Girls Want Guys With Skills


Modern Day Cyclops
Verified Military
Jun 5, 2008
Ft. Sam Houston
My arrival at 1-8 Cav coincided with the beginning of the exodus of most of the guys who had previously deployed with the unit, the PA, and the arrival of fresh-out-of-AIT-meat. Shortly put, experienced medics were in high demand and so was a more highly trained medical officer.

No big deal, we'd just wait for the next available PA to be assigned. And wait....and wait....and wait. We leached off our sister battalion's PA for sick call purposes, but that was about it. For all intents and purposes, we became The Lost Boys. An orphaned bunch of medic hobos scrapping over the last pieces of meat in the mean streets of Ft. Hood. We had no highly trained medical leadership, and our medical training devolved into us flinging feces at one another. Sure, the guys who had already "been there, done that" taught and relayed as much as they could, but there was only so much they could do.

As it would turn out, 1-8 had an actual MD attached to it. He actually alternated between working at the TMC or hospital, so he had little to no contact with the actual unit. The way it worked, I think, is that if the battalion deployed, then he would deploy with us. There was a term for it, but that part of my memory has been overtaken by more important things, like fantasy football stats or the amount of Saltine crackers I can consume without water in 5 minutes(not many).

So we ended up asking Lt. Col X to train us. The asking turned into begging, followed shortly by attempts at bartering where the newest guys were being offered as personal slaves to cater to whatever dark, unspeakable fetish the guy had. The trade ended up working, and we never saw one of our Asian privates again.

By this time, it was about 2 months before we deployed. The good Lt. Col had told us to meet by the aid station at 1400 hours, and we obeyed. We were pretty excited since this would be our first real opportunity to receive training by somebody with this sort of knowledge. We'd been told not to bring our aid bags, but nobody really gave that a second thought.

So out comes Lt. Col X, and it looked like he was carrying some sort of stick/staff. Upon further inspection, he had no medical gear of any sort. The following briefing went something like this:

" many of you would be interested in learning self defense techniques with a bo staff?"


The fuck?

"I've been lobbying for you guys to all be issued shotguns, because I think that a shotgun is the perfect weapon for a medic to carry. I'm not sure if it will work, but if it doesn't, I'd still like for you guys to have some sort of self defense weapon. A bo staff is pretty easy to carry and store. I've been taking martial arts classes for a while now, and I could teach you all a few things."

At this point in the story, I should let you know that during the unit's first deployment, this Lt. Col caused a little ruckus after he blasted a family's dog with his shotgun for "aggressively barking at him." Some people liked to call him "eccentric." I like the phrase "functionally retarded," myself.

So on the briefing went. Medical questions were asked, but we were then admonished for straying from the subject at hand: bo staffs. Basically, we spent a couple hours of our lives watching this guy twirl his staff, and we then got in trouble for being disrespectful and asking questions that were not pertinent to the matters at hand.

A few months later, still without a PA, we deployed. Lt. Col X went with us, and the couple of weeks we spent in Kuwait turned out to be perfect opportunity for some last minute classes to hone our skills. After badgering the man endlessly with the phrase "medical training," he finally agreed. We'd meet at a rarely-used gym on the base at ___ hours.

"There's a technique I've been meaning to talk to you guys about..."
Hell yeah there is.

"Have any of you ever heard of "sticky hands?"
Needless to say, jokes about masturbation followed.

"It's a martial arts technique..."
Aw shit. Sonofabitch...not this again...

"Tell me, do any of you know how to properly disarm an enemy combatant if he comes at you with, say, a bayonet?"
....Wtf?...Did he just say "bayonet?"

The next hour was spent by breaking off into pairs in which one person would play as the bayonet-armed insurgent, and the other would employ the sticky hands technique(which can obviously be mastered in a single, one hour class) to disarm the assailant. No medical training was had.

It should go without saying that those skills came in handy numerous times throughout our deployment, like when the insurgents hired those dicks from Cobra Kai.


Yeah, it got pretty ugly for a while.
You have such a way with words. LMAO @ the Cobra Kai.

It always sucks when you have a group of people that want to learn something specific (or keep up a skill not used often) and can't find anyone to give them that training.