I swept the school’s hallway floors furiously, eager to be finished with my additional duties and task-free for the rest of the day.  Hour upon hour of military instruction in a classroom had me longing for fresh, outside air, peace and quiet, and possibly a beer.  By this point in time, I was getting good at taking every opportunity to not be in uniform and instead, exploring the city of Augusta, GA.  Finally finished, I flung my broom back into the cleaning closet and jetted out the nearest door.  Only a few steps out into freedom, I felt the undeniable vibration of a ringing cellphone in my pocket.

I need a quicker exit, I thought to myself, pulling the phone from my pocket.

Not recognizing the phone number, I answered hesitantly, half-expecting a classmate calling to notify me of another random tasking.

“Uh…hello?”

“Is this Lieutenant Bramlett,” the voice on the other side asked.

LT Bramlett and the Hookah

“This is he…” I responded slowly.  Definitely not one of my classmates.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Adam Roth, Commander of the 844th Engineer Battalion,” the voice said matter-of-factly.

“How can I help you Colonel Roth,” I asked, still unsure of where this conversation was headed.

“For starters,” he began. “Welcome to the United States Army and congratulations on your recent commissioning into the military.  Just so you’re aware, you’ve popped up on our books in the last few days, making you part of the 844th team.  I wanted to call, personally, and get an idea of what your goals and aspirations are in the Army Reserve.”

All of it sounded so rehearsed; I got the sense he had practiced these lines a few times before calling.  Regardless, I knew what I wanted in the Army and had no problem sharing it with this guy.

“To be honest sir, I actually have a lot of aspirations towards a career the Army.” I paused.  It occurred to me that if this guy was truly about to be my boss, I would need to choose my words carefully.  “In fact, I wasn’t planning on staying in the Reserves long…I intend to go onto active duty as soon as possible.”

Like any professional salesman, he started again without a missed beat.  “That’s great! The active duty side needs more dedicated officers like you!  I fully support your pursuits!  When do you start?”

I didn’t know what to say.  I hadn’t ACTUALLY applied for active duty as of yet.  My plan so far had been just to go for it in the near future.

“Well sir, I’m not sure yet.  I guess I’ll have to wait and hear back once the packet has been submitted…”

“Even better!  And I think I’ve got a proposition for you!”  This guy WAS a pro.  “You see, I happen to know that the active duty side of the Army doesn’t take brand new Lieutenants from the Reserve side without some kind of time in service and experience.  But I can offer you that service and experience, right here!  My unit is deploying to Iraq in the next few months and we’re in dire need of Signal Officer.  If you help me fill this need, I’ll make sure you get everything you want in the end.  How about it?”

This was the first I had heard of not being able to easily transfer to active duty and this guy DID seem to know what he was talking about.  I mulled over the proposition for a few seconds before giving my answer.  “Alright, sir.  I’m in.”  I never thought things through fully until it was usually too late.  Why should this be any different?

“Good choice young man,” Lieutenant Colonel Roth said.  “We’ll see you when you get here.”  And with that, he was off of the phone, leaving me in the deafening silence of my quick decision.

As rash a decision, one could assume I had no idea what I was doing.  But I did have valid justification.  You see, up until this point in my life, I had little to show for accomplishments in my adulthood and was tired of it.  I had squandered away enough good opportunities in my younger 20’s while my peers and friends had progressed in their career fields of choice.  Thus, it was time to reclaim my fate and going to war was going to be my fast-track.  My Mom was going to be sooo mad.

Touring "Victory Over America" Palace

My first few weeks at “war” were far from exciting as I spent the majority of my time glued to a desk, attempting to learn the intricacies of my new job.  To give a good comparison of this: it was like trying to drink water from a fire hose.  And my Soldiers were faring no better.  Like me, all of them were fresh out of Army training right before our deployment.  And like me, they had the look of a deer in the headlights as the team we were to replace taught us the common tasks we were to take on.  Going back and forth from work to my quarters consisted of sprinting as if my life depended on it.  I soon concluded that running was not necessary as I was probably safer on the base than anywhere in the United States.  Where else would I have the luxury of living behind a high wall crammed with guard towers, 24-hour security details, and surrounded by 40,000 Soldiers armed to the teeth?  Even knowing this, it was a month after my arrival before I dared venture out past the base walls with the big boys.

My first trip into actual Iraq was a 30-minute helicopter ride north to Balad, an Air Force base with no real difference in amenities from my own (Stryker).  Except that Balad had a swimming pool.  This alone was the deciding factor in my agreeing to an initial face-to-face meeting with my superiors.  Since our meeting that could have easily taken place over the phone, as expected, the entire event took a total of 10 minutes (including greeting and handshakes), leaving me the rest of the day to explore Balad as I awaited my flight back to home base.  And since one could literally walk the length of the base in less than 15 minutes, I had ample opportunity to examine every nook and cranny.  It was then that I discovered a tiny Iraq run shop, tucked away in a corner of the airbase.

I stepped into the shop and was immediately greeted by the owner, a squat Iraqi man who looked in his 50s.  I returned the Arabic custom greeting and waved off his offer for a tour of his wares.  Shops like these had sprung up on the American bases in recent years, all selling the same junk.  Most of the stuff was knock-off antiques, barely worth pennies (evident by the “made in China” inscriptions stamped on each), and I wasn’t prepared to haul anything back on the cramped helicopter ride back.  I passed by the walls of old currencies, random unit patches for resale, and fake name brand watches, making my way towards the back of the shop (where good items were usually hidden).  Stacks upon stacks of black market DVDs served as my aisles as I rummaged through the piles aimlessly (one can never have enough DVDs when deployed).  Finally reaching my way to the rear of the shop, I spied a familiar object that I would have never expected to see here.  Propped in the far back corner, unused and collecting dust was a wooden 6-string, acoustic guitar.  I hesitated for a minute before picking it up unsure if the guitar was actually for sale or just kept there as storage.  Squatting down to quietly to test the strings, I strummed lightly with the pads of my fingers.  The sound was nothing miraculous but considering the rare find, it was music to my ears.  It was good enough for me and wanted it.  I stood up and made my way back over to the shop owner.

“How much for the guitar back there?” I asked.

Rocking Out in Iraq

“100 dollars, “ he replied in a thick, Arabic accent.

“Sold.”

“No haggle?” He looked at me perplexed.  He seemed confused I wasn’t going to bargain for a cheaper price.  I’m no good at bargaining.  Even at a yard sale.

“No haggle, here’s the cash.”  I handed over the wad of cash from my pocket and grabbed my new toy.  Now I just had to hope that one of the pilots on the helicopter shared my love for music.  Choppers don’t usually come with storage compartments for band equipment.

Originally, I thought to keep my new guitar in my quarters (aka CHU, or containerized housing unit, or metal box with door and air conditioning).  But with so much of my time spent in the office, I rarely had the chance to play.  Even when I could manage a few minutes of free time to myself, my roommate’s opposing schedule meant my jamming out interfered with his napping.  So after a few days of sitting un-played in the corner, I brought the guitar to the office.

The 9 Soldiers in my charge and I shared a large office space; our desks were strewn about the room in a disheveled formation.  As the Battalion Communications officer for the unit, it was my duty (and those who worked under me) to provide computer, phone, network, and radio support to anyone who needed it.  I had decided early on that the best way to accomplish this kind was by running a Help Desk.  Soldiers and customers could come by my section with their technical issues, fill out a Trouble Ticket, and we would repair or replace the particular item.  The system worked well!  Except that in order to provide support to the amount of Soldiers we had in the unit, the Help Desk had to run 24/7…always fun.  This also meant that there was no alone time for anyone while actually in the office.  Personally, this meant having an audience every time I broke out the guitar.  For my Soldiers, it meant having to grit teeth and bear the grinding of my guitar as I attempted to play.

I started playing guitar at 14 when I received my first as a birthday gift from my mother.  After a month of picking out “Mary Had a Little Lamb” at a slow snail’s pace, my mother also decided to throw in guitar lessons as part of the birthday gift.  Luckily, my instructor was the coolest, most supportive teacher I could have asked for.  And Greg Eustace was a hippie that was down for whatever his students wanted to learn.  If you wanted to learn a song, he was in.  If you wanted to sit and chord grind, by God, he was in for some chord grinding.  In a matter of weeks, I learned songs from the likes of Green Day, Tonic, and Jewel (maybe not the best repertoire, but hey, we all start somewhere).  If it wasn’t for Greg’s motivation and lack of pressure, I probably would have dropped learning to play after a few frustrating months.  Instead, my interest only grew!  So when there came the time for the family to move again, I kept playing.  No matter where I’ve been over the years, I’ve always been sure to bring a guitar with me.    There will always be a place for drunken guitar playing and singing.

One night, after most of my guys had cleared out of the office, I pulled out my guitar for a little practice time.  My roommate Molina, another a staff officer in the Battalion (and musically inclined), joined my practice session with a set of bongo drums I had received in the mail as a gag gift from Mom.  Using sheet music from the Internet, we dove into playing bad renditions of our favorite songs.  But as bad as it probably sounded, we were lost in the moment, able to forget that we were trapped in the deserts of Arabia for the next year.  In fact, we were so caught up in the music neither of us heard my office door open as someone let themselves in.  It wasn’t until their shadow crossed my desk did it register that someone was with us.  Standing across my desk, looming over us stood my Battalion Commander, LTC Adam Roth, with the strangest look on his face.  I feel the need to mention here that receiving strange looks from this man was not unusual, for anyone.  Neither was being berated, lectured, completely ignored, or praised for actions one may have not been involved in (I was once thanked for making a website load faster while he browsed online…I had no involvement).  Caught in the act of time-wasting, I stood to face my commander and prepared myself for the onslaught of screaming.  Still silent, his eyes darted back and forth between Molina and I, as if deciding on which to cut apart with his words, first.

“Grab your little things and meet me in my office in five minutes,” he spat finally, turning on his heels and walking out of my office.

Molina sat back down, mortified (I was better used to scolding’s from the boss so I remained calm).  “Is he going to fire us?” he squeaked out.

I thought for a second.  “No.  He has no one to replace use with.  But let’s not keep him waiting.”

We gathered our gear and trudged down to the commander’s office.  I walked in first, Molina trailing behind solemnly, and stood at half-attention (half, because I wasn’t sure about how formal our visit was and I wanted to be prepared, either way).  LTC Roth sat with his back to us in his large swivel chair, furiously working away at some object that was too far out of my line of view to identify.  Probably my counseling statement, I thought to myself.  But as the boss’ chair spun back round towards me I couldn’t help but smile as I immediately recognized what he had: an electric guitar.

“I found some sheet music and want us to try it,” the boss said, half-singing as he went right into a song.

It only took about 10 seconds to realize that my Commander, perhaps, wasn’t the best singer or guitar player.  Completely off-key with half of the guitar chords correct, he banged out a disjointed “Hotel California.”  Molina and I did our best to join after a few notes with the harmony.  The boss played through the song twice, without stopping, before finally setting his guitar down.

He stared up at us questioningly.  “What did you boys think?”

I thought long and hard before deciding on my response. “Sir, for a first time run-through, that wasn’t half-bad.”

Molina remained silent but nodded his head in agreement.

“You know what I think?” the decider of our military fates asked.

I jumped in.  “That we should start a band?” I could only hope that my response came out less acerbic than it sounded in my head.

“That’s right! We just started a band!” He sat back in his chair, as if feeling accomplished.

Shit, I thought to myself, I’ve just worked myself into a corner.

Since Molina’s continuous silence meant he was probably not going to assist in extricating us from our sudden dilemma, I realized it was up to me.  Because I’m not the best at hiding my initial reactions to things I don’t agree with, I can only guess the look on my face as I spoke.

“Yes sir, we can definitely play more music.  Whenever you like.”

“You’re not getting it,” the boss said.  “When I say band, I mean a band.  As in playing for other people.”

I knew exactly what he meant.  I had only hoped that by playing stupid, I could buy myself enough time to figure a way out of it.  Boss man wasn’t having it.

“We keep having all our events thrown with no music.  I don’t like that.  With all of the Iraqi DVs (distinguished visitors) coming through for visits, we’ll have a fresh crowd to play for every time.”

Now it was my turn to feel mortified.  I could feel the blood drain from my face and the floor began to spin.  The thought of performing (badly) for not only my peers but for a group of dignitaries I had worked so long to impress was enough to make my body physically reject the idea.

My career survival instincts kicked-in.  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea, sir.”  But he wouldn’t let me finish…

Iraq and Roll!

“You two will be at the Annex tomorrow at 8pm for our first practice.”   And with that, he was out of the office and gone for the night, leaving Molina and I to piece together what had just happened.  Flustered, I grabbed my guitar and walked out of the office, turning back only to give Molina the look of death (how else will they learn?).  “Thanks for backing me up there…buddy.”

Within minutes, I was storming into my little, metal box of a home, pissed at myself for ever buying a guitar in Iraq.

The parents were given orders for a new location within weeks of my high school graduation.  It being no longer necessary for me to stay tied to the family, I used the opportunity for freedom from them, begging to stay in Texas where all my friends were.  After much deliberation, the parents agreed to my begging, on a certain condition: I must attend college.  Convinced that at any moment, my acting career was set to take off, I had no real intention of ever going to college.  But if that was what it took to get away from the parents and their military lifestyle, I was in.

Image via Wikipedia

The other condition for my staying in Texas was to live in an apartment with a friend that the parents trusted.  I would receive no financial support other than education purposes so I would have to pay my own any rent and utility fees.  This would be no issue.  I had recently accepted the job of ‘stocker’ at the nearby PetsMart and figured I would make more than enough to cover all of my expenses.  My only real problem was that at 17 no apartment complex could rent to me legally.  Nor was there a friend willing to sign for sole custody of an apartment we would share (I was not well-known for my fiscal responsibility at the time).  My workaround was to lie to the parents by sending them photos of a random apartment I located on the Internet and moving into a double wide trailer with a few co-workers.

My two, new roommates were a lot older than me but in the same dire, circumstances.  None of us had bank accounts, tangible goals, or real futures.  Chavez, who was closest in age, was a 25-year-old, prior military Hispanic guy, finally enjoying freedom from his stint in the Army.   He was more of a big brother to me, taking on the responsibility from my parents to keeping me alive throughout my mishaps and adventures. In return, I provided him a source of entertainment in our less than menial lives.

Then there was John: a 40-year-old with no aspiration in life other than to care for his 9 cats.  That’s right, 9…in our 3-bedroom, double wide trailer.  John pretty much stuck to himself, coming out of his hovel of a room either for more cat food or to watch big-screen in the living room.

I selected aviation for my major after registering at the local college.  The decision to become a pilot had come to me earlier in the summer, during a return flight from visiting with family.  The job seemed simple enough.  And it seemed pilots were given a great amount of respect.  Plus, a few of my friends were also pursuing aviation as a degree making the decision that much easier.  At this point, I knew nothing about flying planes and had little vested interest other than thinking it was a ’cool’ job.  What knowledge on the subject I DID retain was from a few weeks of simulated flight training at Space Camp, as a child.  But as anyone who has known me longer than a few hours can vouch for, I am a quick learner if I find the topic interesting.

I would estimate that it took me about 2 months to make the decision that ‘no, aviation was NOT interesting.’  Not that it was boring.  In fact, there were frequent occasions when I was having the time of my life while up in the air, though most of those times consisted of my instructor doing the actual flying while I sat along for the ride.  But flying (especially flying in the morning) interfered with the rest of my life.  And it was the rest of my life that was finally taking off.  I was the one deciding my bedtime and where/when my meals were taken.  Though my college was small, there were several others like it in the area, allowing for quite a burgeoning social life.  The minimum wage I earned at PetsMart meant working 50-55 hours a week to keep up on rent and utilities (and pay for my social activities).  With such a hectic schedule, I was bound to begin lagging behind in some areas.  Unfortunately, it was being a pilot that was given the lowest priority.  And the flight academy could not have agreed more.

Image via Wikipedia

It was springtime and around month 8 of my flight instruction when I was pulled into the dean’s office for a ‘conversation’.  According to the dean, with the amount of flight hours I had put in, I should have received my Private Pilot’s License already.  Yet I was nowhere close to being prepared for the required examination.  A private pilot’s license would have allowed me to fly any small-wing aircraft single-handedly, for the rest of my life.  And frankly, the aviation department just did not trust me in skies by myself, let alone in one of their aircraft.  To make matters worse, as I prepared to leave the meeting, the Dean stated that in all his time as a flight instructor, I was the worst pilot he had ever witnessed.  Noted.

Mom remarried sometime around this point of time and with the new husband came the new kids.  They were about the same age as my sister and I so the expectation was that we would get along well.  And we did…at least to each other’s faces.  My new stepbrother was a straight ‘A’, top-notch student type, with a full-ride scholarship to college right out of high school.  He was gung-ho about being in the US Army like his father and as such, had signed on for a 4-year Army ROTC scholarship at the University of Tennessee.  When school was completed, his aim was to become an Army Ranger and an all-around bad ass (I only know this because he frequently mentioned it in EVERY conversation that we had).  Even with all of my years as an Army brat, I had no clue as to what a ‘Ranger’ was.  Whenever my stepbrother stated his career goal, an image of Yogi-Bear being chased by Ranger Rick came to mind. And I was most definitely not interested in that.  It is probably needless to say that my stepbrother and I had very little in common.

A month after the parent’s wedding I received a random phone call from my mother, sometime in the late evening.  Her anger was thinly veiled behind tears as she berated me from the get-go on my current choices in life and the direction that I was headed.  Apparently, a little bird (namely my step-brother) mentioned in passing conversation to my parents about what a hard partier I was and how he could not imagine doing some of the things that I did.  This comment alone was enough to send my mother into the mad frenzy she was in and to question my activities and values.  The final piece of our phone conversation was on how my stepbrother was the shining image of what a perfect son should be and how I should strive to be more like him.

I was livid.  How was it that this new guy could come waltzing into my life and steal away my hard-earned title of ‘darling’?  I had been pulling the wool over my mother’s eyes for so many years long I did not know how to respond when I was finally being called out on it.  I plotted for days on how I would earn her trust back (and in by doing so get back my title of ‘favorite child’).    In the end, I did what any sane being in my shoes and not thinking clearly would do.  Without telling anyone my plan, I applied to the same school and scholarship that my stepbrother had.

My interview for the Army 4-year scholarship should probably not have been so simple.  Though I was nervous when I first arrived for my appointment, after sizing up the person that was to interview me, I quickly realized just how easy I was about to have it.  The Lieutenant assigned to my interview was a few years older and about as excited as I was to be there.  I did my best to distract him with various stories of my extracurricular activities in high school such as marching band, team sports, and film acting, hoping he would not notice the sub-par grades I earned in my mandatory courses.  The Lieutenant had also been in the marching band in high school and was very much interested in acting in film.  In fact, he was even so kind as to provide me with both his headshot and resume in case I happened upon an acting role he might be suited for.  I had this cat in the bag.

When I made the announcement that I had been accepted by both the University of Tennessee AND the Army ROTC program on a full scholarship, my family was stunned (just the reaction I was going for).  They pelted me with questions as to my motives, to which I assured them I had only matured and come to my senses in the direction for my life.

“Are you sure?” my stepfather asked one day.

Image via Wikipedia

“Of course!  Why would I not be?” I returned (in my best attempt to sound incredulous).

“I don’t know,” he responded.  “Maybe because until now you’ve been very explicit on your thoughts about the military.”

I laughed off his statement, reminding him that I was a kid then and way more mature now.  I can only guess at how believable I came across.

Having spent the year before already in college, I was not new to the campus social scene, unlike many of my ROTC peers.  Therefore, I did my best to act as their experienced guide into the college realm.  In return, they kept me straight-edged and narrow, ensuring I did not get TOO wild (and that I did not sleep through my classes).  It was a good balance that allowed my new cadet buddies and I to bond quickly.  My brother on the other hand, did not feel the need to associate with our cadet class as much as I.  A few of his high school classmates were also going to Tennessee so he took to spending most of his free time with them instead.  Every once in a while, my stepbrother would come out with our military group and socialize for a day or so, before venturing back to his own crowd.

The military world of ‘cadet-land’ was a total surprise to me.  I had convinced myself years ago that my rebellious nature would never work in such a rigid environment.  I could not dream of ever allowing someone to berate me while I stood at attention, forced to take it in quiet acquiescence.  But what I was quickly learning from my experiences was that the military was nothing like I had imagined.  Yes, there was a code of conduct based on a ranking order, but I found it allowed for meaningful conversations no matter what one’s rank.  There was no confusion as to who would lead in decision-making or action.  That was decided by on the ranking structure built upon meritorious service and earned experience.  But it did not mean that everyone involved would not play a significant part.  In fact, the leadership structure seemed to streamline the decision-making process by adjoining the best of what everyone involved had to offer. And from this, one could rise rapidly in respect and prestige by both adhering to tasks AND applying leadership.  My old rhetoric had turned upon itself, unable to withstand the fact that I might appreciate the structure of an organization I had been so against.   From that moment on I decided I would do everything in my power to be the best.  Besides, I had a stepbrother to beat out, right?

Freshman year flew by.  I ended the year with a tight-knit group of friends with similar goals and with the realization that the Army may not be what I expected.  Having come into the ROTC program in not the best of shape and not at all career oriented, a few PT sessions and pats on the back after great grades and I was in the forefront of being one of the top and upcoming cadets.  And with the friends I had bonded with right along beside me, I was surer than ever on where my life was going to take me.  It was my brother that was having his doubts.  Though we were not officially in the military yet, life as a cadet was not what he had expected.  My stepbrother no longer spoke of being the super, hardcore, Army Ranger, he had once envisioned.   Our first year of paid-by-scholarship tuition was free with no military obligation.  But the day we returned for our second year of college, all cadets would be required to sign an official contract with the Army.  From that moment forward, if one of us were to fail out of college or change our minds on serving, we would be obligated to pay back the scholarship in full OR serve as an enlisted Soldier for the amount of time owed.  Unwilling to take the risk, my brother backed out.

Junior year in the Army ROTC program requires that a cadet make their decision on whether to serve their obligated commissioned time on active duty, the National Guard, or the Reserve.  All require the same time commitment. The difference was in whether the military would be a full-time career or a requirement for a weekend drill every month for the same time period.  Going Reserve or National Guard also gave opportunities to pursue a career in the civilian sector.    At this particular time, the gloss of being the military juggernaut that I was aiming for had begun to wear off.  Not that I considered being in the Army a bad decision, but that the requirements put upon me at the time were monotonous and keeping me away from my other pursuits.  Namely, the girl I had fallen for.  It was halfway into the semester before I noticed her in my Astronomy lab.  I had stumbled into class late one day, only to realize I had left my required reading material at home.  I sat down in the seat next to her and asked if I could look onto her book.  She obliged and for the rest of the 2-hour period we were lost in conversation on various subjects (not Astronomy, unfortunately).  She had the most infectious laugh and I found myself craving more of her attention as the lab continued.  When class was over, I followed along beside her across campus, pestering her for a phone number.  My persistence paid off and we set a date for later that week.  One year later, we were planning a marriage.

It was a Thursday and I probably should have chosen another time to go into the ROTC building for paperwork.  I overslept that morning and been berated by the cadet cadre for it.  The girlfriend and I had been bickering over nonsense for the past few days.  And I had just been assigned the bullshit task of babysitting some freshman cadets on one of their field trips.  So when the time came to choose which service I was about to dedicate my life to, full-time employment with the US Army was last on my list for career choices.  It was a tough decision.  I spent the better part of an hour staring at the blank space I was to write my answer in, weighing out the constraints.  For the past 3 years of my life, I had committed myself to daily morning workouts, extra military courses, and additional duties.  While I had performed well in every area, my motivation was waning.  It did not help that my girlfriend was dead-set on her career path.  After completing her Bachelors in Urban Planning, she would continue with her Masters in the same field.  Afterward, she planned to move to Louisiana (where all the Urban Planning jobs were, apparently) for a job in the public sector.  I realized that her plan sounded a lot better than anything I could come up with and was the exit strategy I needed for escape from my doldrums life in the Army.  That was it!  I would select Army Reserve for my branch of duty and follow the girlfriend to Louisiana!  I would fulfill my weekend drill requirements with whatever unit I found while seeking a teaching job at one of the local colleges.  Fate decided, I bubbled in my selections and exited stage right for my new future.

The girlfriend and I were broken up only a few months later but it took a few more months after that to realize what the break-up really meant.  My plan for moving to Louisiana and teaching were shot.  And I was soon to join a service I neither knew nor cared anything about.  What was I to do now, career-wise?  I was graduating with a Bachelors of Science in Politics (which I loved).  The problem was, without a PhD in the field, a political scientist’s opinions mean next to nothing and good job in the craft is hard to come by.  I was at my wit’s end on what to do.  Graduation for me was not a happy moment.

I left Tennessee for my Army training a few months after graduation.  The last year of my life had been a sobering one as I was forced to come to terms with the realities presented before me.  Both the superstardom and househusband options were out.  And that meant if I was ever going to be anything, I was going to have to start from scratch and do it myself.  I devoted myself to the Army education I was receiving during the day and getting my act together at night.  From paying off debt, finally starting a savings account, to calling family members I had not spoken with in years, I was on a mission to get my life in order.  It was one of these nights that I reached a conclusion I had been denying all along: I needed the military and it was a good thing.  The military had chosen me even as the wild, rebellious child in my teens and molded me into the man I was today.  And even after I turned my back on it to look for happiness elsewhere, here I was in my rarest and best form, fully inculcated into the US Army.  I decided that night to go active duty.

I was halfway through my Army training at the Army Signal School when I received a phone call from the unit I had just been assigned to.  It was the Battalion Commander congratulating me on my educational successes and upcoming graduation from the Signal Officer Basic Course.  He also called for another reason: the unit was deploying to Iraq in a few months and was in desperate need of a Signal officer.

“What do you think?” the Battalion Commander asked me.

“To be honest sir”, I started, “I’m more interested in going active duty.  I don’t intend to be a Reservist for much longer.”

Image by gbramlet via Flickr

“But what if you don’t like it?” he responded.

I paused.  I had not thought about regretting my decision once I was in, but I had to keep in mind that it was a possibility.  I mean, I had “not liked” it before; it could happen again, right?

The Battalion Commander waited to let the words sink in before starting again. “Grant, if you deploy with my unit as our Signal officer, I will do everything in my power upon our return to make sure you go active duty.  This will give you the opportunity to try it out and if you don’t like it, fine. At least you know before you commit.”

I was sold.

Frank Walkup died a few weeks later from wounds received from an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) blast while on a dismounted patrol in Iraq.  As the leader of his unit, he felt it was important to show that officers share the same responsibilities as their subordinates.  The shared task this time was to check whether or not a piece of debris on the road was actually an IED.  According to the rotational order he included himself on, it was Walkup’s turn.  The object was an IED.  Walkup’s death was a shock to my tight-knit group of friends.  Until then, none of us had any real exposure to the deaths of friends and loved ones on the battlefield.  Walkup had been one of the best positive motivators in our crowd.  A year ahead of most of us in the ROTC program, he went out of his way to encourage us to always do better.  I remember times when he would finish smoking a cigarette he had lit a few minutes before and then lap us on the track as we struggled to keep up.  He was smart, kind, and gave a damn about his comrades and his duty.  I will always remember Frank Walkup and the profound effect he had on me towards the military.

I think my reoccurring lesson in life is that nothing is ever what I expect it to be.  Before deploying, the thought of being in a Middle Eastern nation (let alone a war-ravaged one) was daunting.  My first few weeks in Iraq, I scurried to cover after hearing any sort of loud noise.  And I was much too afraid to even think about adventuring off of the base like other Soldiers.  Quick walks to the nearby dining facility were enough of an excursion for me.  My communications section consisted of 9 Soldiers including myself.  6 of them were barely out of high school and under my care.  The other 2 were more than twice my age…and under my care.  Somehow, I earned their respect as leader (though I am sure I fumbled through my first few months).  Together, we burned hour after hour of midnight oil to learn the various communications systems used in theater and the intricacies of military operations.  Before long, we were functioning like a well-oiled machine.  Our days consisted of managing the computer networks of over a thousand Soldiers, encrypting radios for use outside the ‘wire’, and wiring and connecting buildings with communications capabilities that we occupied on the base.  I was again hit with the revelation that I was nowhere close to the life I had dreamt up for myself, yet here I was having the best time of my life!

A few months into my deployment, I learned that Darryn Andrews, a Lieutenant I had trained with only months before, had died from wounds received from small arms fire while in combat with militants in Afghanistan.  Andrews was an asshole through and through but I liked him for it.  When I first arrived to Fort Benning for my military training (shortly after college), I was dismissed by most in my platoon as a tool.  My beret was not shaved down as required, my uniform was ill-fitting from coming right off the racks, and my boots were already scuffed up.  Unlike the others, Andrews took the time to mentor me on being a good officer (and not looking so jacked up).  For that (and unlike the others), I was willing to forgive him when his slights and critiques were sometimes a bit too harsh.  When I met Andrews, he was returning to the Army as an officer, having served as an enlisted Infantryman years before.  Before his arrival at our military training, he taught high school math in Texas to students who adored him and would call just to talk, years later.  I remember Andrews brought his newborn baby boy and wife to Fort Benning with him, not knowing where else to put them while he trained.  The loss of Andrews was the loss of a friend to me and a loss of an asset to the Army.

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The year in Iraq seemed to pass by overnight and yet my team had done so much!  By the end of the tour, my Soldiers and I were not only doing our regular jobs, but also training the Iraqis to do the same.  I was now not only venturing forth into the Iraqi countryside, I was spanning the entire nation, from Syria to Iran, Turkey to Kuwait.  My Soldiers were a well-respected team throughout the military bases, known as the ‘go-to’ guys for any communications support.  As for myself, I had grown not only as an officer in the United States military, but also as an adult man making adult decisions.  I was debt-free, world travelled, and well experienced in my field craft.  Deploying to Iraq not only reaffirmed my decision to serve my country, full-time, it confirmed for me what I had somehow innately known all along: the military was in my blood.

In my transfer over from the Army Reserve service to the active duty side, I cannot help but to look back at where the past few years have taken me.  From a stubborn teenager bent on escaping the reach of the military to a college kid unsure of his direction, to an Army officer in the best military the world has ever seen, I can only think, “what a ride!”  I look forward to my continued service with the US military.  The honor and respect that this career field holds is well deserved.  Every morning, the American Soldier wakes up and makes the decision to serve his country and that his/her life is worth the sacrifice for a greater good.  As we win the conflicts of Iraq and Afghanistan, many of those great men and women do ultimately make that sacrifice.  And too few of the American people fully realize just how much of a price our Soldiers have to pay.  As I grow in my own maturity and the wisdom that comes with age, I value every second that I get to stand proud and should-to-shoulder, with truly the greatest Americans I have ever known.

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Shit, I thought to myself. These guys don’t even know that I’m coming.

During my trek across the world, I met other Soldiers in similar situations as I was.  We quickly banded together, trading information to see if we could glean anything from our combined intelligence.  Together, we were a ragtag of Reserve and National Guard E5s to Full-Bird Colonels, managing to somehow work together well enough to secure flights to our final destination.  Someone in the group happened to have a phone number to a guy at the 101st, which was enough to warn them of our pending arrival.

The air was hot and dry as our plane touched down at Bagram Air Field.  Having spent the year before in Iraq on another deployment, I was familiar with the summer climates of Central Asia.  This time around, I had been talked into drawing even more military equipment than necessary (during mobilization) and was now lugging 6 heavy, duffle bags wherever I went.  I kicked myself for ever taking the advice of someone who sat behind a desk at the issuing center and had never actually been to Afghanistan.  But hey, I was impressionable.  Walking out of the terminal, my ragtag group of part-time Soldiers was greeted by an enlisted NCO from the Headquarters Battalion.  He had been tasked to find us bedding for the night and knew about as much as we did about our arrival.  Thus, he could only provide information such as the location of the nearest dining facility (DFAC).  Placing our bags into the bed of his truck and then squeezing into the front, we made our way over to the temporary holding tents named Dragon.  The tents can best be described as insulated tarp huts, with large fans for air conditioning, and packed full with Soldiers on their way in or out of Bagram.  After signing in, I slung my stuff on my bunk and made my way to the closest shower, sure that after a weekend of not bathing, my uniform was now grafted to my skin.

Sometime in the early afternoon of the next day, the same NCO that picked us up the evening before came back with more information.  As suspected, no one in the 101st was aware of our arrival.  This meant that we would be forced to sit and wait while the decision was made on what to do with us.  Unlike me, most in the group did not have assigned duty positions and were clueless as to where they might go.  Rumor had it, that due to the influx of American Soldiers in the Surge, “higher” was sending home any additional troops that were considered overflow.  I admit I toyed with the idea of heading home after only having been in country a few days.  I was home for only 45 days after leaving Iraq and spent most of those days travelling the world and partying.  As such, I was now flat broke and probably needed to stay at least for money purposes.  The enlisted Soldier stated that it would be 3 days before we would be provided with any further information.  In the meantime, we were to complete the mandatory training requirements of rolling around in simulated MRAP vehicles(think Tycho PowerWheels but the size of a Transformer), and firing our weapons out towards an empty field to ensure they still worked…you know, because we had used them so frequently since landing…Those days could not have dragged on more.

On Day 3, we were escorted into the 101st Airborne Headquarters (called the JOC) to receive our duty assignments.  The 101st Division is titled the CJTF-101 while in Afghanistan, or Combined Joint Task Force, in reference to the Division’s command (and partnership) over non-US entities in the region (it took me awhile to remember all of this, so don’t fret if you’re confused by any of this).  One-by-one, we filed into the CJ1 (Combined-Joint) section to receive our job assignment from the Chief Warrant in charge.  I sauntered in self-assured like, convinced that I knew what my job was, having memorized the description of duties when I first volunteered.  According to this description, I would be working in Kabul as the liaison for the 82nd to other NATO countries, ensuring that all networked computer systems could communicate with each other.  At this point, it should have been no surprise that this particular position was already filled and I was going to be placed elsewhere.  Instead, I was to report to the Division Intelligence area, where I would be assigned a desk and given a menial task (they really did not have much to offer since the good jobs were taken).  With that, I was whisked into the JOC Compound to start my new life with the CJTF-101.

My time within the CJ2 Division Intelligence section can be best described as short-lived.  Though everyone there was polite and courteous, the fact that I did not have a high enough security clearance for most of the systems I was supposed to work on meant I was a problem child.  This meant that I would either need an escort anytime that I worked in the office, or that things were just not going to work out there…I’m sure you can guess which option was chosen.

I am a Signal Officer…by military standards, at least.  I chose Signal branch while in college because I somehow thought it related to the massive amounts of video games I played, as a child.  Seeing how I liked reading about new technology and gadgets, I figured I would do well with the nerdy stuff in the Army!  This thought process could probably not be further from the truth.  On the first day of class at the Army’s Signal Officer Basic Course in Ft. Gordon, GA, I was inundated with mathematical equations, theories of wave propagation, and technicalities of spectrum analysis, none of which I had even heard of.  When we were required to introduce ourselves before speaking, I would include a brief statement on my lack of education or experience in the Signal field, concluding that I should be forgiven for any mistakes made, ahead of time.  It did not help that other than 3 recent college grads like me, the other 55 classmates were prior service enlisted from the Signal branch.  Oh yeah, and they had Bachelor’s degrees in Computer Science or Information Systems.  Mine was in Political Science.

After my dismissal from the CJ2 section, I was escorted over to the CJ6 section, or Communications Department (home sweet home, no?).  They too, were not thrilled with my unexpected arrival.  I was placed in a Conference Room for an hour or so, as they debated what to do with me.  I can only imagine how that conversation went.  After an hour, I found myself being job-interviewed by the section Sergeant Major.  I have great respect for enlisted personnel, especially those with both years of service and time in grade.  Enlisted Soldiers are truly the backbone of the US military, doing a job that most officers would refuse.  The ability to learn a skill is difficult enough on its own.  To be given the responsibility of ensuring ALL Soldiers are equally trained, along with the supervision of their overall wellbeing (and of their families), is a duty most Americans would balk at.  But as an officer, I fall under a different chain-of-command system than our enlisted personnel.  That being said, I was a little confused as to why I was being interviewed by someone who I had no real professional interaction with.  But being the new guy and still in shock from the change in environment, I decided against raising the issue.

In Iraq, I worked as the Battalion S6, or Communications Director, for a Combat Engineer unit located in Baghdad.  We arrived in the middle of the post-Surge massive drawdown, finding ourselves turning in equipment for use elsewhere (like Afghanistan) on a constant basis.  Eventually, we could no longer complete construction missions without pooling our resources.  In order to compensate with the decrease in work, we took on the task of training Iraqi Engineer units in construction methods used by the US.  This proved a huge success and soon we were training the Iraqi military in areas such as First Aid and Computer Science (this is where I came in).  The latter part of my Iraq tour consisted of flying via helicopter from FOB (Forward Operating Base) to FOB with my Soldiers, conducting classes on radio communications, network systems, and…Microsoft Office (don’t ask).  This training also included the task of wiring the Iraqi buildings for intranet usage.  And it was that last piece of information that the 101st CJ6 guys latched on to.

I was afterwards assigned to the 101st CJ6 Projects Section, a small cell of 3 guys (including me) tasked with tracking and supervising large-scale telecommunications projects across the eastern region of Afghanistan.  Sounds like a big deal, right?  And maybe it really is.  But it’s also extremely boring!  The job consisted of one weekly meeting where I was to update the CJ6 Director on the progress of projects that were months or years away.  That was it.  Most times during a meeting, I would stand up for my part of the brief and state, “Yes, the project is still scheduled to be completed on this date.”  I would then go back to trying my best to stay busy for the rest of the day.  But the keeping busy part was probably the most difficult.  There were only so many hours a day that I could work out, browse the internet, or play video games.  Within a month of arriving, I was miserable and regretting my decision to deploy.  I even took to fixing up my hooch into the ultimate bachelor pad (which was pretty bad ass, I might add).

I waited a few more weeks before taking my complaints of boredom to the CJ6 Director.  Somewhat embarrassed that I had set up an office call for the purpose of whining, I explained that though I was excited to be with the 101st, I felt useless and unnecessary.  Having given up on any chance of playing a huge role or exerting any influence, I asked what the possibility was of going home early.  But the CJ6 had taken note of my lack of duties and instead, had a better idea.  Recently, the 101st Command Group had been having issues with their VTCs (Video Teleconferences) and voicing their complaints to the CJ6 for weeks.  Though a few personnel were already thrown at the situation, several of the Generals felt bad taking out their annoyances on lower enlisted personnel.  My job, were I to accept it, was to set up the meetings (sound/video checks, making sure PowerPoint slides were good to go) beforehand, then to sit in the meetings in case there were any technical difficulties.  Was it a job requiring little brain power?  Sure.  But it at least gave me something to do.

The 101st Command Group was made up of several General officers, the Command Sergeant Major (CSM), and the Chief of Staff, each with individual meetings and calendars that needed coordination.  Thankfully, the list of different schedules kept me preoccupied throughout most of the day.  I would show up beforehand, do my checks, and then sit or stand in the corner for the next hour as each leader discussed their operations and plans.  It was all very exciting to see the game changers at work.  In Iraq, I had wondered who these “higher-ups” were that made the demands the rest of us were forced to follow.  To see those people plan and task was exactly the experience I was hoping to get out of the deployment.  The only problem was that being the proverbial fly on the wall eventually gets old too.  As awesome of an experience that I was observing, it was just that: observing.  I was still craving some sort of participation in the great game, some feeling of need that was still not being validated.   I was now rubbing elbows with the big wigs and reminded even more of how insignificant I was.

I got fairly good at the tasks given to me.  And since enabling the Command group the ability to talk was deemed more important than my previous job of telecommunications projects, the VTC coordination thing became my full-time job.  Most of the problems that occurred in the meetings were due to some technical issue on the distant end, so I learned who to quickly call to fix it.  Not sure if that constitutes as a skill but I was still getting credit for it.  The new job also allowed me the free time to continue my…well…bullshit.  I went to the gym every day, shopped for pirated DVDs at the local market, and played my growing collection of video games.  When I first moved out of the transient tents (Dragon), I transferred over to a wooden bay meant for 6 Soldiers.  I say meant because there were 6 bunks and only me to fill them.  Alone, I took the opportunity of using every available space to truly enjoy my living area.  The bay had been a good mile in distance from the JOC compound.  But with the new job, I was required to move to the compound, into the cluster of freestanding buildings that housed two to a room (think shipping container but with a door and air conditioner).  Now, if there happened to be any last-minute teleconferences, I would be readily accessible to set the up meeting and not the mile away.  The moving to the compound did not elevate my status, but with everyone vying for a room there, I at least felt special.

Life like this didn’t change until mid-August.  I had the VTC job down well enough that I could have done it blindfolded.  From the strict dieting and exercise I had started, I was back to by pre-summer body (from working out twice a day in Iraq).  Looking past my redeployment, I began spending time studying for a GRE test that was scheduled for later in the month.  It was one of these mornings during my normal routine of sound checks, that I was interrupted from my work by the 101st SGS (Secretary to General Staff), Major Shinkle.  I was already not the biggest fan of Major Shinkle due to his setting me down at the start of my new assignment and in better terms, explaining to me how frivolous my job was and that the only real reason for being there was to cover for the CJ6’s ass.  From that moment on, I avoided him at all costs.  So you can imagine how thrilled I was when he had cornered me into conversation.

“Is this all you do?” he asked.

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Unsure on how much honesty I could get away with, I stuck with the truth. “Yes sir, this is about it.”

He seemed to ponder for a minute, then snorted, “Bring your OERs in tomorrow morning for a meeting with the Chief.”

And with that, he was off to terrorize the rest of the staff.

I was visibly shaken.  Not only had my arch nemesis called me out, but I was being summoned to the office of the 101st Division Chief of Staff, Colonel Johnson.  And for what?!  I had sat in enough meetings to see this guy in action.  Tall, brash, and extremely intelligent, Colonel Johnson could bring a man to tears after only a few moments of his searing criticisms.  I was scared, shitless.

The CJ6 was inaccessible most of the time so I became accustomed to running to his Deputy, Major Miles whenever I had any problems.  Major Miles was both bright and affable, and the “go-to” guy for many of the staff.  I am sure I frequented his desk way too many times, but he was the only one willing to help out a peon officer not really part of the 101st Airborne.  After the morning meeting was over, I sprinted down to his office to seek advice and protection.  But to my surprise, he was aware of the conversation and had been told not to say anything.  I was stunned.  Was I being punished for not taking on more responsibility?  I guess I could have asked for more menial tasks, but even those were hard to obtain in a place like this.  Had the Command Group heard word that I had deployed to Iraq before coming here?  I knew General Campbell was a stickler on Soldiers keeping to a one year dwell time in the US.  Wanting to ensure Soldiers spent enough time with family, friends, and in a safe environment, he had mandated that all of his Soldiers stay in the US a minimum of 365 days before redeploying.  Did that apply to me as well?  I mean, I was not even part of the 101st!  I didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, I arrived at the Command Group office 20 minutes early.  I made sure to change uniforms, shave with my newest razor, and brushed my teeth twice.  In my limited career with the Army, I had received only 2 evaluations, or OERs.  I was sure to bring the crispest copies.  My OERs so far were phenomenal for someone of my pay and grade.  So whatever I had coming my way, I was hoping this information would soften the blow.  As I sat waiting, staff member after staff member trickled into the Chief of Staff’s office, all vying for attention and approval.  In no time at all, it was 15 minutes after and there was still a line of 5 staff officers waiting to see him.  Though his desk was in the same room as where I sat waiting, Major Shinkle completely ignored me.  His Deputy, a female Captain, seemed to take pity upon me and excusing herself through the wall of waiting officers, placed me next to the door, in front of the line to see the Chief.  I apologized to the staff officers as I passed them and stood at the door, fidgeting.  Only a few minutes passed before Colonel Johnson’s massive frame appeared in the doorway, ready to take on the next victim…er, I mean person.  The female Captain who had assisted me before, gave a quick introduction, ushered me into the office, and then left, closing the door behind her.

Great, I thought.  Now they won’t hear my screams.

Colonel Johnson signaled for me to sit in the chair across from him before taking a seat himself.  I blurted out a jumbled introduction before offering up my OERs to him.  Without any conversation, he picked up the OERs and began browsing them for what I assumed was for proof that I was a dirt-bag Lieutenant.  As minutes of silence passed and he continued to peruse my professional history, I rehearsed in my head the different rebuttals I had prepared for myself.  I was not sure what I would have to justify but I was going to be ready.  The silence went on for so long, the Chief of Staff startled me when he finally spoke.

“So you think you’re the man for the job, huh?”

I was speechless.  I searched my mind for some sort of clue as to what he could be talking about

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“Sir,“ I paused, carefully choosing my words. “What job are you talking about?”

“As the new Deputy SGS,” he replied, giving me a perplexing look, “replacing Captain Putnam.”

He was referring to the female Captain that had helped me before, Putnam.  I did not know anything about her other than my brief contact from earlier, but I recovered quickly.

“Uh, yes sir, I believe I’m just the right person for the position….”

I do not remember much of the conversation beyond the first part, probably due to my nervousness and the focus on not pissing myself.  But by the end of the “interview”, I realized that I had been wrong about Colonel Johnson and that he was a nicer guy than I assumed.  With the interview over, I left Colonel Johnson’s office and headed back down to mine.  So I was not going home…

It was almost a week before I received word on whether I was selected for the position.  By word, I mean a sharp rap at the door of my room one morning, an enlisted Soldier from Command telling me I was to report to Major Shinkle, immediately.  I threw on my uniform and hurried up to the Command area to where both Major Shinkle and Captain Putnam were waiting.   Entering the office, Major Shinkle gave a silent nod of greeting and went back to burying his face in his computer, working.  Captain Putnam on the other hand, was boisterously cheery and ready to teach me everything I was to know.  Once I was trained, she would be departing for another job she had been selected for, far away from the Command Group.

No wonder she is happy, I thought to myself.

We went over simple topics such as who the staff section leaders were and where key offices were located, how to schedule office calls for a General Officer, and the purchasing of materials that Command requested.  Most of the duties seemed miniscule and unimportant, but the fear of suffering the wrath of a General officer made failure a non-option.  I learned most of the simple stuff almost immediately.  What seemed more daunting was knowing where and how to access the different resources I might be called upon to use.  Who would I talk to when a certain briefing was requested?  Who would need to be notified if an event happened?  How would I go about doing a specific task if I lacked other requirements?  I was afraid to take the lead after failing in my first few attempts at being the new Deputy.  Luckily, Captain Putnam left within a few days and I was forced to learn in the best possible way: by trial and error.

It did not take long to adjust from a schedule of having free time most of the day to barely having time to eat and shower before the onslaught of the next day.  If you have ever wondered what it was like in the office area of an Army General, imagine a beehive that has been shaken.  Being the traffic controller in a flow of officers that outrank me by several years is stressful.  But the added answering of all phone calls, scheduling of meetings, supervising of subordinates, and instant memo producing had me pulling my hair out.  Major Shinkle had been at his job for over a year.  Not only did he have all the answers, but he knew everyone.  I was secretly jealous of his cool, calm collective, even with his sarcastic wit.  Sensing my frustration, he would sometimes walk over to my desk to provide bits of advice, in between his harsh critiques of my performance.  I took it as him finally warming to me.

This barely keeping my head above water in my new job kept up like this for another 2 months.  I had completely shirked my dedication to the gym and my alone time was now sleep time.  It was November when I finally looked up from my desk and was able to take it all in.  No longer was coordinating a Purple Heart ceremony a violent maelstrom in my already hectic day.  I could schedule events and banter back and forth with foreign dignitaries without fear of tripping up on my words or stuttering.  I had accomplished what I thought was the unthinkable, successfully learning a job that had meaning.

With the proficiency in my job, time continued to fly by and my deployment was finally coming to an end.  And only at the end was I able to reflect on my time with the leadership of the 101st Airborne, probably the best Army unit in the US military.  During my first few months, each of the Generals seemed like shadows of who they really were.  Their dedication to the mission in Afghanistan kept them traversing the country on a near, daily basis.  I was too afraid to attempt any conversation with them at first; I was the new guy, a reservist not really affiliated with them, and at the bottom of the military food chain in rank.  But every one of them surprised me with their unique but friendly demeanor and the career experiences they were willing to share.  Sure, they would tear your heart out and eat it if you briefed them bullshit, but their dedication to the success of the 101st Soldiers was so contagious, it became hard to accept failure, even for myself.

My deployment draws to an end and I find myself prematurely missing the people in the Command Group that I have come to know so well while here in Afghanistan.  The overall mission for this nation is a daunting task.  So many times did it seem that for every few steps forward we would be forced one step back.  But is that not how life works in any situation?  Do we not enjoy the highest of highs only because we can recognize and pull through the lowest of lows?  These are the lessons I learned while walking with the pinnacle of US Army leadership and the forefront of the fight.  I can only guess as to the stress each General felt on a daily basis: making the required decision to send a Soldier out on a life-risking mission, or to deal with the tragic loss of that Soldier while in combat.  These are the heroes I read about as I child, wanting them to be real.  The same heroes that I doubted existed when older, unwilling to believe that a common man would sacrifice so much of their life, time, and personal well-being, not only for the life of another, but for their country.   The American leaders in Afghanistan bear a burden that no one but them will truly, ever understand.  I can only hope that I too, can one day display the courage and heart that the leaders of the unit known as the Screaming Eagles did, while facing uncertainty and risk of death.

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The 38-page report comes just 3 months before President Obama is to announce the pace of scheduled withdrawal by US forces.  Complete withdrawal of US forces is tentatively set for 2014, based on regular assessments of progress and security.  This date does not account for any troops remaining on ground purposes of continued training and sustainment (much like Iraq).  Many of the additional 30,000 troops sent to Afghanistan last year during the Surge are expected to begin redeploying at the beginning of this summer.  Some without replacement.

The positive impact of last year’s Surge of forces is just beginning to reveal itself (I can personally attest to this progression of positive influence as I have observed these changes from within country).  Initial transition of the security and protection of districts is set to begin in the upcoming weeks from International Security Forces to the Afghan military.  Commerce and trade between Afghanistan and Pakistan alone last year was at a reported $5 billion and expected to continue in growth next year.  And if concurrent stabilization efforts continue to progress at their rapid pace, by 2014, every province will have access to consistent electrical power, clean water, and to the national highway system.

Frequent reports of internal rifts between Pakistan and Afghanistan Taliban have emerged, as insurgents have taken a beating from focused action from the West, along the Afghan border.  With quality and standards of living improving for almost all Afghans, Taliban fighters are increasingly reluctant to return to the fight, even as their Pakistan counterparts demand for more attacks from their own safe havens.  The combination of repeated defeats by allied forces and their infighting has even caused several thousands of Afghan Taliban fighters to seek reintegration into the Afghan government.  This requires that they swear allegiance to the government with the promise of never rebelling again (along with the confiscation of any weapons they had used).

Pakistan, on the other hand, has failed three times in the past two years to secure active insurgent areas in the Northwestern Territories such as Mohmand, through military action.  Reluctant to allow US forces to work openly within their borders, Pakistan officials refuse offers for Western logistical assistance like helicopter maintenance, even when their military fleet is out of service for months on end.  Fear that Pakistani military gains in the northwestern territories were lost after massive flooding last year, proved a boon for the Pakistan government instead, as they won the hearts and minds of tribesmen through fast response in aid.  But they failed to use the momentum to secure ground within the territories and quickly retreated back, afterwards.  Pakistan continues to obsess over an unfounded threat of attack from India, dedicating most of their military resources to this fear when the threat just does not exist.  Currently, their modus operandi in the Afghan-Pakistan border area seems to be more of calling for aerial attacks on insurgents by the US in private, then howling non-concurrence and retribution in public and media.  Any real attempt to halt cross-border insurgent traffic is minimal.  Any why would they bother?  Pakistan continually attempts to play puppet master for the Taliban for personal use, not realizing the destabilizing effect this is having on their own government.

Until the underlying issues in Pakistan are resolved, Afghanistan will never truly be where we want it to be.  If it were possible to separate the two, the US mission would have long ago been achieved.  Instead, we’re forced to combat a regional issue in a single state.  A state that even with its own flawed government, lack of basic resources, fragmented population, and coercive neighbors,

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has managed to attain a level of nationhood its citizens have never witnessed in their lifetimes.  The Obama Administration is coming to the realization that the true threat lies in Pakistan.  Remaining in Afghanistan until stabilization is ensured should continue to be a main priority, but the US should no longer use a loose strategy of throwing money at Pakistan’s problems in hopes that they will fix themselves.  President Obama and his staff eventually have to better determine their options in dealing with Pakistan and its active insurgents.  No one ever chopped firewood by beating the ground around the tree.

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withdrawal), foreign investment means faster implementation and results.  Agriculture alone though, is not a cure-all for stability, especially in an area where poppy sells at a higher price than any grown food source.  Once crops are raised, they require storage, transport, and a market to sell them in order for the farmers to profit.  Therefore, increased funding on national infrastructure projects such as roads, power, and clean water, are a priority in the overall, international strategy.  By 2014, most provincial centers will have access to continuous power sources (if not a national power grid), paved roads or highways, and clean water facilities; the hope being that the projects will open up Afghan markets to slew of foreign trade markets.  The ending effect, of course, is a profitable country with renewable resources, steady income for a majority of the population, and increased education levels from business in trade and foreign immersion.  But before any of this, it all goes back to the West’s plan on agriculture.

Howard Warren Buffett, or “Howie”, the grandson of mogul Warren Buffett, is the Director for Agricultural Development for a Department of Defense Task Force designated to provide business development opportunities and stabilization in areas of unrest, outside the US.  Created in 2006 as a means of decreasing insurgent activity through economic capability, the Task Force is led by Paul Brinkley, the Deputy Undersecretary of Defense.  By travelling to Bamyan Province in Afghanistan, Howie came in search of a viable option for rapid economic growth in agriculture through outside investment.  Unbeknownst to me (until this week’s trip), Mr. Buffett has a strong history in agricultural science.  The Buffett family maintains over a thousand acres of farmland for marketable crops and  another hundred specifically for research in sustainable and environmentally friendly farming.  Before joining onto Brinkley’s Task Force, Buffett also served as the Special Assistant in the Office of the Secretary for the Department of Agriculture.  There, he worked to expand external partnerships in education, research, and economics.

In Bamyan, a relatively safe province in the eastern portion of Afghanistan, farmers grow a variety of potatoes for self-sustainment and trade.  Most of these farms are tiny plots of land, where families maintain separate acreage but share the responsibility of maintenance.  Though Bamyan has become increasingly profitable in trade and tourism (Bamyan is the location of the 200 ft. Buddhas carved into a cliff face, destroyed by the Taliban in 2001), an estimated 20% of the crops grown are lost each season due to poor storage facilities.  Another 20% is lost by the end of the season due the inability to transport goods to larger markets.  Though rail, highway, and airport facilities are in their planning stages for the Bamyan province, these projects are years away, leaving farmers in subsistent conditions until such time.

During Mr. Buffett’s trip, he met with the provincial leader Habibi Sorabi, Afghanistan’s first and only female governor.  Together they discussed efforts to increase foreign tourism profits and the sizeable expansion of the province’s only airport runway.   Buffett believes that the quickest way to a stable and sustainable government, is by strong investment in local infrastructure and increased opportunity in education and wealth.  Conversation on the status of available schools, especially for females, also revealed that by next year, the participating number of girls in the provincial education system will match that of boys.  After the Taliban’s rise in the 1990’s, girl’s schools were closed by the thousands, seen as wasteful and sinful.  Only in recent years and under protection of both Afghani and US militaries have girl’s school been able to reopen and thrive.

Before our return to Kabul, Mr. Buffett and I had the opportunity to meet with several of the farmers “Howie” intended to help.  Most of the local population speak conversational English having received somewhat of an education for years from the New Zealand governmental team that resides there for support. Though they took enjoyment in our inability to operate basic farming equipment such as the yoke placed on two oxen, they more than willing to share their opinions (and tea) on the current situation, both locally and nationally.  Many of the farmers had returned to Afghanistan in recent years after having fled the country during the Taliban’s reign.  Uncertainty of the future remained an issue for many, but they were also hopeful in the progress they were seeing.  They were also eager in their desire to regain national self-reliance and end the constant warfare that had occurred for the past three decades.  While they were grateful for the US and it’s allies presence, the overwhelming desire for peaceful independence was evident in their comments.

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I parted ways with Mr. Buffett later that day in Kabul.  His team would continue on to western Afghanistan to identify other economic projects for stabilization and growth in the region.   Afterwards, they’ll travel to Iraq to find similar initiatives in another war-torn country.  I went back to my post at Bagram but left with the impression that these self-sustainment projects are the true keys to success for Afghanistan and the West.  And with enough dedicated resources and continued leaders such as Howie Buffett, we can end the current regional conflict and in turn, ensure the security of the US and it’s citizens.

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A recent news release identifying California-based security firm Ntrepid as the winner of a US Central Command (CENTCOM) contract for ‘fake’ social profiles, has raised concerns of privacy issues for many US citizens.  The $2.76 million contract will give select Department of Defense (DOD) personnel the ability to create online personas that match their regional area in order to infiltrate online, insurgent social networks.  Recent focused targeting on terrorist networks by the West has caused many insurgent organizations to use social internet forums as their means to recruit, plan, and disseminate information.  This ‘online insurgency’ has made it difficult for Western officials to track and locate members of these networks, their true identities now hidden behind fake avatars and descriptions.  In order to curtail the use of online propaganda and recruitment, US DoD officials have sought ways to track these social sites as they appear.  The US military’s previous attempts to infiltrate these sites have led to insurgent groups to secure their forums, using passwords and allowing entry by invitation only, making them harder to gain access.  With Ntrepid’s software, officials will gain easier access into these networks, helping eliminate online, terrorist safe havens.

Public outcry on Intrepid/DoD contract is from an unfounded fear that military personnel will use the new software capability on US citizens, or as a means of spying on them.  This is a ridiculous notion.  FBI officials have used this same technology for years in order to catch drug traders, criminals, and child molesters, with barely a peep from the public.  And this on actual US citizens!  The Department of Defense has restrictions on the use of military tactics, technology, and personnel on American citizens, which it adheres to, almost feverishly.  One can look to this past February when the notorious Rolling Stones writer, Michael Hastings, failed in his attempt to depict US LTG Caldwell as using Psychological Operations on visiting congressional delegates.  The military was quick to provide evidence that such operations are forbidden on US citizens by law and that their track record was clean.

Yet other official organizations such as the FBI HAVE used this same capability on US citizens, with little or no fuss.

Remember the popular NBC show, “To Catch a Predator?”  This was nothing more than a televised showing of FBI personnel using fake online profiles to catch American adults preying on underage children.  By providing false descriptive data like age, sex, and photos, to unaware predators, NBC (working with the FBI) was able to provide a regularly occurring (and popular) TV broadcast of the targeting of US citizens.  But the use of this same type software capability by the Department of Defense is suddenly a threat on American natural rights?  If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black…

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To be clear, there are specific Federal laws that protect US citizens from coercion, abuse, or attacks by military personnel.  Many of these rules are not available to the public in order to protect civilians from the certain few who would attempt to bend these rules yet attempt to remain within safe boundary, if known.  It is my belief that the military should use whatever means necessary to protect American citizens from the threat of outside terrorist organizations.  Up until recently, little resources or attention have been applied to the online insurgent network, allowing it to grow into the threatening force it is presently.  Evidence of this prevalence of anti-Western sentiment and threat can even be found on some of the most popular social networking sites out today.  YouTube has come under scrutiny for not blocking the uploading of terrorist videos depicting violence against Americans and calls for a global Jihad.  In fact, YouTube, Facebook, and Google, have had to reevaluate their neutral clauses in order to protect their users from growing threats and avoiding government investigation.  Without some sort of enforcement by the West on social media sites, the possibility of another terrorist attack on American soil only multiplies.

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tsunami, which is reported to have claimed the lives of over 10,000 Japanese citizens and displacing  thousands more.  In order to mitigate the immediate risks of inflation and keep a strong currency from slowing rebuild efforts, the G7 nations have united to expedite the sell of massive quantities of yen.  In time, and with the aid of the rest of the world, Japan will build back to it’s super-power state.

BUT –I’m not writing to recognize the trials and tribulations of Japan and its people, or how Japan’s allies aid them.  My concern is that Japan’s sudden loss in economic output will allow the looming China economy to pervade more quickly in its move for dominance.  While China continues to state that it seeks a peaceful rise in economical affluence and power, its policies and actions have shown different.  And with the Japan’s rapid decrease in commerce, the requirement for goods once provided by Japan will soon be enveloped by China’s eager spread.  Few have yet to realize just how much a barrier Japan provided in China’s outward growth towards the West.  With that barrier now gone, there is nothing holding China back.

In ranking order, the US still remains the dominant economic power (and from this economic might, the dominant military power as well) in the world at over $14.72 trillion in GDP.  China follows after with $9.872 trillion in purchasing power, having surpassed Japan in 2010 as the world’s 2nd largest economy.  With its current growth rate and without significant changes in the near future, China is expected to become the #1 economy in the world (surpassing the US) by 2015.  And this is just a recent estimate.  10 years ago, economists gave the expectation of China’s supremacy at 2020.  It probably doesn’t benefit the US that it’s just recovering from a recession that began in 2008.  Even now, we face record deficits, high unemployment rates, and a risk of returning back to our economic slump.  While China too, suffered from the global recession in 2008, its earlier investments in infrastructure and commerce allowed it to rebound quickly and pulled even further ahead.  The scary part is that both the rise AND rebound was done with only a portion of their population.  The majority of Chinese still live in poverty, even some of their middle class functioning off annual salaries of $7,000.  China’s unemployment rate is somewhere around 2% (if reported correctly), and their children continue to achieve higher scores in the maths and sciences, compared to US students.

China continues to devalue its money to benefit from a high rate of exports, beating out all countries, numbers-wise.  Recently, Chinese officials have agreed to begin raising the value of the renminbi to its true value, though at a snails pace, and at a rate that would not reach its full capacity until 25 years from now.  This devaluement in currency undermines the ability of the US (and all other countries) to trade at a competitive rate which only aids China’s rapid rise.  Add their massive investments in infrastructure and their buying of large quantities of US debt, and you have a country who will soon vie for power with the current leading nation –us.

Until last year, Japan remained the #2 largest economy in the world, as it had for decades.  Focusing its markets on technology and automobiles  in 80s by using cheap labor and quality production, shot it’s economic status past the European competition in only a few years.  China’s communistic government remained a threat to the US (the Cold War was still going on) so the US were more than happy to allow Japan’s uninhibited rise to power.  Unfortunately, that rise got a little out of hand.  Much like China does today, Japanese state banks retained almost no liquid assets, instead allowing fast and cheap loans to continuously fund private projects.  While easy access to money stimulates growth and revenue, the acquiring a mass of loans that go into fault can counteract any growth.  This uncontrolled fluidity in money and bad loans caused the major Japanese banks to fail, bringing a decade of an abysmal market economy, leaving the country struggling to recover.  Learning from the Japanese mistakes, China began its fast and furious investment in more sustainable growth, like infrastructure and US debt.

The 90s meant slow or no growth to Japan’s markets, yet still provided a buffer zone of competition for China.  While China could mass export cheap goods along with cheap labor, Japan could counter with low prices and better quality goods.  When labor costs from profits in exports increased in both, competition only further increased as the two began to export their manufacturing requirements to surrounding Asian countries (Phillipines, Laos, and Cambodia).  Japan, the long reigning champ of the Asian economies and trade alliances like ASEAN, became threatened when China made concessions with the same alliances for the largest regional, free-trade agreement in the world (bigger than NAFTA which by the way, the US is currently balking on).  In reaction, Japan began hosting ASEAN commerce conferences without China involvement, making their own free-trade concessions.  This tit-for-tat continued through the decades as Japan and China have attempted to one-up each other.

The US has only benefited from the continual bickering between China and Japan.  The US economy has had it’s own issues, struggling in economic growth for the past two decades with the loss of manufacturing jobs to developing countries (manufacturing was the key factor in rapid American growth after WWII; with Europe’s factories blown apart, who else could produce en masse?).  The recognition of those issues have only begun to surface (hindsight is 20/20) in present day, Japan no longer capable being our line of defense from China.  It seems Japan’s buffer only managed to stem the tide of an upcoming onslaught of cheap goods and labor that the US cannot rival.

Japan’s manufacturing market is effectively crippled for years to come.  And initial assessments show that EVERY country is being hit with the repercussions of a sudden lack of goods.  Even now American, Korean, and European factories have been forced to close from lack of parts, more so in their automotive sectors.  In order to fill this demand, SOMEONE will eventually have to step up and provide the dropped supply.  And who other than China, who’s market is most similar to Japan’s (pre-Tsunami).  If one thought China’s barreling economic rise was dangerous now, they ain’t seen nothing yet!

There is nothing stopping an increased supply of Chinese goods from flooding American markets, including other markets that China was effectively locked out of due to Japan’s superiority.  The Phillipines massive population of cheap labor is no longer under the sway of Japan as the country struggles to provide its own people with basic needs.  In other words, greater access to cheaper Chinese goods with greater supply.

Until a week ago, Japan powered many of China’s eastern cities along the coast.  While a sudden lack of power supply will temporarily set China back in growth, China has gone on (post-tsunami) to make conciliatory promises just in the last few days to build even MORE nuclear power plants.  In other words, while the rest of the world is scaling back on nuclear power and relying more on it’s diminishing fossil fuels, China is successfully weaning itself off of oil.  It should not be a surprise as to which supreme power will hurt the most once the oil is gone.

In all the doom and gloom, there is no better time for the US to pick itself up, dust itself off, and continue its lead as the sole, global power.  This is not the time to be turning away from nuclear energy and back towards fossil fuels.  The recent hike in gas prices should be enough to tell any American that they can only afford only so much per gallon.  Take the lessons from Japan’s aftermath and use it as an opportunity to ensure that the nuclear power that IS built, is safe and controllable.

There is no better time to reassess implementation of the education system and reclaiming the leading title the US had only a few decades ago (perhaps by even using methods from the Asian states).

Last of all, this is the time to reinvest in infrastructure, something remiss for years now.  Increase rail construction, repair the 50,000 dams that are presently failing, and widen roads in order to speed commerce (unlike Europe who ships mostly by train, most US freight is carried by eighteen-wheelers).  Not only will these solid investments increase productivity across the board, but have the underlying effect of decreasing unemployment rates!  China may continue to grow in strength and power, but it’s a lot more difficult the US when it’s growing at the same rate.

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It is a little known fact in American History (thanks to our great educational system…), that today’s political parties were not always the dominant forces they are currently.  In fact, the Republican Party we know today was the result of another reigning political party’s fall from power.  From the birth of the United States to the American Civil War, the Whig party operated on a platform similar to that of present day conservatives.  To give you an idea of their significance, the Whigs placed four presidents in the White House, including Abraham Lincoln (a self-professed Whig until running for presidency on the Democratic platform).  Its only opposition then: today’s Democratic Party, the oldest political party in America.

The looming outbreak of the Civil War forced states, politicians, and political parties to choose sides or risk irrelevancy.  With the Whig Party unwilling to fully back either the North or the South, disfranchised politicians left in droves, joining either the Democrats or the fledgling Republican Party.  Within a decade, the Whigs were almost non-existent.  And a few years from that, gone.

Jump forward in time to 2008, where American Soldiers upon return from the forefronts of the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, soon felt abandoned by their political parties (their politicians were more interested in finger pointing and blaming than solving issues of substance).  Many of the troops during their deployment, witnessed first-hand the trickle effect of a non-working government.  Resources and personnel were frequently cut drastically or came in inundating waves, as Republican and Democratic leadership battled over how to support war efforts.  Unwilling to support either party any further, these servicemen devised a separate platform to meet American’s needs.  Modernizing the tenants of the previous Whig party, this group of individuals re-lit the beacon of the original party, calling on other disfranchised citizens to join them.  The new Whig Party or, the “Modern Whigs” avowed not to follow a specific platform, instead advocating that not every solution to a social/political issue has a right and wrong answer.  Instead, the Whigs promised to seek solutions that benefit the majority, a more centrist approach, or as they claimed, “the party for the rest of us.”

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The grassroots movement of the Modern Whig Party gained immediate popularity.  In less than a year’s time, membership rosters included more than 30,000 citizens dedicated to their cause.  Chapters formed in 38 states with new volunteers joining daily.  Their first electoral victory was almost immediate, won by Ken Belcher for County Constable, in Alabama.  In 2010, Time magazine listed the Modern Whigs as one of the fastest growing political movements in the United States.   With an official charter, bylaws in place and a newly elected national committee headquartered in Washington, D.C., the Modern Whigs were unstoppable.

In the next electoral hurdle, the Modern Whigs backed Gene L. Baldassari, seeking a seat in the New Jersey Assembly, 14th district.  Baldassari earned a measly 738 votes, or 0.6% of the vote.  Unfazed, the Whigs went even higher in the political spectrum, choosing to back Jeff Vanke, who was running as an independent for Virginia’s 6th electoral district against Republican incumbent, Bob Goodlatte.  Vanke too, failed.  The Modern Whig movement ground to a halt.  After two losses, members of the party began leaving the Whigs to rejoin the two larger parties.  Even former leaders of the party, disheartened and seeing a losing battle, began to throw in the towel.  It seemed that within a three year time period, the Modern Whigs had climbed from oblivion, to an unstoppable, national force, to a small, doomed cluster of die-hards.

Whatever happened during the time period between Jeff Vanke’s loss and now, not a lot is known.  Forums and websites, once teeming with activity, were either closed or ghostly empty.  News coverage of the party, which was normally mentioned on a once, daily basis, was silent.  State chapters that had maintained thousands of political activists, shuttered their doors, unable to continue due to lack of funding.  What had happened to the Modern Whigs?  They regrouped, refocused, and are now fighting back with a vengeance!

Just this month, the Modern Whigs have launched a full scale public relations assault to reinvigorate the populace.  Targeting key seats of political stature to win in several states, the Whig leadership is dead set on earning America’s respect.  Media and advertising for meetings, teleconferences, and town halls, have been blanketing the nation, convincing some that the Whigs are hardly out of the game.  I, for one, am eager to see the phoenix rise from the ashes!

The Modern Whig Party follows a six-tenet philosophy:

• Fiscal responsibility – “The Modern Whig philosophy is to empower the states with the resources to handle their unique affairs.”
• Energy independence – “Reduce dependence on foreign oil by developing practical sources of alternative energy. This will have the simultaneous effect of changing the national security dynamic.”
• Education/Scientific advancement – “Increased public and private emphasis on fields such as space, oceanic, medical and nanotechnology. Also, providing common-sense solutions to enhance our educational system from pre-school to university-level studies.”
• States’ rights – “Each state can determine its course of action based on local values and unique needs.”Social progression – “Government should refrain from legislating morality.”
• Veterans’ affairs – “Vigilant advocacy relating to the medical, financial, and overall well-being of our military families and veterans.”

There are also self-described “General Principles” of Modern Whig philosophy that are included along with the tenets: “general principles of fiscal responsibility, strong national defense and bold social progression.”

The Modern Whig Party logo is an owl, the symbol of the original Whig Party.  Using red, white, and blue as the Republican and Democratic parties do, the Modern Whig’s primary color is white.  White represents the middle, or centrist view, between the Republican red and Democratic blue.

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To add to the confusion, senior Pakistani intelligence officials have also released statements, reporting that the aerial strikes that took place were on known Taliban militants coordinating plans to send fighters to Afghanistan.  The intelligence officials also stated (though on condition of anonymity) that accusations of innocent lives being lost from the missile attack were Taliban propaganda, a tactic regularly used by militants in order to stir up hostilities.

Pakistan and the United States began coordination of missile strikes on militant targets in 2004.  Most of these strikes have taken place along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border in areas such as North Waziristan, a known Taliban stronghold.  In recent years, the number of strikes has increased as the United States and its allies have worked to apply pressure on Taliban networks in an effort to stem the levels of violence in Afghanistan.

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Thursday’s alleged strike took place in the town of Datta Khel, 25 miles west of Miranshah, the main town in tribal North Waziristan.  If Pakistani intelligence claims are correct, the militants killed were allied with Hafiz Gul Bahadur, a powerful Pakistani Taliban commander notorious for coordinating attacks on foreign forces in Afghanistan,  The most senior militant killed in the attack was Sharabat Khan, Bahadur’s top commander for Datta Khel, who had called the meeting.  If the Intelligence officials are wrong, then according to a local tribal elder over telephone (who could not be identified, which seems to be a frequent occurrence when Taliban conduct their negative PR), the strike hit a group of local tribesmen meeting to settle disagreements over the sale of a chromite mine.

Accidental civilian casualties by American and allied forces are not unheard of (last week an American helicopter killed a group of Afghanis collecting firewood it mistook for militants), but US and ISAF forces have taken huge measures to ensure the safety of civilian lives, limiting their use of aerial drones for attack purposes.  Taliban and Al Queda leadership have also released similar messages calling for the preserving of civilian lives, though their actions have shown differently.  Civilians are frequently targeted by militants in order to cause mass casualties and discredit the fledgling government of Afghanistan.

Thursday’s accusations come at a bad time for the West as Pakistani citizens are already in uproar over the release of CIA contractor, Raymond Davis.  The American was being kept in custody by Pakistan authorities after accused of a double murder.  Davis claims to have defended himself from an attack on his life by the two individuals who subsequently died in the attempt.  He was released from custody this week after a payment of $2 million in blood money was made to the dead parties’ families.  News of Davis’ release provoked demonstrations across the Pakistan, forcing the US Embassy in Islamabad to close its doors on Friday.

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Social media has now permeated almost every aspect of our lives, providing us with one-stop shops for news, media, business, and a way to keep in contact with friends and family.  Consider this, almost every person you know is a member of at least one of these networks.  That being said, social networking still has its limits and many of the major game changers are gone, almost as quickly as they appeared.  Myspace, once the dominant force of the social network strata (first years of the new millennium) has been usurped by the new king in town, Facebook.  With Facebook’s ability to now “like”, “suggest”, or “share” sources from other websites with quick, click of a button, users are even further enmeshed in their networks than before.  Other social sites such as Twitter, Linked-In, theBlueWarrior, and Google Buzz, all share this capability, though not to the extent or reach of the massive Facebook.  But while the recent trend of “everything connected” seems to still be going strong, but I’m predicting that the current, major influencers are reaching their peak, and it’s all downhill from there.

It’s an awesome feeling going to a single website to connect with all of your friends and relatives.  We can create a searchable profile with our descriptions and likes, invite large crowds of people to events, and share anything that interests us at the moment.  And as of recent, we can peruse our favorite news or shopping site and share this as well!  But at what point do the networks get too large and the voices of friends and family begin to drown each other out.  And how many updates does it take, notifying you that Becky bought a new purse or Sam is hung over again, before you just don’t care?  My point is that while the likes of Facebook, Linked-In, and Friendster remain vast pools of knowledge and connections, over-saturation is bound to occur.  And when it does, people will be leaving in droves.  Example, look at Myspace today.     

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This idea of over-saturation is nothing new and many entrepreneurs are using a head start advantage to create more focused sites, all in attempts to fleeing customers.  The thought process is that social networking plays such an important role in today’s society, it will never truly dissolve.  What most likely will occur is a fracturing of current networks into tinier, niche markets.  Example of this behavior is evident in the early days of the internet and the use of chat rooms.  Chat rooms were the staple of internet socialization in the 1990s with users surfing for topics of discussion at a single site, then immediately joining and interacting.  Within a few years though, a rise in personal websites dedicated to specific topics with similar forum capabilities appeared, effectively ending the reign of the all encompassing chat rooms.   Another example of social internet fraction is in the once might AOL.  The 90s internet was the AOL internet.  With the ability to browse websites, chat, e-mail, get current news, etc., AOL was the official portal to the internet, at one time swelling to 130,000,000 users (almost half the US population at the time, in comparative numbers).  But it’s all inclusive services eventually overwhelmed the normal, everyday user, leading to a decline in memberships.  Former AOL users found smaller, focused service providers that catered to their specific wants and needs.  Though AOL is still a leading internet service provider in present day, its membership numbers are somewhere around the 19,000,000 mark, and even that is rapidly declining.

Micro-social networks are THE future of social networking.  The common citizen now has vast amounts of free resources that allow almost anyone to create a personal network within minutes.  As these resources and networks are refined, they will begin to slowly chip away at the current social behemoths until their combined power rivals the giants. I’ve made a concerted effort to test most of the social networking platforms I mention in this article.  Some of them required a hefty down payment for even minimal, basic use, and I was unwilling to fork out the cash to test a program that was widely known to be unpopular.  I have not been paid for any advertising.  To give you an idea of my level of computer skills: I have no real, educational background in computers.  I was a video game nerd throughout high school and a Political Science major in college.  I do have the benefit of attending US Army Signal School, but its focus was on radio and network configurations, not the use of operating systems, internet, or software.  What programming I have learned is from books and free tutorials available on the internet.  So without further adieu, here is my review of the leading social network sites:

Facebook The current unrivaled king of social networks, probably with a ways to go before its popularity wanes.  Created by Harvard drop-out Mark Zuckerberg, it was originally open to college students with active, student email accounts.  Facebook’s methodology for growth was to select specific colleges to focus on and provide them user content, then to sit back and allow user numbers to explode at the local level as it’s popularity went viral.  This niche marketing allowed for a stable growth on college campuses, guaranteeing it a foothold in the social network realm.  Within a few years of its official start, its member numbers almost rivaled that of the well-established Myspace.  It then opened its markets to the general populace, dropping its original requirement for a valid, college e-mail account.  Facebook has since spread so far in reach, it’s now possible to share content from other websites such as shopped items, news of interest, and favored widgets.

Facebook does not allow you to create your own network, but I feel it needs mentioning in this list due to it being standard that other social networks base themselves off.  It is possible to create user groups and advertising pages which collect fans and subscribers, but this is as a subset of the original network.  Most social network creators do their best to emulate the Facebook platform in order to woo over users.  My personal opinion is that any networking site seeking real growth and community interaction should avoid any similarity to the Facebook platform.  Their ideas are already in use.  It’s old and outdated.  Why not provide something different and unique?

Myspace The one-time juggernaut of social networks, Myspace has claimed over 100,000,000 users, rivaling populations of some developed countries.  Based off the platform of Friendster, several eUniverse employees took the idea of social networking and ran with it.  Tom Anderson, one of Myspace’s original founders stated that the original intent of the site was to allow musicians to collaborate music in order to spread word and talent.  Use of the website went viral and within 2 years was the leading social network platform.  Though a dominant force, it found itself in direct competition with the rising Facebook, eventually being eclipsed in usage in 2008.  Myspace continues to be the #2 social network site, but it has had to reorient itself to a niche market in order to retain relevancy.  Myspace claims to have gone back to its original intent of providing a platform for new and rising artist to get their music to their fans quickly.

Myspace also does not allow you to create your own social network.  Like Facebook, you can create a user profile with friends, groups, and forums, and also upload and play music of your own or to your liking.  Originally, you could use html and css to design your page for different appearance.  This capability was eventually abandoned as Myspace attempted to compete directly with Facebook.  Myspace is now a niche market platform focused on proving access to new music and designed for young people.  It still claims on average 19,000,000 regular users.

Linked-In Viewed as an underdog in social networking for many years, Linked-In has stepped into its own becoming the 3rd place champion.  Linked-In is what Monster.com failed to become.  In a completely niche market, Linked-In is for professionals and careerists networking with each other for employment needs and opportunities.  Due to its area of focus, it has succeeded in becoming a dominant force in the employment AND social market, and a must for today’s job seekers.

Linked-In does not allow you to create your own social network.  By creating a user profile, individuals can peruse job listings, employers, or job seekers, via connections made.  Linked-In is the Facebook for adults.  It is my bet that Linked-In will continue to grow in numbers and power unless the other dominant networks figure out a way to siphon off some of its market.

Ning A dominant, niche, social platform that allows users to create their own social network with the resources provided them.  Using open source programming, users can edit and create php and html modules to alter the look and operation of their personal network.  Ning gives the social network creator the ability to provide photo albums, chat, video, and profile listings to their personal network users. Though well established with lots of reference material, I have read several complaints from network creators that they feel ripped off by the entire creation experience.  User IDs that are created for a particular social network or domain are capable of accessing any other social network or domain on the Ning platform.  Social network creators feel this takes away from the ownership of their domains and causes unnecessary competition from within Ning.  Personally, I prefer not to use Ning based off this information.  But it’s an excellent tool for those new to the social network market.

WordPress One of the top personal website designer platforms in the world.  While its intended use was for personal blog websites, its ease of use has allowed it to develop into an open sandbox platform.  Several large scale corporations are known to use WordPress as their domain platform.  Due to WordPress not originally intended as a social network toolbox, socialization elements are not included with the platform.  Instead, creators can choose to add these features as they go, either by coding it in themselves, or purchasing them as modules from 3rd party individuals to install onto their site.

I cannot vouch for the amount of users, fans, or subscribers a domain owner can have on WordPress before bogging down the databases, but well hosted and dedicated servers should help with that.  I definitely suggest WordPress for the beginner website creator who is still unsure on what direction their network will go.

Boonex Dolphin Another reigning social network creator, Boonex’s Dolphin platform offers so much content, it is sometimes overwhelming for a new user.  Once installed on your server, creators will find that their new site comes with almost everything—and I mean everything.  Chat, Video, Music, Forum, Blogs, Matching, Profiles, Classifieds, Calendars, the list goes on.  I believe this is also the downfall of Dolphin, as well.  While it is awesome that all of these features come standard, creators are sometimes unsure of what content to include on their site.  This usually leads to their social websites being overcrowded and excessive, causing users to shy away.  Due to all of the functional features included, it is almost impossible for a user to find an area they prefer to interact in.

In order to alter a specific feature in Dolphin, it is sometimes necessary to change up to 3 different files in totally different locations on the server side.  In all honesty, I prefer this method as I can truly get into the nitty-gritty of coding, changing the elements to my own liking.  My own social network site, theBlueWarrior.com is based on the Dolphin platform.  While I have had my share of headaches with it as one small error could completely crash your website, the network is completely mine and I can add or take away anything I like.

One quick note on this:  Boonex has been careful to ensure that its advertising remains on your social website.  For a pretty price, you can have those removed.  But if you attempt to remove it yourself, you will quickly find that your site is no longer accessible.

SocialGo A pretty, cookie-cutter social network creator, SocialGo is intended for small, personal networks for family members and local soccer teams.  It is NOT open source but comes with easy add-on modules that you can purchase.  The admin guys at SocialGo will even go as far as installing the modules for you.  If you’re looking for a quick network to create, and meant for select people, this is the simplest way to go.

Now for the downsides.  Domain hosting options are not available.  When setting up your domain, it HAS to be hosted by the service provider offered by SocialGo.  While there are options to upgrade the server capabilities, there is no chance for transferring the domain to any other provider.  If that doesn’t sound fishy, here’s the next catch: any domain you create is actually a subdomain to SocialGo’s URL.  In other words, in order to access your site, users will have to go to www.yoursite.SocialGo.com, or some other version of that.   I would hope that any domain I purchased and owned would belong to me, not the service provider or platform I chose to use.

SkaDate A dating software platform I have worked with before, SkaDate provides both open source coding and cookie-cutter modules, depending on the skill level of the creator.  The service is not free, requiring a one-time fee of over $400, and modules added come at an additional price.  Other than the price requirement, I have found SkaDate fun to use and easy to rely on.  In no way do I claim to be an expert programmer and I admit that some of my ideas for websites are far-fetched.  But SkaDate allows me to either approach my problems with their easy user interface or to delve deep into coding.  A friend of mine with no programming experience has worked on my sites with me and found the module interface simple enough for a beginner webmaster.  I’m more of a fan of open source, cPanel type editing, but SkaDate has so far proven reliable enough for both.

There are many more social network sites and platformsthan I have mentioned here.  At some point, I’ll try to cover down on all of them.  Each of the platforms provide a similar service (though some better than others) that can suit your needs.  I think the biggest thing to remember when creating or using a social network is that Facebook has already been done.  Their format is successful and user friendly.  Attempting to replicate their look for your own site will only lead to failure.  There is no reason for a user to leave a working website like Facebook for an exact copy of it, but with less users.  Where you can excel at is by providing a service that is more focused or localized.  Facebook is HUGE and that keeps it catering to the masses, thus ignoring the individuals.  Create a network that makes your users feel included and they’ll come to you without looking back.  Last of all, provide content that is relevant to your site and users.  Anyone can post copied news stories to their website.  It’s the successful social networks that are making news and creating content.  Until next time!