Ehhh.... You're probably right about that. Apologies.
I was so overwhelmed that Marauder posted so many updates that I might have skipped something. :)
Case Study: The Soul Plane Incident
- Thread starter Marauder06
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I was so overwhelmed that Marauder posted so many updates that I might have skipped something. :)
Dame
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Hey, I could be wrong. That could be what he wants us to think. Not sure anyone saw them getting on the plane.
:) School starts tomorrow and I want to get this wrapped up before it goes on for months like #2 did. I should be completely finished before I go to bed tonight.
No tricks this time, ;) they got off the bus the first time you went out to the plane, and they're still there. Well, as far as anyone knows they're still there.
That team sergeant of theirs is pretty sketchy, maybe they got tired of waiting and hijacked the plane!/////
The “thing” that you’re forgetting bursts from the terminal doors just before the buses depart to take you to the plane. Oh crap, you think as COL Stack board the first bus. He’s obviously looking for you. You get up to go meet him, but pause when you see Stack emerge from the first bus with CPT Jones following close behind. Through the windshield, Jones sees you and raises one hand in a subtle “I’ve got this” gesture. Stack yells for at least a full minute at Jones, who is standing at stark attention in front of him. When he’s done, Jones makes a short reply, and then pulls out a small notebook and writes something down and hands it to the colonel. Stack looks at it, says something else, and Jones salutes smartly. The colonel turns without returning the salute and disappears back into the terminal. Jones lowers his arm and gives you a wink before he steps up in to the bus. Whatever just happened, can’t be good. Jones is a good friend and has many redeeming qualities, but dealing with authority isn’t one of them. You wonder what he did that made COL Stack come after him directly. Oh well, whatever it was, it made Stack completely forget about you.
You go straight from the buses to the plane. MSG Rush seems to have recovered a bit, but isn’t quite his usual self. You manage to account for everyone- even Douchet- and all eight members of the ODA are present. Paul approaches as you look over the manifest paperwork one more time. “Everything good sir?” he asks. “Well, we can take off, but we’re definitely not ‘good.’” Paul, not having the slightest idea what you’re talking about, gives you a perplexed look.
“We had a bad day today, starting with some guys puking in the bus, and kind of went downhill from there,” you explain.
Paul laughs, “Your guys too? That’s why I got my guys off the buses and back into the plane, two of them said they were about to blow chow and I didn’t want them doing it in front of all the support guys. I thought that had too much to drink, but I started feeling a little queasy too. I think it was the food. We got everyone hooked up to some IVs and I think we’re going to be ok.”
“Yeah, the food, the beer, the heat, and the Ambien-” you start
“You gave a bunch of drunk Soldiers Ambien?” Paul asks, “Before the plane took off? Sir, that’s a rookie mistake.”
“Yeah, maybe I should have just given them one instead of the two-“
“You gave them TWO pills? Sir, two pills of that size are enough to put some of these guys into a coma for the duration of the flight! Plus, there’s no telling what kind of reaction they’re going to have with the combination of alcohol and Ambien. Didn’t you read the bottle before handing it out?”
Sure enough, the bottle specifies one pill, and states in bold letters, “DO NOT TAKE WITH ALCOHOL.” Oh well, live and learn.
Paul smiles, “Well, it’s all good now I guess, everyone is on board with all their stuff, and now we all get to go home.
“I suppose,” you say, not looking forward to explaining to the Group commander what happened on your watch as mission commander for this flight.
Swashbuckler
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Ruh roh... :eek:
Shuffling through the aisle to his seat, CPT Jones catches Paul’s attention. “Hey Paul, you left at the wrong time, you should have seen the second show at the club!” he exclaims, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Chief Rollins, directly behind him, says nothing and looks a bit embarrassed. Jones has absolutely no tact, it’s amazing that he has made it this far in the Army. Jones plops down into the seat beside you with a huge grin on his face. Clearly, he wants you to ask what happened back at the terminal with Stack.
“OK, spill it, what happened back at the terminal with COL Stack,” you urge.
“Oh, that little thing?” replies Jones, very clearly pleased with himself, “That was nothing. I was sitting on the bus, flirting with the bus driver and minding my own business like a good captain, when this pissed off colonel suddenly jumps on the bus demanding ‘Where is that damned captain?’ Well, usually when someone is looking for a ‘damned captain’ they’re looking for me, and since I’m the only captain on the bus, he must be talking to me, right? So we get off the bus and he starts going off about something that happened in the terminal. It takes me a minute, but eventually I figure out he’s thinks I’m you! Did you really pee all over the keyboard in his office?” Jones seems impressed.
“It wasn’t his office, and it wasn’t me,” you declare emphatically. “Give me the reader’s digest version, what happened next?”
“Well, since he thought I was you, I did what I thought you would do. I stood at attention, said ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ a lot, and then when he asked for it, I gave him a totally fictitious name and contact information for our Group commander.”
“You did WHAT?” you ask, stunned, “And what do you mean, ‘what I would have done,’ I never would have given a colonel a fake name.”
“Yeah, you’re right, that was me being me again. Besides, I was already wearing pseudo nametapes and to give him your- I mean my real name would have looked… irregular.” You’re almost afraid to look and see what name CPT Jones is wearing. In Iraq, he worked with detainees so he was one of the only support guys authorized Velcro-backed nametapes on his DCUs. He took full advantage of it, coming up with a variety of… ‘colorful’ names for himself. As if that weren’t enough, he would amuse himself and the other members of the detachment by swapping out fake names on the unattended uniform blouses of other members of the Group. You, for example, were captain “Obvious” for half a day before you noticed the snickers and funny looks, and the Group S2 was major “Confusion” until his next laundry day. CPT Jones’ name-swapping came to an abrupt halt after he found the Group sergeant major’s blouse unattended in the JOC and replaced his name- Bear- with the name ‘Care.’ The sergeant major, unamused by being “Care Bear,” ensured that such incidents would not be repeated by the young captain in the future.
With CPT Jones’ past antics in mind, you look down at his uniform. The tape over his right breast pocket, which should read JONES, instead reads, RICK JAMES. The one over his left breast pocket, which should read U.S. ARMY, reads BITCH. “Please tell me you weren’t wearing those when COL Stack thought you were me.”
“Yep, afraid so,” he confirms. I don’t think he looked past my last name though.
“He didn’t think it was odd that you had two last names?” you say in disbelief.
“I think the good colonel thinks pretty much everything about us is odd,” he responds. “I’m just glad he didn’t notice this one,” he points to the tape over his left breast pocket.
“But why did you do it? I thought you hung up the name-swapping months ago,” you say, despairingly.
“Because I’m Rick James, bitch!” CPT Jones exclaims loudly, doing his best Dave Chappelle imitation. Soldiers in the seats around you laugh out loud.
<<for those of you unfamiliar with Dave Chappelle's "Rick James" skit:>>
“Relax,” Jones continues, “I gave him my office number as the number for the Group commander and told him no one would be in until Monday. So when Colonel Stack calls for Colonel Enema on Monday to complain about Captain Rick James, I’ll be the one to take the call.”
“Do you think that will make things better, or worse?” you ask incredulously.
Jones shrugs, becoming bored with the conversation, then turns around in his seat to get a better look at the row behind him. “So Paul, let me tell you about your girl Chief Rollins at the club a little while ago…”
“OK, spill it, what happened back at the terminal with COL Stack,” you urge.
“Oh, that little thing?” replies Jones, very clearly pleased with himself, “That was nothing. I was sitting on the bus, flirting with the bus driver and minding my own business like a good captain, when this pissed off colonel suddenly jumps on the bus demanding ‘Where is that damned captain?’ Well, usually when someone is looking for a ‘damned captain’ they’re looking for me, and since I’m the only captain on the bus, he must be talking to me, right? So we get off the bus and he starts going off about something that happened in the terminal. It takes me a minute, but eventually I figure out he’s thinks I’m you! Did you really pee all over the keyboard in his office?” Jones seems impressed.
“It wasn’t his office, and it wasn’t me,” you declare emphatically. “Give me the reader’s digest version, what happened next?”
“Well, since he thought I was you, I did what I thought you would do. I stood at attention, said ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ a lot, and then when he asked for it, I gave him a totally fictitious name and contact information for our Group commander.”
“You did WHAT?” you ask, stunned, “And what do you mean, ‘what I would have done,’ I never would have given a colonel a fake name.”
“Yeah, you’re right, that was me being me again. Besides, I was already wearing pseudo nametapes and to give him your- I mean my real name would have looked… irregular.” You’re almost afraid to look and see what name CPT Jones is wearing. In Iraq, he worked with detainees so he was one of the only support guys authorized Velcro-backed nametapes on his DCUs. He took full advantage of it, coming up with a variety of… ‘colorful’ names for himself. As if that weren’t enough, he would amuse himself and the other members of the detachment by swapping out fake names on the unattended uniform blouses of other members of the Group. You, for example, were captain “Obvious” for half a day before you noticed the snickers and funny looks, and the Group S2 was major “Confusion” until his next laundry day. CPT Jones’ name-swapping came to an abrupt halt after he found the Group sergeant major’s blouse unattended in the JOC and replaced his name- Bear- with the name ‘Care.’ The sergeant major, unamused by being “Care Bear,” ensured that such incidents would not be repeated by the young captain in the future.
With CPT Jones’ past antics in mind, you look down at his uniform. The tape over his right breast pocket, which should read JONES, instead reads, RICK JAMES. The one over his left breast pocket, which should read U.S. ARMY, reads BITCH. “Please tell me you weren’t wearing those when COL Stack thought you were me.”
“Yep, afraid so,” he confirms. I don’t think he looked past my last name though.
“He didn’t think it was odd that you had two last names?” you say in disbelief.
“I think the good colonel thinks pretty much everything about us is odd,” he responds. “I’m just glad he didn’t notice this one,” he points to the tape over his left breast pocket.
“But why did you do it? I thought you hung up the name-swapping months ago,” you say, despairingly.
“Because I’m Rick James, bitch!” CPT Jones exclaims loudly, doing his best Dave Chappelle imitation. Soldiers in the seats around you laugh out loud.
<<for those of you unfamiliar with Dave Chappelle's "Rick James" skit:>>
“Relax,” Jones continues, “I gave him my office number as the number for the Group commander and told him no one would be in until Monday. So when Colonel Stack calls for Colonel Enema on Monday to complain about Captain Rick James, I’ll be the one to take the call.”
“Do you think that will make things better, or worse?” you ask incredulously.
Jones shrugs, becoming bored with the conversation, then turns around in his seat to get a better look at the row behind him. “So Paul, let me tell you about your girl Chief Rollins at the club a little while ago…”
Chicks dig him. ;)
It is an enormous relief to you when the plane finally takes off. There isn’t much conversation, most of the people who are awake are listening to music or watching DVDs on their laptops. CPT Jones, Chief Rollins, Paul from the ODA, and another of your Soldiers are engaged in a game of Hearts. They are making a lot of noise but don’t seem to be bothering anyone around them. You feel terribly fatigued, but can’t fall asleep; too much is running through your mind. You take out the bottle of Ambien, look at it for a minute, and put it away. It has caused enough trouble already.
Eventually you doze off and are aroused from a deep slumber by a loud commotion and… the smell of smoke? You’re instantly awake and standing. An alarm is going off inside the aircraft, and all of the air masks have deployed, dangling like spiders at the end of their plastic threads. The cabin is not filled with smoke, but you can definitely smell it. And whatever caused the problem, it was significant enough to set of the plane’s smoke detector.
You fight your way through a small knot of struggling bodies to find CPT Jones and SGT Douchet grappling on the floor. From what you can understand, when Douchet wanted to play cards and Jones declined, Douchet decided to retaliate by setting fire to Jones’ uniform cap. The result was a big, smoldering, stinking mess. You separate Jones and Douchet, who smells like he has been drinking again; he must have brought something with him in-flight. Jones smells pretty much the same. Paul says, “I’ll take care of this, sir,” and disappears towards the back of the airplane with Douchet.
The alarm and the deployed air masks bring a lot of unwanted attention. One of the C5 crew chiefs and an officer of the flight crew confront you about what happened. Despite your assurances that you have the situation in order, they are making a big deal out of the situation. The crew chief notices something on the ground and retrieves CPT Jones’ charred patrol cap and a nearly-empty pint bottle of Southern Comfort. This isn’t going to go over well with the Group chain of command, either.
<<author’s note: if this bit sounds familiar, it’s because I lifted it pretty much directly from Case Study #2>>
After spending every waking moment of the flight from Europe to home station contemplating how many bars you are going to lose from your collar once the Group commander finds out about what happened, you and the company arrive at home station. After a mercifully brief customs inspection, the company was released to the flock of families and well-wishers that congregated at the flight line. At a predesignated time, all of the Soldiers returned to the buses that were waiting to take them to the Group garrison area. After a sensitive items inventory and a final manifest check, everyone was released on a two-day pass. A few days of post-redeployment activities after that, and the unit will be released for block leave.
The day after you get back though, there’s a very conspicuous email in your inbox from the Group Deputy Commanding Officer (DCO). In the “subject” line of the email, it says only, “See me. Now.” There are no words in the body of the email. You know immediately what this is about- the series of incidents that your First Sergeant has taken to calling “Soul Plane,” and CPT Jones refers to as “Terminalgate.”
Stories about the DCO’s combat valor and leadership abilities are as famous within the Group as his ass-chewing ability. For an officer, having to go see the DCO when you know you’ve screwed something up is just as bad as having to go see the Group CSM for enlisted and NCOs. Sitting at your office, you try to mentally prepare yourself for what you know is coming. The worst part is the uncertainty. You’ve had several dealings with the DCO in the past, which have up to this point been very cordial. You wonder what’s going to happen when you walk into the DCO’s office on your own.
Although you don’t tell anyone about the DCO’s email and your pending ass chewing, First Sergeant finds out somehow and insists on coming with you, even though he had nothing to do with what happened in Europe, and wasn’t even on the flight, having come back on the advance party to make the arrangements for Bradley’s memorial ceremony, which is scheduled to occur the day after the Group returns from block leave..
On the way over to the DCO’s office, your mind races. The things that happened in Europe were pretty bad. Some of them were downright comical- at least they are in hindsight.
So what’s it going to be? A counseling statement, a letter of reprimand… surely not a relief for cause? Although you personally had no involvement in any of the incidents that happened, as the senior officer present and the trip lead, you were responsible. Your name is on the blame line.
You are very grateful that First Sergeant is coming with you and you don’t have to face the wrath of the DCO on your own. First Sergeant doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about this as you are. Whereas you are taking your time walking through the Group Headquarters building and getting to the DCO’s office, First Sergeant seems almost… enthusiastic.
“Come on sir, it’s not gonna be that bad. Worst that can happen is that he’ll shitcan you on the spot and send you back to Mother Green.” (the conventional Army). Somehow, that doesn’t seem very reassuring to you but it brings a smile to your face to hear it nonetheless.
Arriving outside the DCO’s office, you take a deep breath and pound twice on the door. He instructs you to enter. He returns your salutes but does not instruct you to relax from the position of attention. He also does not move to close the door, which means everyone in the building is about to hear you get your ass chewed.
The DCO cocks his head to the side and looks at First Sergeant. He asks rhetorically why you brought your first sergeant with you when the email specified for you to come alone. He tells First Sergeant to leave. First Sergeant refuses. To your enormous relief the DCO decides to let both of you get your asses chewed together.
The DCO likes to punctuate the highlights of his little talk with you by gesturing with his right index finger. The only problem is, he lost most of that finger in Afghanistan, and can only point with the nub. In fact, his nickname within the Group is “Frodo,” because he’s short, hairy, and only has nine fingers. You remember hearing that the DCO is extremely sensitive about the finger, which is why it’s curious to you that he keeps sticking it in your face while he’s talking. When he sticks that finger in your face to make a point, it’s all you can do not to stare at it.
Although it’s over relatively soon, you know that this is the worst ass chewing you ever received in your life. When he’s done with you, the DCO launches into the First Sergeant. The DCO wonders loudly how any First Sergeant could allow his CO to be so fucked up. He inquires what kind of First Sergeant has the type of company where discipline could break down so easily. He does everything he can, but First Sergeant refuses to be rattled, answering only with “yes sir,” “no sir,” or “I don’t know, sir.”
Eventually, the ass chewing is over and you are both kicked out of the office. You’re not certain, but you’re pretty sure that you get to keep your job, so long as there are no more repeats of Soul Plane.
As you walk out of the DCO’s office, First Sergeant whispers, “Sir, I think the DCO was pissed about something... but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.” You almost choke thinking about what the DCO would do to the two of you if he overhead you making fun of his missing finger. Passing the staff duty desk, the NCO of the day (having heard every word of the ass-chewing through the DCO’s paper-thin walls and the wide-open door) looks up at you and gives you a wink of support.
On the ride back over to the company area, you feel enormous relief that the Soul Plane incident is over and you can move on with post-deployment recovery. Later that afternoon, you administer some ass chewings of your own to the Soul Plane offenders in the company, then First Sergeant declares “NCO business” and takes over. You and the rest of the company take some well-deserved block leave. THE END
After spending every waking moment of the flight from Europe to home station contemplating how many bars you are going to lose from your collar once the Group commander finds out about what happened, you and the company arrive at home station. After a mercifully brief customs inspection, the company was released to the flock of families and well-wishers that congregated at the flight line. At a predesignated time, all of the Soldiers returned to the buses that were waiting to take them to the Group garrison area. After a sensitive items inventory and a final manifest check, everyone was released on a two-day pass. A few days of post-redeployment activities after that, and the unit will be released for block leave.
The day after you get back though, there’s a very conspicuous email in your inbox from the Group Deputy Commanding Officer (DCO). In the “subject” line of the email, it says only, “See me. Now.” There are no words in the body of the email. You know immediately what this is about- the series of incidents that your First Sergeant has taken to calling “Soul Plane,” and CPT Jones refers to as “Terminalgate.”
Stories about the DCO’s combat valor and leadership abilities are as famous within the Group as his ass-chewing ability. For an officer, having to go see the DCO when you know you’ve screwed something up is just as bad as having to go see the Group CSM for enlisted and NCOs. Sitting at your office, you try to mentally prepare yourself for what you know is coming. The worst part is the uncertainty. You’ve had several dealings with the DCO in the past, which have up to this point been very cordial. You wonder what’s going to happen when you walk into the DCO’s office on your own.
Although you don’t tell anyone about the DCO’s email and your pending ass chewing, First Sergeant finds out somehow and insists on coming with you, even though he had nothing to do with what happened in Europe, and wasn’t even on the flight, having come back on the advance party to make the arrangements for Bradley’s memorial ceremony, which is scheduled to occur the day after the Group returns from block leave..
On the way over to the DCO’s office, your mind races. The things that happened in Europe were pretty bad. Some of them were downright comical- at least they are in hindsight.
So what’s it going to be? A counseling statement, a letter of reprimand… surely not a relief for cause? Although you personally had no involvement in any of the incidents that happened, as the senior officer present and the trip lead, you were responsible. Your name is on the blame line.
You are very grateful that First Sergeant is coming with you and you don’t have to face the wrath of the DCO on your own. First Sergeant doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about this as you are. Whereas you are taking your time walking through the Group Headquarters building and getting to the DCO’s office, First Sergeant seems almost… enthusiastic.
“Come on sir, it’s not gonna be that bad. Worst that can happen is that he’ll shitcan you on the spot and send you back to Mother Green.” (the conventional Army). Somehow, that doesn’t seem very reassuring to you but it brings a smile to your face to hear it nonetheless.
Arriving outside the DCO’s office, you take a deep breath and pound twice on the door. He instructs you to enter. He returns your salutes but does not instruct you to relax from the position of attention. He also does not move to close the door, which means everyone in the building is about to hear you get your ass chewed.
The DCO cocks his head to the side and looks at First Sergeant. He asks rhetorically why you brought your first sergeant with you when the email specified for you to come alone. He tells First Sergeant to leave. First Sergeant refuses. To your enormous relief the DCO decides to let both of you get your asses chewed together.
The DCO likes to punctuate the highlights of his little talk with you by gesturing with his right index finger. The only problem is, he lost most of that finger in Afghanistan, and can only point with the nub. In fact, his nickname within the Group is “Frodo,” because he’s short, hairy, and only has nine fingers. You remember hearing that the DCO is extremely sensitive about the finger, which is why it’s curious to you that he keeps sticking it in your face while he’s talking. When he sticks that finger in your face to make a point, it’s all you can do not to stare at it.
Although it’s over relatively soon, you know that this is the worst ass chewing you ever received in your life. When he’s done with you, the DCO launches into the First Sergeant. The DCO wonders loudly how any First Sergeant could allow his CO to be so fucked up. He inquires what kind of First Sergeant has the type of company where discipline could break down so easily. He does everything he can, but First Sergeant refuses to be rattled, answering only with “yes sir,” “no sir,” or “I don’t know, sir.”
Eventually, the ass chewing is over and you are both kicked out of the office. You’re not certain, but you’re pretty sure that you get to keep your job, so long as there are no more repeats of Soul Plane.
As you walk out of the DCO’s office, First Sergeant whispers, “Sir, I think the DCO was pissed about something... but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.” You almost choke thinking about what the DCO would do to the two of you if he overhead you making fun of his missing finger. Passing the staff duty desk, the NCO of the day (having heard every word of the ass-chewing through the DCO’s paper-thin walls and the wide-open door) looks up at you and gives you a wink of support.
On the ride back over to the company area, you feel enormous relief that the Soul Plane incident is over and you can move on with post-deployment recovery. Later that afternoon, you administer some ass chewings of your own to the Soul Plane offenders in the company, then First Sergeant declares “NCO business” and takes over. You and the rest of the company take some well-deserved block leave. THE END
Does Douchet get a crash course in HANO?
I still trying to figure out why Mara ever thought that Chief Rollins didn't like to party. Every Chief I know like to party.
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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Speaking only for myself, I get better looking the more drinks the lady be holding.
Find one you like in "hot women in uniform" or whatever and post it here, that will be her.
It didn't ever work for your teammates...
why do you think we drank so much when you were around?Similar threads
