A few years ago, to realign with the war effort, the Army started finding ways to free up more soldiers for deployment. This included replacing soldiers in non-deploying positions with civilians so those soldiers would be free to go to deploying units. Even though I was in a deploying unit, we worked for the Fort Irwin Public Affairs Office, which meant that our garrison counterparts would eventually be replaced with civilians. It was while Jeremy was deployed that this process began. Unfortunately, the experience working with civilians at Fort Irwin was the polar opposite of the amazing experiences I had at Fort Leavenworth. Civilianization is among the worst ideas the Army has ever had.

The civilians we did get in were all retired Army public affairs, which would normally lead to the assumption that they know what they are doing and are disciplined enough to do it. WRONG. They were an extremely incompetent group who would never have been hired if it weren’t so hard to find employees willing to drive 45 minutes to the middle of the desert to work for shit pay. Things remained relatively bearable until the public affairs officer left, leaving the office to a civilian public affairs director. Thus began an experience that would ultimately keep me from fighting to stay in the military after my back issues became intolerable.

After the civilian director was hired, we still had a military officer in charge. This lead to a lot of tension between the two as they stubbornly battled to come out on top. It especially came to a head over me and another soldier. This was great at the time, but as soon as the major was reassigned, the civilians and the non-public affairs non-commissioned officer in charge (for non-military folk, that is the senior enlisted military person in the office) turned all their animosity on us. They kept us from writing for the paper (which was our job), were on our asses for the slightest infraction and generally out to make our lives miserable. When it got to be too much, we went to our first sergeant for mediation. Unfortunately, that got us no where because even the first sergeant saw what they were doing.

Eventually, the final straw hit when I overheard the NCOIC and the director “jokingly” say they wished they could ship me and my coworker in a metal container to Fort Hood, Texas. Formal complaints were filed and we were finally removed from that office and sent to work as supply clerks for our battalion. Not the job we were trained for, but then again, we weren’t do that before.

Around the same time, I’d finally hit the last straw on the issues with my back. I had started having problems with it when I was stationed at Leavenworth and doing a lot of running. When Jeremy first deployed, I started running more and messed it up for good. After a long discussion with my physical therapist, it was decided that there was no way I could stay in the Army like that and medical evaluation board proceedings began. By this time, I was ready to be out. My marriage was over and I was just waiting for it to be final, I was completely jaded and sick of the military after all the earlier bullshit and I was just ready for a total change in my life.

Within three months of moving to supply and starting my MEB, I got the call that said the medical higher-ups agreed with my physical therapist and they were going to release me from my contract. Within two weeks I was putting on that uniform for the last time and here I am: jobless and loving it, writing again and this time writing what I want to write, not what I’m told to write. And even better, no more regulations telling me what I can and can’t do. So what am I gonna do now? Well, I’m not a football player winning the Super Bowl, so fuck going to Disneyland. I think instead I’m going to smoke some pot, snort coke off a big breasted stripper’s ass and get my nosed pierced. One down. Two more to go.