Demobilization = Demoralization

Over 1000 troops from the California National Guard are returning from a near year-long deployment to Kosovo.

The mission is complete. Kosovo is safe. We did our duty, and our families are waiting to see us.

But there is tiny step we have to complete before that plane ride home. It's a series of procedures designed to close out our activation: dental and medical checks, final administrative documentation upkeep, and signing the all-important DD 214.

All this takes place (for us) at Fort Lewis, Washington, where we are given the hero's welcome and housed in run-down building almost 70 years old.

We have sacrificed our time and safety, left our families to fend for themselves, and served a foreign people in a foreign land without complaint all in the name of patriotic honor.

After all that we are met with one final indignity.

I'm not expecting the red carpet, but seriously, I'm sleeping in a bunk that may well have been a Korean War vet's bed. That should be some sort of honor, I suppose.

I just think that there are a lot of ways that the Army could pretend it appreciates its returning warriors more.

You've got to see this chow hall that we have. I think some of the canned foodstuffs were also left over from the Korean War.

To top it all off, a process that should last three days is being dragged out to eight. That's not exaggeration, either. Many of us arrived on Saturday. The contractors don't work weekends, so we began with briefing on Monday, and got our hour-long dental visit out of the way on Tuesday. The remaining three days of the work week will be filled with approximately six hours of tasks.

Gym usage is at a deployment high.

We'd like to get home. The Army doesn't seem to be responsive to Soldiers' needs or wants.

I'll bet those of you who have been deployed have some stories of your own.

A Penetrating Glimpse of Army Basic Training

Many of you may know that I have completed my account of Basic Training.

During my horrendous stint at Fort Sill for Army boot camp, I recorded many thoughts in my daily journal and dozens of letters to my wife.

Basic Combat Training so scarred me that I decided to put my experience in book form. It's done. The wounds have healed, and I have successfully evaded complete indoctrination, so I am prepared to tell it like it is.

The book is about my time in Basic. Nine Weeks, it's called. And people tell me it's funny. My wife told me it's hilarious, and though I have to take any compliment she pays me with a grain of salt, others have corroborated her assessment.

So in approximately one month from now this book will be available on Amazon.com. I hope you get jonesed for it and decide to get yourself an early Christmas present.

Remember, Nine Weeks. You can read slightly more about it at my website: www.rich-stowell.com.

If you've served, I'd love to hear your stories of Army Basic Training. If you've never been, I'd like you to post what you think boot camp is really like. Because my misconceptions were shattered when I went over two years ago.

And all I have is a book to show for it.

Guarded Speech

I had a wonderful conversation with two officers the other day. While discussing the pros and cons of Army organization and culture, I admitted that I could not be totally honest with them.

They seemed surprised and even disappointed.

But, as I often do with Soldiers who outrank me, I had to remind them that their world is colored by the insignia planted on their chests. We are all affected deeply by rank dynamics; it is impossible to avoid it. That is, after all, why the military has formal rank.

But it always surprises me when people claim that it doesn't affect them, that somehow rank doesn't matter. Such a claim is an utter delusion.

Not too long ago I was in a meeting with a couple of dozen Soldiers: two lieutenants, four captains, half a dozen majors, a handful of light colonels, a full-bird, and a smattering of staff sergeants, sergeants first class, and master sergeants. There was one other E4 besides me.

It was an informational briefing, and I was struck by how desperately everyone was out to impress the colonel with their information. It was the bling at BET awards night.

Even the colonel noticed, and brought it to a halt: "If you don't have anything don't put it in [the slide]. Don't make it up."

Aside from the sycophantic spewing of information, relevant or not, I also noticed how guarded everybody seemed to be. Opinions were offered half-heartedly, not-so-good news was explained away in the most rationalizing terms, and clarifications were cut short prematurely because of a perceived look of annoyance on the part of the high-ranking.

None of this is healthy for an organization that feeds on information. The main things that were accomplished from this particular meeting were that those who performed well or said the right things got a few brownie points with the colonel, while those who offered unflattering information or did anything timidly lost points.

Somebody needs to wise up to the fact that good decision must be based on a free exchange of information. The problem is that those at the top are probably not wise enough, and those at the bottom are too afraid to let anyone know.

How open and honest is communication in your organization?