Torch Party Part 2...

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Sometimes I am the luckiest person in the world! This time I drew the best cards in the deck and ended up with the funnest logistics team that could be assembled for a short term mission. The “Torch” was not only comprised of the positions I talked about a few weeks ago but also my team. The logisiticians were half of the work party, with six of us being represented in specialized positions. I should probably say that the positions were specialized but we were not. We all came from backgrounds that were very different than what we were sent early to Camp Atterbury for.

My partner in crime who worked side by side with me is as close to an army best friend that I have ever had. He is what I would call “logistics clever” and seemed to be the man with all the answers all the time. His entire mission was to assist me in becoming smart about the military supply arena and to teach me everything I would need to know about how to do the job correctly and not by the seat of my pants. Well needless to say I was a difficult student, but he stuck with me to the very end.

We started our mission a few days before any units began to arrive at Camp Atterbury. It seemed so simple. Find out how to ensure all soldiers received support for everything from food to uniforms, and housing to dumpsters for their garbage. We would have to crack the nut on how to match up all the vehicles to all the radios and then to ensure everyone had enough toilet paper and cleaning supplies. So we began to break the team down so that we could all work with parallel efforts which enabled us to make the best use of our limited time. There never seemed to be enough time in the days, and on most occasions I had to force them to go home at night because they took their mission seriously at all times.

It was so comfortable for us to work “together” instead of by the usual army way of me being their boss and them reacting to my every bossy order. They made me laugh constantly and it’s amazing when you allow soldiers to take control of the situation that they truly are a creative bunch. There was no written plan on how to accomplish the tasks, but sure enough, it all got done.

They unloaded over 45 truckloads of unit equipment that came from 15 or so states, moved thousands of military uniforms and separated them by size, counted hundreds of radio parts for accountability purposes, started a vehicle motor pool and took control of a super big task force worth of hummers, trucks and mini vans. They had the forklifts going day and night and helped each and every unit with setting up their supply systems. It never ended.

My transportation queen was swamped with incoming flights, requesting busses, and continually learning about how the ships were to move and on what days the trains would leave with all the equipment headed for foreign lands. She was wonderful in her efforts of allowing me to assist with the transportation planning since that is probably my first love in all the military jobs I have had the opportunity to be a part of.

So every day we would rise early, get in our minivan and drive all over Camp Atterbury. First stop at the warehouse to see if any equipment shipments came in, then to the linen shop to draw sheets and blankets for the incoming soldiers, over to the mess hall to get the number of soldiers eating that day turned into the cook staff. We would stop for lunch and then back to business of driving military vehicles from one side of the camp to our motor pool for staging purposes. We had meetings with the Camp Atterbury staff, tried to find garbage cans for people, call the plumber to unplug the toilets, schedule units to pick up all the fancy personal army equipment that we would be deploying with.

Helping the units to help themselves was our biggest challenge. Within 24 hours after the units arrived they would have to have their weapons checked to ensure the maintenance was up to date, order food for the next week or so, make sure they had office supplies, request equipment and supplies to take with them for their training out in the field areas and just the overall hassle of trying to get them settled in and into a routine in their new surroundings.

Every once in a while we would drop a box of something insignificant off the forklift and laugh it off, but then there was this one day when… All the high tech printers, copiers and giant plotters came rolling in on a big truck. Sure enough… The Camp Atterbury police called and said that they were guarding a large box that was sitting in the middle of the road. Oh no… I sent my poor Captain over to the site of the potential crime and sure enough when he called back there was silence, then heavy breathing and then he sheepishly muttered, “Ma’am, it’s the plotter”. I instantly got a big tummy ache and tried to think quickly on my feet. I sent the forklift guy out the door, people were looking at me in wonderance of what could it possibly be in the box.

Then the Colonel got wind of the incidence. She grilled me and commandingly insinuated that if it was the plotter she would be ripping me up and spitting me out. My first reaction was to blurt out, “I’m sure it’s just a box of toilet paper!” She just glared at me and then bolted out of the office walking with a serious purpose down the street towards the scene in the middle of the road. I was jogging to keep up with her, so I was out of breathe the entire time I was coming up with other options about what may have happened. She was not a happy camper and I was just digging my way into a big giant hole that there would be no recovery for.

There it was. A big giant plotter sitting in the road. The cardboard had exploded off the ends and the frame that was surrounding the fragile cargo had shattered and it was at that point that I could no longer claim it was simple toilet paper. So it was all hands on deck. The logistics guys loaded up all the pieces and we called the tech dudes in to assemble the plotter in the storage warehouse. We all watched with baited breathe as they hit print for the first time and… there was a sigh of relief as that 5’ x 8’ map printed out. Thank goodness it worked or people would be calling me private French right about now! We learned how to properly secure our truck loads after that.

Mostly the logistics team was just a barrel of fun. Three girls and three boys that worked seamlessly together and endured change, cause many a funny moment and were more reliable than a timex watch. My senior NCO played endless jokes on people, his side kicks would be right in the thick of things when they would be trapped in the hot warehouses where the humidity would just linger in the air, moving vehicles in the cover of darkness and ensuring that they mentored me along the route.

I always knew when they were desperate for help because my team would have a "all hands" round-up for hummer movements from one side of Camp Atterbury to the other side. I would show up all excited because I was going to be able to drive a hummer again. But my soldiers would always come up with the excuse, "Oh Ma'am, we've got enough drivers." I never bought into that. So off we would go to the staging area and those dang sergeants would always want to check the oil and stuff. The first time I couldn't even remember where the darn dip stick was. Then I lost interest and started taking pictures of the other soldiers working and then I forgot to turn my lights on before driving. The best part was trying to take videos while I WAS driving! Needless to say, after the first few movements of vehicles they didn't make announcements about needing drivers anymore.

There were a million ways I wanted to thank them properly, but sometimes the words just escaped me. What they don't understand is that they were the soldiers who were part of something bigger than themselves. We would have never dreamed that the mission of the logisticians would have been so crucial and I could have never dreamed that these six soldiers would have been able to make such a difference in peoples lives when they first hit ground at Camp Atterbury.

I now miss the beeping of the forklift backing up in the warehouse parking lot. I miss the sound of the diesel truck as it coasts by and the crack of the smoke stack that pours out that little bit of polution that has that truck stop smell about it. Mostly, I miss working side by side with these special soldiers who dedicated themselves to helping people find ways to make life a little more comfortable for soldiers.

It's great to be in logistics!

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