“What is one thing you hated when you served in the US armed forces?”

Sometimes, there is never a simple answer because the question brings back too many memories…

The day I received my DD-214.

This sounds odd, I know, but those of us who have sat waited, reviewed, and received that one important piece of paper can appreciate the finality it represents.

There were many things I outright detested while I was on active duty:

In general,

The ignorance behind the “garrison versus combat” mentality. Whatever happened to “train like you fight?” If it’s not important enough for combat operations, combat training, or deployment to a combat zone, then call it what it is: unnecessary bureaucracy to revel/wallow/root in.

The day before deployment. One can never get enough “last ‘fill-in-the-blank’” before leaving, and that impending reality is miserable.

Staff duty. Sure, stay up all damn day and night and then drive home… no problem, but if you have less than 8 hours’ rest before driving 3 hours, your leave form is going to be too high of a risk and kicked back.

Two certain SFC’s. For some reason – probably a combination of attrition and location of my last duty station – we were plagued by two of the absolute worst individuals to wear the rank of Sergeant First Class. With the exception of a heinous excuse for a S-1 NCOIC in 2005, I have been lucky enough to proudly serve with exceptional SFC’s. Not these two.

Aviation specific (not abbreviated… you don’t understand, it’s not meant for you),

CCI’s in the rain. In Hawaii. On a bird that is going to straight into phase when it gets to Alaska. “Caked red dirt or rust? Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking raining and I’m putting CPC on wet metal.”

“But my last SI/FI never taught me that…” Whiner. He did, but you suck at being a crewchief.

“I lost my flight records…” Lame whiner. I already contacted your Stands shop – I worked with the SI back in Campbell. He said you suck at being a crewchief.

Piss and bleed. Had to do that twice as a result of actions I had no control over, no matter how much I “practiced advocacy and assertion.”

Jackass MTP’s. Yeah, if the tail rotor PC rods are incorrectly broken down for shipment, there is no possible way for the blades to be unfolded 180 ̊ opposite from where the outboard pressure plate shows… No… but… Okay, sir – you got it (but you could have noticed that before we torqued everything down).

Proseal. ‘Nuff said.

The lack of institutional consistency. When I started flying, the Cypress crash in 1995 was determined to be the result of an incorrect identification of PCL’s during an emergency procedure (GG rotors were problematic back then). Right before I left, it was described as a “transient droop issue” which made no sense. It seems that people are as determined to recreate events from Flight Fax as Hollywood is in remaking movies that should be just left alone.

I could go on and on, but I can feel my blood pressure rising.

All that being said, I still maintain that the day I got my DD-214 was the day that I realized that none of the stuff that I thought sucked – and all of the stuff that didn’t – would ever have to be personally experienced again…

No more hair-raising dust landings at 3am, with a disk halo bright enough to read by.

No more casual waves to the folks in the convertible going south along U.S. Route 280 as we pace them doors open at 200’ while waiting for the “bring it” call during “Rangers in Action.”

No more legendary AAR’s where the student’s atrocious grade slip is broken down piece by piece and reassembled into the foundation of an effective crewmember.

No more “I think I have that part in my helmet bag” and actually having the exact part needed (we went through a lot of pressure switches and fire detectors in a couple units).

No more “ropes out,” “load is off the ground,” “target in sight – engaging,” “we’re glad you didn’t break station – we didn’t have enough to hold back the Third Mongolian Horde that was going to descend upon that village for sure” or “JP is in the water… WHOA! Whale! Cabling up! Cabling up! Cabling up!”

Most importantly, no more camaraderie during the best of times and the worst of times. Good or bad, the experiences brought folks together… regardless of political affiliation, identity politics, or the fact that they managed to make it through 20 years and never learned how to play Spades.

Yeah, I miss it, and yeah, that day sucked.