Sucks, squeezes, bangs, blows, and goes

This morning was the best I've felt in a long time.

Engine runs.........Fuggin A! Throwing throttles in an 80,000 lb hunk o metal....the plane lurches and rocks with every throttle movement responding to your commands ...producing so much thrust she blasts everything in her path. Enough thrust to send a small plane taxiing behind her hurling like a tumble weed. What's not to like about engine runs? It is different everytime, never know what could go wrong. And because we are doing maintenance ops checks things do go wrong. From jumping chalks...to emergency shutdowns for any number of reasons, smoke, fire equipment malfunctions. The plane shaking and straining against the chocks when we are pulling power while I run thru the maintenance checks with the run crew. The original write up was a a hung start with low TIT (turbine Inlet temp). It happened in both auto and null. Which means if this engine were a reciporcating engine in a car...it would be cranking over but not starting. Youd have spark but no ignition. Which means your not getting fuel.But The fuel pumps were working. So very simply put....the component that we call a carburetor on a car is called a fuel control for a jet engine. It meters fuel to the manifold, but it has more bells and whistles than a carb. You know when you drive from low elevation into the mountains how you have to adjust the mixture on your carb or the car runs like crap. Well ours has the bells and whistles to do that automatically. Not real practical to have the mechanic get out there while we're flying along to adjust it. To further complicate a simple system we throw the "TD" or temperature datum system into the mix. Well it basically limits the temp of the engine by further adjusting fuel flow. More or less for optimal engine performance. We can actually select "null" and bypass or "null" the whole TD system. Sounds sexy huh? However normal operation is auto or the TD system operating. Dont want to get to technical on the operation of a jet engine.......it is actually pretty simple... if anyone does have any questions about the technical aspects ask away......or about planes in general.......

So today was a great day, cuz it was me against the clock and i won..You can schedule a plane all you want but if she doesnt want to fly she wont. And only a good mechanic can change her mind, No general can order her to fly ....just the crewchief. Can you hear me smiling?

.....i will never forget though in tech school which is AIT for those fluent in army......., when someone raised their hand and asked how a jet engine worked on the first day of class, and the teacher responded "well.....It sucks, squeezes, bangs, blows, and goes."

By the text book there are indeed 4 sections to a jet engine. Intake Section=takes in air=sucks The Compressor Section=compresses air for more efficient burning=squeezes The Combustion Section= burns the fuel air mixture=bangs and the exhaust section=expels heat and unburned gasses=blows + ...goes=the thrust produced by the first four.....moving the aeroplane outta dodge!

You know one day i wanted to get to my site so i typed in the title live from the rear..... and boy was i surprised to find the sights that got brought up....of course mine had not came up until i put in the actual addy. I considered changing the name at that point, pretty embarrassed by my ignorance. I can just imagine where this post will end up!

In Remembrance ............................... click here

Here is a good site about our fallen brothers click on title to check it out

Rest in Peace....... Brave Heores, You are Not Forgotten.



Sunday, June 26, 2005


Lance Cpl. Larry L. Wells
Mount Hermon, La
He was the kind of guy who wore plastic Wal-Mart bags over his shoes to prevent them from getting dirty when...
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Sgt. Michael J. Kelley
Scituate, MA
A 1997 graduate of Scituate High School in Massachusetts, he joined the National Guard straight out of high school...
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Maj. Duane W. Dively
Rancho, CA
Dively had completed flying a mission and was returning to his base when the crash occurred.
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Sgt. Arnold Duplantier
Sacramento, CA
Duplantier was killed by small-arms fire while he was providing cordon security in Baghdad.
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Spc. Brian A. Vaughn
Pell City, AL
Vaughn and another soldier were killed when their unit was attacked by small-arms fire while conducting combat operations.
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Because of you

Because of You
(written by "Militarybrrat" )


For Colby Buzell , and 'Blue Steele' and all the other Stryker guys...For Travis and all the other 'odd men out, For Joe Kleikamp and the other 'Iron Soldiers'...For 'Sgt G'....For Matt Rockhold...for Chris Robishaw ...For Adam Kimmich..., for Joe Klapperich For Mike Glover and all of 366 be safe guys!..for Al Locke..for Frank A.... For "Filthy Beast"... for Steve Patnode... for Stacy Schiver for 'Scuba Steve' you fu*ker...........lol ......for

For Matt England, for Nick Keane for Bob Romer....and all the 82nd guys...and 96th CA ...For our kentucky boys with the Screamin' Eagles of the 101st, and Highspeed 160th... For my georgia buddies from 3rd ID and the 75th HOOAH!! ;) To the guam guys who i forget what there unit is called for .....Fourth ID ......for the guys with the "Electric Jalapeno" division patch don't remember which unit it is and I'm too lazy to google it...for the rainbow division patch infantry unit...(do you guys ever have a military pride fest...lol sorry couldn't help it....:} For 10th MTN out of Ft Drum...for all of Socom and Our other services......

There are many more units, i wish i could remember more....for all the brave men who we have flown into combat...to the heros we know and the many more that we don't.....

for all those men who have ever worn blue cords for the medics that sacrafice so much to bring our brothers home and those brave troops who support and fight with them. For our wounded , For our fallen brothers.......

It is what you do that makes this military one i serve so proudly in. It is the great people like you that makes our country worth defending


freedom 

He's sitting on a roof all night He shivers in the cold .
He struggles hard to stay awake He's just 18 years old .
He writes a letter to his mom beneath the desert moon.
He promises that he'll stay safe that that he'll be home soon

the newest member of his squad his eyes still wide with faith.
He joined the army out of school to keep his country safe.

The town below is quiet and the people are asleep
the darkness hides the bloodstains of past battles in the street.

your work may never be as such that most will ever see
the bravery and the sacrafice required of infantry
So to the unsung heros fighting for democracy
No thanks could ever be enough because of you im free.

He was sitting on a roofotop in the desert far from home
it was night and it was quiet he was feeling all alone
it was not as he expected in this far and distant land
he grew weary of the checkpoints while he freed Iraq by hand
He came here with a vision fighting bigger better things,
he thought by now Iraq somehow would hear how freedom rings

Another observation point...... another Ied......
it seems at times he wonders do they want democracy?
another boring checkpoint ...& another countless raid..
sometimes he starts to wonder can we win this war we made?

he's melting in his armor while he's sitting there all night
.... the world below seems peacful through his rifle's sniper sight
......he's been here 15 months but
if he could he wouldn't trade ...he'd do it all again
just for the freindships that he made.

for his buddies and his comrades in this far and distant land
and for those who've ever had to hold a wounded buddies hand

for the guys who've seen the fear in eyes of children on a raid
& for those who've had to see a buddies life begin to fade.
for the anger and the sorrow and the heartache and the rage
and the stuggles and the sacrafice behind this war we wage

for our hero saving lives only because they risk their own
and the brave men who when sound asleep still hear a wounded's moan

for the soldier on the roof training his weapon on the night
caffeine to fight fatigue just to stay ready for the fight

your work may never be as such that most will ever know
the fear within your heart, it is not something that you show

Thank you for the hardships you must stuggle with each day
thanks to those in times of fear who bravely lead the way
So to our the unsung heros who provide security

Forever im in debt to you, it's cuz of you im free.


ramadi 

the best part is bringing them home

here is a the story of a soldiers homecomming..the small little part i play is the best part of serving.......


bringing back for R&R 

It was only 8 months ago but it feels like a life time already. I had already been stateside for a week before we were flown back to our state so I had gotten to talk to my family on the phone several times. I was told that our families would be meeting us at the unit because we'd be landing on the military side of the airport. My sister had fedex'd her cell phone to me in Colorado so I could call anyone I wanted at anytime, still such a novelty for me. Our plane landed at the small airport and we were loaded onto busses when the phone rang and my mom told me to look out the window at the fence line. My oldest daughter was there in the parking lot so I ran off the bus and kissed her through the chain link fence with tears in my eyes. My mom had brought both my daughters to the airport even if they could only see me through a fence. My baby girl was only 4 months old when I left last year so she was a little scared of mommy in all that gear but I held her through every stupid little formation and I wouldn't let go. The tears of joy were so different than my tears of last year. I don't honestly remember what happened after that, just lots of cuddling on the couch with my girls. Like DocMillerTime said, being a single parent is a whole different world. Your children are all you can think about and I am so thankful to be home with mine.




I got off the C-5 at Hunter Airfield, shook the Adjutant General's hand and chatted with him for a bit (there was only one chalk of us arriving at once, and the state TAG maintains a close relationship with our company). I went to a makeshift supply truck we had, cleared my weapon, turned it in, and walked into the hanger to be greeted by a US flag that had to be about 300 feet across. If you've ever seen the embarkation terminal at Hunter AAF, it spans the entire length of one of the short walls. The VFW and Red Cross and USO were there giving us food and stuff, but noone could eat. I took advantage of my first Krispy Kreme in almost 18 months, and literally ate the thing in one bite, then choked cause I tried swallowing it whole. After recovering from that little bout, we formed up and got on a bus. This whole time it hadn't hit me that I was home yet. We made the 30 minute drive from Hunter AAF to Ft. Stewart, and formed up outside the gym. We could hear the 3rd ID band playing and crowds of people cheering. We organized the chalk by company as best we could (were were a mix of 3 companys from the same battalion returning on 6 different flights) and formed up, then marched into the gym. We couldn't even hear the 1SG call mark-time---march, we just did it on our own. The TAG gave a brief speech, and then the battalion commander took the formation, and called for the Sergeant major. "Sergeant Major, POST! ......Sergeant Major, take charge of your chalk, dismiss your troops."....They saluted and the CSM did an about face. " Stand at, Ease! ........Welcome home, warriors. First formation will be at 0700 hours Monday. Battalion! (Company!). Attention! .....(there was a long pause, maybe 15 seconds)......DISMISSED!"
All hell broke loose. With a loud thunderous cry we all just broke ranks and ran into the bleachers to see our family. I found my mother in the stands and gave her a hug and didn't let go for 10 minutes. At some point in time that day I found all the other guys I was friendly with, and hugged their parents too. Hell, apparently I hugged a 1-star General, but I must have missed that. Anyway, we were dismissed for the weekend, so the first thing we did was drive back to Savannah, and I put my stuff down on the bed and did a crossword puzzle. Then I remember going downstairs in the hotel, still in my DCU's cause we didn't have any civies, and drinking the last year away.
I never really realized I was home until 2 weeks later when I went on vacation skiing in Utah...the same vacation I was trying to go on when I was activated and pulled off my plane to go to Iraq. I woke up to the sound of mortars firing, and explosions, and I rolled off my bed, searching frantically for my rifle and body armor. It was only then I realized that I was in the US, and the mortars were avalanche control. I couldn't stop shaking for nearly two days.




Hi Everyone

I feel that my experience was alot different than the ones I've read . I am an army reservist, most of the men in my unit were already on duty since 9-11, got about 90 days off and were activated for OIF. We spent 8 months in Baghdad and came home as 3 seperate groups. The first were the guys close to the 2 year mark then the rest of us came home.

We were broken into 2 groups and sent home on Military transports, not airline planes. Luckly we came home on Dec 24 and Dec 25. But we didn't get any fanfare when we landed. We got on a bus and luckly had people who got us out on a 4 day pass, on a bus by midnight. Those that left after my group got in anfd got their pass shortly after the got back.

We had to come back after pass so that we were out processed. When we got to our area we were escorted by fire trucks from every station that our soldiers were from. We had a speech from the general and then we were dismissed. Not alot of fanfare and we were lost in the shuffle. And even a year later there was not much support, but some of us keep in touch and help get through.

Thanks for having an open ear and mind.
Bakes

dawn, U.S. Marine Cpl. Jason Williams, of Pierre, S.D, mans a 50 caliber machine gun from inside the turret of an armored Humvee, helping provide security for a convoy of engineering equipment traveling from one base to another, in Ramadi, Sunday, Dec. 12, 2004. (AP Photo/Brennan Linsley) December 12, 2004
 

Rivr Blitz

Marines from the 1st Battalion 23rd Marines prepare their weapons in Haditha, west of Baghdad. The 1st Marine Division of the I Marine Expeditionary Force and Iraqi Security Forces kicked off Operation River Blitz, aimed to enhance security in and around the western Iraqi al-anbar province and its capital the city of Ramadi. (AFP/Jaime Razuri) February 21, 2005


 

Seen through night vision gear, Lance Cpl. Gary Cremeans, machine gunner, 3rd Platoon, Company B, 1st Battalion, 23rd Marine Regiment, 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit, and a 24-year-old heating, ventilating and air-conditioning technician from Austin, Texas, stands guard over two suspected insurgents, secured and detained in the background, during a nightly cordon and knock raid around Ramadi, Iraq, Dec. 23. The raid was part of a larger effort to maintain security and stability by disrupting the insurgency prior to elections.
(Cpl. Paul W. Leicht) December 23, 2004
 

so what makes someone wanna grab a gun and run into harms way?

Click on title to see article... found it on military.com


I chose 11B as an MOS simply because to me it's the heart and soul of a military force. Whether you're an Infantryman or a Ranger. It's "the warrior" mentality in my opinion and you wear the crossed rifles and blue cord on your uniforum.

As for Infantry in the National Guard which I was in and I'm going active duty to try and become a Ranger fairly soon, it's no different that Infantry training within the regular Army. The fundamentals are the same and they're all trained at Fort Benning Georgia. Unlike the Army reserve which has one, the National Guard has two objectives- state and oversease. If terrorists were in a building in your neighborhood they're not going to call active duty Infantry- It just cannot happen, they cannot call the reserve because they don't have 11B or other MOS's such as calvary Scout and etc. They're going to call the Guard and if you're needed in a place like Iraq you will also be called upon to defend this nation.

The reasons why I chose 11B may be different from other people but I assume we're all basically the same, whether you're in the Army or USMC, National Guard or active duty Infantry= becoming a warrior.


It's a calling. You hear it or you don't. If you do nothing else is going to measure up and while you'll probably entertain other options, to tell your self you're being open-minded, you'll know you're going to be an Infantryman before you even walk in the Recruiters door.

when you were a kid playing Army you never pretended you were a trasportation truck driver, a computer maintenance technician or a water purification specialist. You pretended you were an Infantryman (except for the big, dumb, slow kid that always wanted to be George Patton and went on to become a DAT).

It was always my dream to be a Soldier so I went and became a Soldier. I wouldn't have been happy as a court reporter or finance clerk in BDU's.

"The free men of the world are marching together to Victory."


Ever since I was a young child its what I wanted to be. An inner sense of adventure, a craving for danger, and the chance to go places and do things very few people get the chance to do. When my family asked me "Why, why the Infantry?", I honestly couldnt give them a good answer except for "Its just something I have to do."



It's a calling. You hear it or you don't.


There's your answer.


That pretty much covers it.
Your heart is either Infantry or it's not.
Mine was and is Airborne Infantry and still is even
though I've been out for years I still believe in it and
the great honor of wearing that blue brade and the cross
rifles.
The silver wings and jump boots don't hurt for the extra
touch either.
A Green Beret would be even better...I didn't make it that
far and live to regret it.

Be All You Can Be

give er gas 

parts to keep em flyin Hamilton Standard Style!!!! 

T56-15 Aliisons W/ Hamilton Standard props YEAH BABY!!! 

coalition troops 

runup pad for 130's in kuwait 

for those opposing desert storm 

the best shit hole i ever lived in 

the success of desert storm...today....freeing Kuwait...Amerivcan Style 

iraq 

beautiful desert........... 

bringing back for R&R 

Mechanics from Outlaw Troop, 4th Squadron, 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, perform maintenance on a Mast Mounted Sight of an OH-58D Kiowa Warrior helicopter at their base of operations in Habbaniyah, Iraq May 8, 2003. Photo by Andy Rogers/The Gazette 

Memorial Day.....and the famililies

Wow............!!!!'nuff said.....
[click on title for blog link]

Sunday, May 29, 2005
. . . and the familes.
I got an email recently that took me to task for taking too lighthearted a view of war and military service. The writer seemed to feel that by not dwelling on death and fear and horror, I was leaving a false impression of how combat was. I didn't think too much about it at the time - his main point seemed to be that, by not making my experiences seem terrible, I might actually encourage someone else to join up. I've already mentioned in this blog that I wasn't one of those who paid a heavy price for my service, and I do want to encourage others to do their duty as citizens - if they decide that duty includes military service, then I want to applaud that decision and not discourage it. I thought about the email again, though, as Memorial Day approached. And everyone should know that, for all that I sometimes make light of my experiences in combat, there are people who have paid dearly for the things that we sometimes take for granted in this country.

Maybe all soldiers in combat don't pay a heavy price, but some do, and every family of a combat soldier does. The wives and husbands, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, spend their days living with the dread of seeing the Army staff car pull up into the yard. Every news report of casualties - a rocket attack in Ghazni, a suicide bomber in Baghdad - hangs over them, day and night, until the names are released. Was it him? Was he on the chopper, in the HMMWV, on the patrol that got ambushed? And when a soldier does go down, he pays the "last full measure of devotion" then and there. For the family, the butcher's bill is presented on the installment plan. The family pays with every missed birthday, every question from the young child, "When is Daddy coming home?", every lonely night with an empty bed serving as a perpetual memorial, every pang of loss down through the years.

In the town where I live, every Memorial Day, Main Street and the town square are lined with plain white wooden crosses about three feet high, each surmounted with a small US flag, and each with the name and war of a local son who died in one of America's foreign wars. Even though it's a small town, we have enough war dead to line both sides of several miles of road with crosses spaced 20' or so apart. Family names common in the area leap out as you drive by, reminders of sacrifices gone by and pain still remembered.

And sometimes that pain goes on for many long years. We have another Memorial Day tradition here: Every year, there's a commemorative gathering in the town square, usually in the week before Memorial Day so that the middle school can attend. There are speakers on the meaning of the day, usually military and political figures, and an invocation by one of the local preachers. Then the Honor Roll of fallen heroes is read, and it takes a while. Family members sometimes step forward and read the name of their loved one, and occasionally share a memory. I try to attend whenever I can, out of respect for the fallen and their families.

One year, not too many years ago, an old, old woman was seated behind the lectern, sitting in her weelchair, but dressed in her "Sunday best." She had been brought from the local nursing home to participate in the ceremony that day as one of the family members who came to remember their dead. She was frail, and on oxygen, and she struggled to stand when the time came to read the name of her lost soldier. She told us that when she was a little girl, her father had gone away to fight in World War I. She remembered lying in bed at night and taking comfort in hearing his footsteps, solid and heavy, as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. One night, after she had gone to bed, she heard his footsteps in the hall for the last time. He came into her room that night and told her that he was leaving for France, that he had to go away for awhile, and that he loved her very much. He never came back. He died in the Meuse-Argonne. As a little girl, she said, all the while he was gone, and even after she learned that he was dead, she would listen for his footsteps in the hall. And now, she told us, as she lived out her last days alone in a nursing home, after a lifetime of tending her family and raising her children, she would still sometimes try to catch the sound of his footsteps as she went to sleep. A long and full lifetime later, longer and richer than most, she still missed her father and, at times, wept for his loss. And she wept then, as she read his name.

posted by Special Forces Alpha Geek at 2:52 AM