

LogDog0402 said:


> perhaps as his new aide?



That sounds pretty terrible, actually


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

There will be rioting in the virtual streets!


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> What?  Story's over.  Faith didn't get hired.  Buh-bye now, everyone.



Sir, no offense, but that is just plain evil!


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> What?  Story's over.  Faith didn't get hired.  Buh-bye now, everyone.





Marauder06 said:


> Whoa whoa whoa, what's with this "elimination" there, Debby Downer?



Like I said, he gets eliminated.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

SOWT said:


> Like I said, he gets eliminated.



Hm, you should be intel.  Good predictive analysis.


----------



## digrar (Nov 10, 2013)

6 weeks until Christmas, plenty of time to bash out the next case study...


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

Well this wouldn't be a Case Study on SS if something didn't get go wrong towards the end.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

OK, as much as I'd like to milk the resolution of this case study for another day or two, simply for my own amusement, I've got some things going on that require my full attention.  As most of you know, these case studies aren't over until you see THE END.  So here is the rest of the story, as they say.  Enjoy, thanks for participating, and as always thanks for your patience.

/////

“Please wait here for further instructions,” Colonel Evans said curtly before he and the other officers departed.  Faith felt someone’s stare upon him, and looked up to see his old friend Simon Criss trying to make eye contact.  “Never Say Quit!” Criss mouthed to Faith before departing the room.

Faith collapsed into a chair.  What was he going to do now?  How was he going to explain this to his wife?  Had he done all of this for nothing?  As he sat in the chair making sure he wasn’t going to start crying, the door opened and General Molland walked in.  Faith jumped up and snapped to the position of attention.  Ken followed shortly behind.

“Take your seat,” Molland directed.  “So, what did Colonel Evans tell you?” he inquired.

“He said that the 16th SAVE was unable to offer me a job, and that he was sending me back to the 116th Transportation Brigade,” Faith told him.

“Ha!” Molland exclaimed.  “Evans always did have a dry sense of humor.  Did he say why the 16th couldn’t give you a job?”

“No sir, I guess I wasn’t what they were looking for.”

“Are you kidding me?  You are exactly what they are looking for.  That’s why Evans was so pissed off during the board.”

“Sir?” Faith said, not understanding.

“I told them they couldn’t have you,” Molland explained.

“Sir?” Faith said again. Surely the commander of SOCOM wouldn’t cock-block a deserving candidate from an important SOF assignment over something like a loss in a racketball game.

“I told them that they couldn’t have you, because I want you to be my new aide,” Molland explained.  It took Faith a while for this to sink in.

“But Colonel Evans’ objection…” Faith began.

“Yeah, he objected to me poaching his #1 draft pick out of the intel bubbas,” Molland informed him.  “Tim… I mean Ken is moving on,” Molland continued.  I asked him to check out the current crop of candidates for a good replacement.  He picked you.  When I saw you I remembered you from our little racketball date a while back.  Based on how you handled that, and our assessment, I wanted you as my new aide.  I had to wrestle Evans over it, but eventually he came around to my way of thinking.”  Molland smiled.  “So yes, you’re going back to the 116th Trans, to outprocess and start your new job here as my aide de camp.”

Faith was speechless.  “Unless… you don’t want the job?” Molland said.

“Sir, I would LOVE to be your aid,” Faith said, the enormity of this situation finally settling in.  “When do I start?” he asked.

“You already have,” Molland answered.

“How long is this assignment?” Faith inquired.

“Until you lose to me in racketball,” Molland answered, grinning wryly.  “Ken, can you get him spun up?”

“Sure thing sir,” Ken answered as Molland rose and left the room.  Ken then gave Faith a wink and said, “Welcome to the team, bro.  I told you that you weren’t going to get that S2 job.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Faith said, smiling back.

“So, does it feel good to be starting a new evolution of your career?” Ken asked.

“Evolution?  With all I’ve been through lately, landing this gig is more like a revolution,” Faith answered.  And he meant it.  To go from flying high in 2nd Group, to the low of getting run out of that unit and shunted over to the 116th Trans, to the roller coaster of assessing for 16th SAVE, and now to being the aide de camp for the most powerful man in Special Operations.

“Wait until my wife hears about this…”

THE END


----------



## racing_kitty (Nov 10, 2013)

Holy crap, and I haven't turned 40 yet!!!


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

Called the aide job!


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

Excellent - now the next Case Study will be out before Easter right ?


----------



## digrar (Nov 10, 2013)

So where did Shannon end up?


----------



## Daedalus (Nov 10, 2013)

digrar said:


> So where did Shannon end up?



Shannon was his wife in disguise!


----------



## medicchick (Nov 10, 2013)

Well, I'm off to actually read the other case studies.  It seems like I missed quite a bit of back story but now I have time to get through them all (although it looks like I read some, I'm finding reply's from before).


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

medicchick said:


> Well, I'm off to actually read the other case studies.  It seems like I missed quite a bit of back story but now I have time to get through them all (although it looks like I read some, I'm finding reply's from before).



I am doing the same thing.  Just finished the faithful wife.  I still need to read Karma and Soul Plane.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

medicchick said:


> Well, I'm off to actually read the other case studies.  It seems like I missed quite a bit of back story but now I have time to get through them all (although it looks like I read some, I'm finding reply's from before).



Anyone else who is in a similar mood, read this one first, then I think this one, and then this one, and then this one, and then the current case study will make a little more sense.  I think it goes:

loving wife
soul plane
karma
Sun Tzu
revolution


----------



## policemedic (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> What?  Story's over.  Faith didn't get hired.  Buh-bye now, everyone.



Move along, people…Nothing to see here? :-"

Somehow, I doubt it


----------



## Mac_NZ (Nov 10, 2013)

WHO WAS SHANNON!!!!   TELL ME DAMN YOU!!!!


----------



## Salt USMC (Nov 10, 2013)

So I need a bit of clarification: Is being a general's aide considered a good job?  I wasn't an officer so I always thought of aides as sort of like an adjutant, and those guys seemingly were always morose.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 10, 2013)

Hm, yeah, she kind of disappeared from the story, didn't she?  And wasn't it weird how she kept saying she wasn't assessing for the 16th... yet she was assessing for "something," so why was she participating in the assessment and selection process for the 16th if she wasn't trying out for the 16th?  I wonder what that was all about.


----------



## medicchick (Nov 10, 2013)

Marauder06 said:


> Hm, yeah, she kind of disappeared from the story, didn't she?  And wasn't it weird how she kept saying she wasn't assessing for the 16th... yet she was assessing for "something," so why was she participating in the assessment and selection process for the 16th if she wasn't trying out for the 16th?  I wonder what that was all about.


I figured it'd go into Case Study #7.

Oh, and I think the hate towards the lose ends has caused the server to run and hide.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 10, 2013)

Assessing for the aide job maybe, she gets the S-2 job as a consolation prize.

You have to Postscript this with the Dud's reaction.


----------



## LogDog0402 (Nov 10, 2013)

Deathy McDeath said:


> So I need a bit of clarification: Is being a general's aide considered a good job?  I wasn't an officer so I always thought of aides as sort of like an adjutant, and those guys seemingly were always morose.



Being an aide is somewhat dependent on the general you work for.  I had a friend who liked his time as an aide but the general may have been the coolest general ever too.  Others have horror stories as an aide.  I was never an aide so I can only speculate to the advantages of being an aide.


----------



## Kraut783 (Nov 10, 2013)

Mmmmmm.....Shannon is now with ISA?


----------



## policemedic (Nov 10, 2013)

Kraut783 said:


> Mmmmmm.....Shannon is now with ISA?



She could tell you, but, y'know...


----------



## TB1077 (Nov 11, 2013)

Is this a record for fastest case study?  I actually thought I somehow slept through the holidays as I figured this was going to take a bit longer...


----------



## Mac_NZ (Nov 11, 2013)

I wonder if there is any chance Faith can fuck the dud and that other asshat over now he is in a position to whisper things in a certain persons ear.


----------



## Ranger Psych (Nov 11, 2013)

That shit tier OER is going to get trumped... lol


----------



## Chopstick (Nov 11, 2013)

racing_kitty said:


> You should've known something like that was coming.  They put it out in the initial briefing for the event that it was a 15-mile march on a course that's ten out and ten back.  That's five miles left unaccounted for.  In any kind of selection, that kind of distance isn't going to be unaccounted for, unplanned for, or anything like that.  They damned sure weren't going to have a stretch limo waiting on them with a jacuzzi in the rear deck for the final five miles.


I would have been the idiot to point it out at the the time it was said.  THAT is why "Chopstick" is not in this case study


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 11, 2013)

Chopstick said:


> I would have been the idiot to point it out at the the time it was said.  THAT is why "Chopstick" is not in this case study



Actually, you correctly pointed out an error in the story.  Originally it was going to be a 20 mile footmarch, which is why it was 10 out and 10 back.  But then I thought, "20 miles is a damn long way for support guys and pilots to have to walk, I don't think it's realistic," so I cut it down to 15... but didn't adjust the "out and back" distance.  However, I liked Racing Kitty's explanation for the discrepancy so much, I decided to leave it as-is ;)

If any of you do find errors in any of the case studies, please let me know.  If something doesn't make sense, if there is something you don't understand, or if it's contradictory or wrong, let me know and I'll get it sorted out.


----------



## Marauder06 (Nov 11, 2013)

OK, "What really happened" time.

Clearly, the 16th SAVE is meant to represent the 160th SOAR.  No surprises there.  And while there is a rather robust assessment and selection program to join the 160th, it's nothing like the one one portrayed in this case study, which is rather a mash-up of a bunch of different events from different A&S programs I've heard about over the years.  I've never heard of "trojan horse" fake candidates (like Ken was in this story), although I think it is an excellent idea.  

I was never a general's aide in real life.  A question was asked earlier about whether being an aide is a good gig for an officer; the answer to that question is a resounding "yes" in most cases.

The whole "until you best me in racketball" side plot was based on a story that one of my professors told me.  He did, in fact, get offered an aide job after beating the general in question in a game of racketball.  I really liked that story and decided to try to insert it into a case study some day.  I've never played racketball in real life.

IRL, I did try to get out of the Army several times.  There was one occasion in which I dashed off a scathing resignation letter while I was away from my unit on TDY.  My immediate boss, who wasn't really much of a leader but tried hard to take care of us, sat on it instead of forwarding it up the chain of command, because he knew what I had written would get my ass torn off at the Division level.  He knew, or suspected, that there was a stoploss coming, and decided I didn't need to have the additional problem of being a marked man inside the Division and also not be able to get out of the Army.  I'm still grateful he did that.

The grad school rejection letters... that was based in fact too.  I got rejected by a lot of grad schools, but like I said in an earlier post I got accepted by one really good one, so it all worked out.

Some of the characters in this case study are  compilations of people I know in real life, some of whom are members of this site.  The "MAJ Roberts" character is loosely based on several assclown officers it has been my extreme misfortune to have to serve with over the years.  The "Shannon" person is based on someone I knew at JSOC.  I included her in this story as an example of how yes, there are women in the most elite units in our military and yes, sometimes they are in a "do-er" role, not just a stereotypical support role.  You will see her again in a later case study.  And not to worry, Chief Collins and the Special Forces guys will be back as well. I just didn't want to choke up the plot line with too many characters.

Now, some of the key leadership lessons.

1)  Interpersonal relationships matter.  In fact, in our line of work, they are arguably the most important thing.  Much of what happened to Faith, for good or ill, was due to his ability or inability to manage interpersonal relationships.
2)  Keep yourself physically and mentally ready.  You never know when an opportunity might drop into your lap, and you have to be ready to capitalize on it. "Ranger School?  Oh, I'd love to, I only need two months to get ready.  What's that?  The class is next week?  Better give it to someone else, then." 
3)  Keep trying.  You will experience setbacks in the military as you will in other parts of your life.  Don't give up.  "Never Say Quit."
4)  Help people out when you can, as much as you can.  It almost always comes back to you in a good way.
5)  Attention to detail matters.
6)  No one likes a guy who goes around acting all butt-hurt all the time.  Man up, take your lumps, drive on.   
7)  Three things cause most of the problems in the military:  relationship issues, substance abuse (including alcohol), and saying stupid things.  If you can avoid these three pitfalls, most of your career ought to go pretty smoothly.

Any other questions or comments about this case study?


----------



## dirtmover (Nov 11, 2013)

I am glad that I got to finish reading it before I redeployed back CONUS.  lol


----------



## Kraut783 (Nov 11, 2013)

Good story, always enjoy them Sir!

Look forward to seeing more in the future.


----------



## DA SWO (Nov 13, 2013)

Just think, the Dud loses his "pet CPT(P)".

The 2nd SFG Cdr has to be nice to the guy he fired.

You could make another case study just on the interactions of those two individuals.


----------

