All hail the Signal Corps!

An email went out this week from our higher headquarters with two rather odd attachments: an .mp3 file and lyrics to the US Army Signal Corps Regimental song. The email came from a high-ranking Sergeant Major, who passed on word from other even higher-ranking Sergeants Major that every Soldier in the Signal Corps must know the lyrics and tune for official ceremonies and the like -- and even exorted leaders to ensure that we are all practiced. I just learned that our subordinate company formations -- in a "combat zone," mind you -- will now practice two days a week.

{insert facepalm here}

Every Soldier knows the Army Song, and we sing it at official ceremonies. I confess that after my first 11 years as a Signal officer, I never knew there were lyrics until last year, when I arrived at this unit and overheard two younger troops singing it loudly to their First Sergeant. Whenever I hear it, I make up words in my head to the very Sousa-esque tune: "We are the Signal Corps, if you don't like it, you can kiss our ass," over and over again. Keeps me awake at ceremonies, anyway.

No other Army branch would dare to be so gay as to even have a song -- other than the Field Artillery, but theirs is just the Army song with lyrics about cannons and howitzers, as if there were a difference -- much less make everyone sing it. Not only that, but our leaders apparently expect us to know it sober! Manly branches like Armor or Infantry don't do such things, unless of course there are copious amounts of adult beverages being consumed first. Our song is kinda catchy, but it's no Ballad of the Green Beret. And I can't freakin' get it out of my head now.

If the Military Intelligence Corps had a song, it would of course be Secret Agent Man, which, many years ago during my training to be a Counterintelligence Special Agent (no kidding), I once attempted to sing at a karaoke bar with a bunch of my classmates. Everyone was drunk so it didn't matter that we didn't know the lyrics, which is pretty much the point of karaoke anyway. Good times.

Which brings me to another, somewhat salient point. Most people who know me ask why I didn't become an MI officer. I told them that the one thing I learned at OCS was that everyone wants to be either Infantry or MI, because they think they're the sexiest branches of the Army -- they think that Infantry is all about killing bad guys, which it pretty much is, and that MI is all cloak-and-dagger, which it most certainly is not. Well that, and I also learned how to sleep standing up. We also used to sing the OCS song every night before bedtime, but I would be hard pressed to sing even the first line of Benning School for Boys (its original title) nowadays. OK, maybe the second line escapes me.

I told the Sergeant Major in our higher HQ that I would gladly express my displeasure to the Chief of Signal the next time he is in town -- but only after I hear him sing it.

Another FAIL pic

Seems to be a running theme lately. Several weeks ago, this water truck struck and killed 10 camels (10 camels! Ah, ah, ah...) on a road up in the northern desert country. Or as I prefer to call it, the Great Sea of Nothing. I think the driver survived, only to pay through the nose for killing the white camels, which are rarer.

I ran, I ran so far away

I added another t-shirt to my drawer with my first-ever triathlon today -- 400m swim, 12k bike, 3k run.  Final time was 48:29, and I took second in road bike division!  Interesting way to celebrate Easter.

The first-place winner of my division was a 25-year-old, young punk Sergeant from my unit who caught me on the run and beat me by a minute.  I would have given him a run for his money if I hadn't taught spin class on Friday night, hadn't guzzled a sugar-free Red Bull ten minutes before my heat started, if I didn't completely foul up the swim-to-bike transition (3:22 is way too long), or if the pool wasn't three degrees cooler than boiling. (Bo [head lifeguard], if you're reading this -- 88 degrees was way too hot, brother!  Especially when it was 72 when I practiced earlier in the week.  I think I saw some TCN's dumping vegetables and raw chicken in after the last heat.)  

Whatever the cause, I literally almost passed out in the water halfway through the swim and never could get my breathing under control for the rest of the race.  I still managed to get out of the water a full two minutes ahead of everybody, and on the first lap on the bike I noticed my jersey was on backwards so I turned it around.  Thank God no one got a picture of that.

You have to admit the misspelling on the plaques is priceless.

For any Russian-speaking Xians out there:  Иисус воскрес.

Star trekkin' across the universe

Today we were treated to a special screening of the eleventh Star Trek movie, a month before its release in the States.  Now, I've never blogged a movie review, and I've never been one to give away movie plots when I know no one else has seen them.  But oh, what the hell -- SPOILER ALERT:  all the good guys live in the end of this one and, equally as predictable, the first no-name red uniform guy dies a horrific death.

The new Star Trek movie was an absolutely riveting event to remember.  The main actors came and visited as well as the director, J.J. Abrams.  They were all graciously cool, and came in after the show for a Q&A and a few pics and autographs.  I got to shake hands with the new Kirk, Chris Pine (he said "Hey thanks, brother!"), and got a pic with the new Sulu, John Cho (from the Harold & Kumar movies).

The movie was by far the best one yet -- definitely better than any of the cheesy Star Wars prequels (I'm lookin' at YOU, Jar-Jar Binks)  -- and certainly should prove to be a huge hit even for the uninitiated young'uns who don't even know what a Vulcan mind meld is.  I sat next to a friend and fellow officer who, even though she is in her thirties, had never before seen any of the movies or TV shows -- like, what rock has she been living under all this time, eh?  About half an hour into it, she whispered that she was lost -- in the movie's buildup, you kinda have to know at least some of the original series to appreciate it -- so I told her to savor the moment, and then she was lost in Karl Urban's aura the moment he came on screen anyway.

For those that don't know, this adaptation the mother of all prequels, going back to the very genesis of the whole Star Trek story.  It certainly has the best of everything good about the entire series -- dazzling effects, awesome action, brain-hurting time travel, and even young Kirk gettin' it on with an alluringly green alien.  The actors were all spot-on playing the younger incarnations of all the main characters, and deftly manuevered the great comic banter between Kirk, Bones, Spock, Sulu, Chekov, and even Scotty.  Purists will appreciate the absence of overly large ductworks, but I curiously noted that the starship Enterprise's maiden voyage included no less than five unceremonious changes of command -- like everyone was too eager to give up command of the ship!

The film even had one of my favorite actresses, Winona Ryder, who did a cameo as Spock's mother.  Not her sexiest role -- alas, her character only has three lines and doesn't live long or prosper.  And I was disappointed to see that Winona didn't come to the screening.  If you're reading this, Winona, call me.

And if either of my sons are reading this, you are forbidden to see this movie until I get home!  Well OK, maybe just once.

I'm sure James Doohan and Gene Roddenberry are smiling somewhere, toasting over Romulan ale. 

Arifjan movie theater sign FAIL