Mental Ninja Kick

It was for once actually a glorious day at Fort Huachuca. First of all, I woke up to the sun shining... and I got to sleep in. Sleeping in always makes for a glorious day, let's face it.

Then I was invited to a barbeque at someone's house that I had never really talked to before, but I knew that a lot of my friends would be there. Normally, I would have come up with some kind of lame excuse to not go. Social situations where I don't know the outcome always have me relunctant. But I actually think that being here has made me more comfortable in my own skin almost. I don't have nearly as many awkard moments, amazing I know, basically because I can't counteract them with my mad interrogator skills without even realizing that I'm mentally ninja kicking people. Tricky, I know.

It really was just the best way to spend my day. The people were wonderful. Most of my closest friends from here were there. The food was amazing, especially since it wasn't DEFAC food. And we played cards.... I've missed doing that so much. Just relaxing with friends and family... because a lot of these people are slowly but surely becoming my family. I've got at least 6 new stand in brothers that have my back, and the number is gaining by the day. And at least 4 new stand in sisters. It's a wonderful feeling... and makes me feel a lot better about going to Iraq when I know that I can easily form these bonds over there... and in fact will already have these bonds over there (hiya pops!).

I love you guys and miss you, as always.

<3 Me.

Ok. It's been a wee bit of time. My internet is up until the 27th... but I coerced a friend to lend me hers for the day. I've been running crazy these last couple weeks. Every other day I go into the booth, and every time I head in there I get progressively more nervous but also much better. Right now, they call me the Red Barron of the booth... and I'm not quite sure what they mean by that. But i think it's a good thing... at least I hope it is.

The last booth I had, I was blessed to have my Sgt who is in charge of the class as my detainee. He never goes in the booth. Luckily for me, he made an exception... yeah. lucky for me. He really knows his stuffs, hence the reason he's in charge of sculpting the young minds of hopeful interrogators.

And even though I had talked a lot of smack, something I learned from my days of playing cribbage, when I had found out he would be in my booth. I believe I said something about having him cowering in the corner in fear as he cried like a baby and would be begging for his mommy... He was probably the toughest detainee I've had. He could combat any approach I tried to run on him. But he did congratulate for doing so well. Which, coming from the master, is a pretty high compliment.

Anyways, I love you guys. And I miss you all as always...

<3 Jacki

Hello there from glorious Fort Huachuca. I haven't wrote in the while... and that's mostly because I've been running around like you crazy civilians. In the last four days, I've been to Tuscon 2 times, shopping 4 times, to a hotel 2 times, been to 3 movies (one was 3-D and I have the glasses to prove it), spent X dollars (x is used to conceal the obnoxious amount of money spent in the persuit of fun), been in 6 different vehicles... I could continue but I won't. Basically, I had more fun this weekend than all of AIT combined. I felt normal, well as close to normal as a Crotteau can get.

And I made some new friends along the way. I also met a lot of creeps. Case in point, a lady in trans (trans is what we use to get around or off base. you meet a lot of crazies... especially when you travel after 2200 hours) could hardly get into trans let alone talk without slurring her words. She preceded to rip the trans man's phone out of his hand (say that ten times fast) and make out with him. Mind you, the trans man is nothing to right home about and neither was the drunk lady who had to be at least 50. Was it disturbing, yes. Is it haunting me in my nightmares, most definitely. I actually feared for my life as the driver started to swerve because this old lady was just going at it with him. He tried to push her away, and she slurred "oh sugarrr. you donwanaa to passh this up." I learned my lesson. You leave on trans earlier than 2200 or not at all... unless you want to die in a fiery wreck because of an old lady who doesn't know her liquor limit.

Besides fearing for my life, it was a pretty amazing weekend spent with some of my closest friends down here. In the next week, I'll try to get pictures of each of them so you guys can see who I hang out with in glorious Fort Huachuca. In the picture up there, is me and Savannah Robideau at Coraline in 3-D. I'll tell you about her later. They are all pretty rad, minus when they make fun of me for my "accent" (which I stand firm that I don't have one. They, however, stand firm that I do.), or make fun of me for other things (I think they make fun of me more than some of you guys do. Amazing... I know.) I think you guys would approve of them though.

you will save lives

I would like to take this time to brag freely and openly. I did awesome in the booth today. And by awesome, I mean that I aced my DPR (basically it's a daily report card. at the end of every interrogation, the "detainee" who has morphed back into an OMT (sort of like a teacher) fills it out). I got all A's on my interrogator report card.

Better than that was what the OMT had to say. He told me that it is highly, highly unusual for him to see a student preforming to this degree so early on in the iterations (each interrogation combined with the planning & prep, report writing and OMT time is considered one iteration). He said that it is expected at the earliest the 6th iteration. I just completed my 3rd iteration today.

But my favorite thing today he said was "You will be one of the interrogator's that saves a lot of lives." It was probably the most wonderful thing I've heard. I couldn't stop smiling. Because ultimately, that's the goal of an interrogator. To save the lives of our comrades by collecting information to stop the enemy or at the least, hinder them until we can concoct a plan. I'll be a member of the team that is preventing monuments like the one pictured from happening.

And hearing him saying that I'll reach that goal and better yet that the goal is even within reach right now, is just wonderful. And I had to share the news. Another reason for my excitement could stem from this yearbook comment that was left in my yearbook senior year. It said "The military just isn't my cup of tea. I just hope your saving lives, not taking lives." More than ever, I'm realizing that indeed I will be saving lives and that the boy who wrote that is a "weenie."

Maybe this doesn't make sense, and if it doesn't... I beg of you to ask for some explanation. I would love nothing more than to share what I'm doing with people.

zonk.

I think you will all be incredibly pleased to be informed that glorious Fort Huachuca is expected to be covered in a blanket of snow 5 inches thick. Therefor, we will hopefully be zonked for PT tomorrow, and hopefully the whole day. The term "zonked" has become my new best friend. If an NCO yells zonked, you get the heck out of dodge as fast as possible. If it happens tomorrow, zonked will become my old best friend and sleep will be my new best friend.

And I know what your thinking... aren't you in glorious Fort Huachuca where the sun always shines? Well... contrary to popular belief the sun doesn't always shine. But I think that on zonk day 2009, the sun will probably shine brighter on such a wonderful day. I'll post pictures if it snows. Which it will if the world knows what's good for it...

The wonderful part is even with an inch of snow... the base will probably be shut down anyways. It's not like good ol' St. Francis where it takes a 20 inches of snow for school to even be close to being delayed. I'm pretty sure that glorious Fort Huachuca doesn't even own snow removal equipment. Bunch of freaks. And I'm even more sure that Arizonians don't know how to drive in one inch of snow. Bunch of bigger freaks.

So tonight, I will spend my fireguard praying ever so vigilantly for a zonk day.

aches and pains free of charge

I didn't want to overwhelm my wonderful audience with information yesterday. So I left out a very important detail. Yesterday was my first official day of full battle rattle (see note). I was wonderfully excited to finally be safe from ensuing gun shots that happen ALL the time right here on glorious Fort Huachuca. And by all the time, I mean never. I think we shoot our M-16 once maybe twice while we are down here. But when that time comes, I will most definitely be safe from friendly fire. Except, as you notice that my flak vests only stops shrapnel, not bullets. So I guess I’m back to square one.

I guess the only other thing I can think as to why we where these when we never leave an area no larger than an 5 acres or so, is because we look real cool. And understandably, when I post the pictures, you guys will be jealous. I am going to beg of you now, do not go out and spend money on this gear because I am sorry to inform you that you will not, I repeat, will not… be able to pull this look off nearly as well as I do. You can try, but you are mearly setting yourselves up for failure. *i posted the picture. it just doesn't do the outfit justice. i'm missing my oversized back pack. and also by penis protector. yes. even the girls get to protect their penises. peni? anyways...*

All of the gear ways at least 60 pounds… sometimes more depending on my backpack. Once we get out of booth iterations, we move on to another thing that requires us to walk at least 6-8 miles every day. It will be a wonderful workout that I will learn to hate immediately. It is the newest exercise sensation to sweep Fort Huachuca. Participation is mandatory, aches and pains included free of charge. I’ll post the pictures of me lookin classy probably Monday.

* Full Battle Rattle: A Term used to describe the combat ready uniform to be worn by the war fighter. My uniform is slightly modified, but none the less consists of ACU (Army Combat Uniform), Flak Vest (only stops shrapnel, not bullets), and Kevlar (Helmet that stops most bullets), two canteens, ballistic goggles, and eventually an M-16 in a few weeks. And also my back pack holding my laptop, my notebook, and other assorted “goodies”.

my dad is also a bad butt

My dad just started blogging about his experiences in the military and Iraq. He's a wonderful writer and he's also tag teaming the blog with my mom. Check it out. It's pretty good. And they are pretty awesome.

I'll probably keep them.

booth bad "butt"

First of all, my most sincerest apologies for the lack of blogs. I've been without internet for the last couple weeks... and so much has happened. So it was kind of an unfortunate time for my internet to fail me.

Now that I've made a formal apology, let me just give you a quick recap over the last couple of days. I have officially started booth iterations. AKA death every other day. Or a bettter explanation would be that I am actually conducting interrogations. Me. By myself. There are a ton of steps and a lot of time involved in the process... and I'll try not to bore you guys with the details... but typically nerdy me is really excited about all of this. So I'll probably bore you anyways.

So the first step is called planning and prep. We spend time basically researching and gathering any information we can on the detainee that we will be interrogating so we can find his or her weakness to make them break and spill the beans. We right a couple of reports before we can move on. Basically laying out how we can best smush this person to smithereens.

The next step is the actual interrogation. I'm the first group to go in... and every other day I head in at 8:30 in the morning my time. I set up my booth and I always make sure to pray before the whistle (this is the sound of doom. when the whistle sounds, the torture begins. for both me and the detainee) blows.

The next step is I hear a knock on the door. My heart immediately starts to race. My hands start shaking. I probably look mighty foolish, not that foolishness doesn't come naturally to me anyways.

Then I begin my approaches. Typically, I botch these horribly. You use approaches like love of family or pride and ego down... which probably doesn't mean anything. Think of it as weaknesses. My weakness is my family. Hence the love of family. The person I interrogated today's weakness was his wife. When he was detained, he had her medicine for diabetes on him. So I said things like "Your actions ultimately put your wife in danger. You had her medicine that she desperately needed, and you made the choice to engage in the Samarra Cell. She's probably not very happy with you. But I understand. You were trying to do what you thought was best at the time for you and your family. I respect your intentions. I'm going to try to contact the Red Crescent and see if we can get her that medicine. In turn, I need you to cooperate with me."

Today was a wonderful day to be Jacki. I said all the right things and broke (they started giving me the information I needed my detainee almost instantly. I've never mastered the art of the approaches. Today, I was an approach rockstar.

The next step is the questioning. I have a HUGE book of questions I need to cover (see picture). All within the span of 3 hours. Granted, the stories are probably catered to fit that time frame and when I am in Iraq I could spend days questioning my detainee. But still... so much to cover and so little time.

Then it's time for termination. Which, I usually do pretty good at. You just have to reiterate the approaches you used and the incentives you promised and a bunch of other nonsense. After termination, you go over the "dipr." This is when you find out from the detainee, who has magically switched back to a normal person, what you can improve on and what your overall score is. I think there is 9 different sections you need to pass and you need to get at least 80% of the information. Your not expected to pass until the 5th iteration... I actually passed everything today with flying colors and I'm only on my 2nd interation and I got 89% of the information. I am officially a booth bad "butt". I will except pats on the back at a later time or something cooler.

Then, you right reports. And they are boring. Horrifyingly boring. Fall asleep and hit your head on the key board boring. That bad. It takes about 3 hours of actively fighting sleep to get all of the reports done.

And then... it starts all over. I think my mom used to say "same shit different day." I've never found a more true example...