Narmy

He said:
Today I officially became a member of the "Narmy." That's one of the catchy t-shirt slogans they have here for the Navy folks going through combat training with Army Drill Instructors. "Here," by the way, is South Carolina.

Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Oh and did I mention? Hydrate. That's the mantra. It is hot and humid and the mantra is "hydrate, hydrate, hydrate." I appreciate the color-coded charts at every urinal and toilet that help you determine your hydration/dehydration level by the color of your urine on the spectrum of dark yellow (bad) to clear (good).

Today was gear issue and we sat outside in the sweltering heat and humidity taking inventory of all the things they said we needed. I was appreciative of the sun block they gave us as I sat in a small patch of shade and mosquitos ate away at my legs. Not for the first time, I wondered why no one has yet invented a combination sunscreen/bug-repellent. Deep Woods Coppertone. Or Tropic-Off. Something. Just invent it, someone. Who needs two bottles? Especially if you already have three Sea Bags full of useful things like a shovel and cold weather gear. Okay, one Sea Bag of that crap, with the other two actually having the good stuff like body armor and a camelback.

Speaking of camelbacks. Went into one of the buildings that might once have been a fast-food snack shack to get ice for my new camelback. I was amused to find, afixed neatly to the top of a corroded and pitted and rusted sink, a sign with instructions on "how to keep your new Brandname stainless steel sink looking new." Or something to that effect. I'll have to take a picture.

Anyway. Hot and sweaty and stinky. Outfitted with all my gear, or "battle rattle", and ready to begin the process of training to fight like someone in the Narmy.

I'll take it, cuz its my job. And I volunteered for it. And I love my country and am prepared to do what it takes to defend her at home or abroad, and to defend the cause of freedom for those not fortunate enough to have it and not capable of fighting for it themselves.

I'll take it. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't rather be sitting at the dinner table, supressing a laugh and exchanging one of those smiles with my wife, as we listen to our boys talk about poop.

Not exactly an appropriate dinner conversation, and I'm sure I'd have said something to that effect had I been there. But I'm not. I'm here learning about the Narmy. And she's there probably thinking, "I wish he could have been here to hear that." Besides, that's what boys are good for anyway. Talking about the really important things and keeping life in perspective.

God bless them.