Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Chapter 18: I Am, I'm Me

Private First Class Robert E. Kiskaden, 6th Battalion, 43rd Air Defense Artillery.  June 1993.
 I saw a poster in the barracks lobby one night, it said "Army:  Be all you can be."  This was the Army motto then, and I stopped and just stared at it that particular night.  I asked myself, "Am I really all I can be?"  I didn't have an answer for my thought as I wandered out to hit the town.  By now, the group I ran around with had formed a cohesive camaraderie.  We would walk down to the Goose 10-20 at a time, a show of force to be reckoned with. Inside the club, we stayed close, if one person in the group got in trouble, the whole bunch would stand up for him and promptly take care of a situation.  We always had an after party back at Shipton too, usually picking out people to come with us from the Goose.  By the time we would leave, the group would usually grow to about 30 people staggering in the front gate.  HHB's second floor would then become a block party.  We had some regular people starting to hang out with us, usually German girls; Martina, Tanja, Nelly, one we called Annie, and a few others would be there every weekend.  No one usually said a word about our parties or how loud they became because usually, everyone was there.
In May 1993, Harold and I caught wind of a Metallica concert that was going to be in Nurnberg on a Sunday when we weren't going to be in the field.  Michalea got our tickets and Sal would be our driver.  It would be an awesome change of pace for me, I had already seen Metallica back home in Louisville and they were one of my favorite bands.  European concerts are much different than US concerts.  They are mostly held outside and huge crowds attend, so this would be an experience.  The day of the concert, we all got ready and started out, but first, we had to make a stop at a party near Barton Barracks at the soldier housing complex.  We got to the party just to make a short appearance before we trekked to Nurnberg, the place was crowded.  Butler, Anderson and a couple others were singing a version of a song called The End of the Road, because the party was on behalf of someone leaving the unit and going back to the States.  I found out where the beer was and was good to go, drowning down 17 before we left.
I was pretty numb when we left for the concert and don't recall much of the trip.  I do remember getting stopped on the Autobahn at some point.  We were stuck in a gridlock and the urge hit me.  I jumped out of Sal's car and ran off to the side of the road to relive myself, hoping traffic didn't start moving.  I staggered back to the car, tripping over a guardrail and banging my leg up.  I laughed it off because it was funny, but I was sure it would hurt like hell later.  After about an hour, traffic started moving slowly again, eventually we saw what the problem was.  A car had hit an overpass and nearly split in half.  The Autobahn has a reputation of being the ultimate speedway. For the most part, there isn't a speed limit on the Autobahn, but generally it is 130 km/hour, or 80 miles per hour in some areas.  This makes for some spectacular crashes, as we saw on the way to Nurnberg.
We arrived at Nurnberg's Zeppelinfeld, a large outdoor stadium with large marble and stone entrances and walls that reminded me of a Roman coliseum.  This stadium was where the famous Nazi rallies were held and a landing site for the Graf Zeppelin and Hindenburg in the 1930's.  We could hear the first band, Suicidal Tendencies, already blazing through their set, the delay on the Autobahn was to blame for that.  My buzz was starting to wear off and the May heat was starting to beat down on me as I walked into the gate.  Inside the gate, a vast sea of people were packed in, the stage was far off ahead of us.  We made our way to a spot to sit down just as Suicidal Tendencies closed their set.  This was by far the most people I had ever seen in one place; upward of a hundred thousand or so people. It was awesome to see but a bit intimidating at the same. We found a beer stand and grabbed drinks and a gyros from a food stand next to it and settled in for the rest of the show.  The Cult was going to be the next band to perform, I only knew one of their songs called Fire Woman that had been a radio hit back home a year or so before.  Once The Cult got onstage, they were far from the band I heard on the radio.  The singer was struggling through the opening song and hanging onto the microphone stand limply.  After a few songs, the crowd began getting restless and hostile, tossing items onto the stage.  Finally after a few minutes of that, the crowd began to boo loudly, prompting the band to leave the stage early.  There's nothing like the sound of a hundred thousand Germans booing a band off stage.
Harold and I made up our mind we were going to get closer to the stage for Metallica's performance.  We noticed the crowd had started to thin out near the stage and we made our move.  We got part of the way to the stage then stopped in a mass of people.  Harold decided to go around to see if there was a better way forward, but nothing.  We were closer to the stage but still pretty far off than what we wanted to be, then just as we stopped to gather a new plan, the familiar opening music The Ecstasy of Gold boomed over the PA speakers and the crowd surged forward.  Harold and I got separated by the crowd but I kept moving forward.  The mass of people pushed forward in anticipation of Metallica taking the stage, and once they did, it was pandemonium.  The band segued into their song  Creeping Death and the crowd was furiously pumping their fists in the air to the beat.  The bass boomed into my chest and I had to get closer somehow.  I made some forward progression, even tripped over a couple who were wrapped in a blanket being...intimate.  Metallica had a stage at this concert that extended out into the crowd a bit and the area around that extension was called The Snake Pit.  In order to be in that area, you had to have a special arm band, of which I did not have.  So I wandered over to another area closer to the barricade, still within arm's length of the stage, but was stopped by a large group of people who weren't budging.  I was so close, yet so far away....I had to think of something quick.  When I got to Germany, I was issued the Geneva Convention Card, which identified me as a medic.  The card had two red crosses and a photo of me on it with some information, so I pulled it out of my wallet and flashed it to the people in front of me.  The crowd parted and let me through surprisingly, all the way to the barricade.  "Holy crap, it worked," I said to myself, but then the greed of the moment started taking over.  I wondered since that ploy worked so well, why shouldn't I get into The Snake Pit and blend into the crowd?  I started heading to the area cordoned off, flashing the card to everyone in my way.  It was working!!  I got to The Snake Pit's barricade and a guy tapped a security guy's shoulder and pointed at me.  The security guy looked at me and started to wave me on in, but another security guy, who was obviously American, asked to see my card.  I quickly flashed it in front of him, but he motioned for me to hand it over.  I complied and he looked at the front and back, then handed it back to me with a smirk and a "nice try, buddy." I felt a little dejected but still excited that I had made it that far on a ruse.
I had my camera with me and took a few pictures, but from my vantage point, I couldn't get a good shot of anything, but I was set in for the duration.  I wondered what had happened to Harold and if I would ever get back to Sal's location, but didn't want to miss the show from my spot.  I was completely sober by this point, so I really enjoyed the show Metallica was putting on. After about two and a half hours, the show was over and people started filing out of the area.  I strayed behind, looking for any guitar picks that may have been tossed out by the band and missed.  Luckily, I found one near the barricade and quickly stashed it in my pants pocket.  Now came the inundating task of finding Sal, Harold and the others.  I wandered back to where the beer stand was that I had stopped at earlier, but didn't see anyone I knew.  I stayed in that spot for a little while until the crowd thinned out more, then started toward the gate, growing a bit concerned.  I got outside the gate and stopped, hoping to see anyone in our posse.  This was before the day of cell phones, so I had no way to communicate with anyone.  Finally, I heard someone yell my name and I looked over and saw Harold with Sal and the bunch.  I fell asleep on the ride back to Ansbach, we got back to Shipton around 130 am.  I was exhausted but it was a great day all around.
German weather is much like Kentucky's, just without the humidity.  It could be freezing cold during PT then 70 degrees by noon formation.  One thing constant was that it rarely got hotter than 75 degrees, but when it got cold, it really got cold.  We were tasked out for a field assignment one day in late May, early June. It was blustery and rainy the day of the deployment, far different than the back home version of the season.  We woke up the next morning to find a fresh blanket of snow had fallen on the field site...wait...snow? I couldn't believe my eyes, but luckily we had our cold weather gear with us because of the previous day.  By noon, the sun had same out and it was warming up.  The snow was gone by early afternoon and it was like a totally different season.  Another thing that springtime didn't bring with it was the thunderstorms like back home.  We had one storm late one afternoon that packed a little punch to it, but nothing like I had seen at home. Field assignments were being a bit more strenuous during this time, all in the preparations for the deployment looming ahead.  As far as the medics, we really didn't have a lot to do for the evaluations that were ongoing, but we stayed occupied doing medic skills.  We always had to be on top of our game, as we were the most visible in the eyes of the Command Sergeant Major and Battalion Commander. 
I was settling into the unit pretty well, was getting along well with everyone in the medic platoon. I started taking my extra duty as publications clerk seriously and totally redid the publications library.  I felt like I had a purpose finally, although it was nowhere near what I had been trained for.  Our aid station at battalion headquarters really didn't see any action aside from the occasional soldier asking for aspirin or Motrin.  One day, I was manning the station by myself and a sergeant walked in and asked me for some "stay black."  Being that he was African-American, I really didn't know how to respond other than laugh and ask for a repeat.  He again asked for "stay black" and pointed at a bottle of skin lotion on the table.  I finally got what he was saying and we both laughed it off.  It was those kind of things that opened my eyes to a world of diversity with all walks of life.  There were no racial boundaries, no defining lines of black, white or any other race.  We were one with each other.  But as in any other situation, there are those that push the limits too far.
One evening I was in the room, Ace and I were watching a Rush concert on TV.  A couple more people stopped in and we were starting to have a few beers.  Suddenly, we heard some yelling and the sounds of a fight in the hallway.  Instinctively, I opened the door to look out and someone pushed me back in.  Roundtree, the soldier who lived next door to us, ran into to the room from the common bathroom we shared and yelled for us to stay in.  It sounded like the entire floor was erupting in a brawl that rivaled any at the Goose.  It sounded like the fight had migrated down the hallway a bit, so I peered out.  It was mayhem, people swinging and flailing around, several solid punches were being tossed about.  One guy looked out his door the same as I did and was dragged out in the hallway and kicked relentlessly.  Someone finally got to him and dragged in into a room.  I quickly closed and locked the door, not wanting to be pummeled.  The fight sounded like it had swelled even bigger and then we heard a pained scream, unlike any we had been hearing.  Someone yelled that a person had been stabbed and it was chaos.
By then, the duty sergeant had came in and tried to intervene, and after a minute or so we could hear some more louder voices yelling for people to get down on the ground.  I peered out again to see military police pushing people against the walls and parting the mob.  On the floor, one soldier was lying down holding his left side.  As a medic, I instinctively went to go assist him, but was ordered back in the room.  People were lying around bloody, scraped up and still cursing each other.  The whole issue was surreal to me, that this could be happening at all.
The melee finally dissipated and several soldiers were arrested. The stabbing victim was hauled off for further treatment at the krankenhaus by someone.  The barracks were put on full lock down, meaning no one could leave or visit.  The duty sergeant had guards who were not on gate duty patrol the hallways throughout the night.  I think everyone slept uneasy that night, not knowing if anyone would try to retaliate.  The next morning, we were dreadful of Captain Taylor's take on all of this.  Our PT session was like basic training, very relentless and pushed us each to the point of collapsing.  The eight o'clock formation turned into a tirade by Captain Taylor.  Apparently there were two soldiers who were in rival gangs back at their home cities, one being African-American, the other being Puerto Rican.  This sparked an intense fight, one that had been brewing for sometime.  Each side had recruited their own gang members making this a bad situation from the start.
"I cannot believe that my soldiers of HHB could act like common vigilantes,"  Captain Taylor began.  Everyone stood at ease, not a sound could be heard.  He went on telling us we were to be under lock down with bed checks and everything at a certain hour, a curfew would be imposed.  This was to be in effect for everyone until the command staff determined exactly who was involved.
"Anyone involved in this brawl will be punished under the articles of the UMCJ to the fullest extent,"  the captain continued.  That meant even innocent people who got dragged into the fight would be punished, which none of us thought was fair.  The next several days were very tense to say the least in the barracks, but no other incidents happened.  Eventually, the soldier who was stabbed recovered and several others received Article 15's of varying degree.  Truly not a good time in HHB Barracks.
After a couple of weeks, the heat of the brawl had blown over.  Those who were involved in the organization of the fight were separated, some even sent to other units, and things got back to normal.  I was glad I was liked by most everyone and the 'party guy', no one messed with me at all.  I was starting to make friends outside of Shipton, one guy was named Jurgen who was German and liked the same music as me.  I would see him and some others he ran with at Hai Life often, usually drinking into oblivion.  Milt, who was one of the guys from the barracks, got involved with Anja, a girl who was friends with Jurgen and the others.  We'd all hang out downtown and eventually stagger back to the barracks.  It was fun times, indeed and a welcome change from the military world.
Nights at the Goose were always entertaining; fun times, good people, loud music...and the fights.  I was at the Goose with the guys one night and some guys from Katterbach were giving someone with us a hard time.  Allison, the brute he was, intervened and backed the assailants off, for a moment.  The night went on and these guys kept prodding someone for a fight and were obviously tanked up on liquor.  Allison got in one guy's face and backed him close to the door.  Once there, he gave a hearty shove and the Katterbach guy went sailing out on his ass.  This prompted his buddies to jump Allison and some of our guys to jump them.  Soon the scene was much like the barracks brawl and spilled outside.  There must have been twenty or more that were involved, people who weren't even part of the initial fight got involved.  Someone called the local police, or poliezi, and the MP station and soon after there were blue lights everywhere.  The poliezei just stood back and watched as the fight wore on.  Allison was punching wildly and hit a guy with such force, he collapsed in a heap. The guy's girlfriend jumped in and clawed Allison's now bare back, and he swung around blindly, hitting the girl square in the face.  He was like a man possessed when the MP's showed up, so they immediately targeted him.  It took three men to tackle Allison down, and as they were handcuffing him, I sneaked back into the Goose out of sight.  I ordered a beer and went outside to the patio to escape the madness.  Later on, I learned that Allison got an Article 15 for hitting an MP and reduced in rank to private.
Personally, I was quite content being single.  I didn't try to hit on every girl who came my way like some of the guys.  Most of them treated girls like pieces of meat and trophies.  I talked to many girls, bought them drinks, but really only wanted someone from the opposite sex to talk to.  Plus I liked to drink too much and that had already caused a rift with one potential girlfriend.  If things happened, they happened and it was just what it was and nothing more, but I treated them respectfully.  Around June, I started noticing one particular girl who was always at the Goose and our parties.  She and I made eye contact often, but I didn't really go up to her for a long while.  Finally, one night at the Goose, I pointed at her and blurted out, "what's your name?"  She blushed and told me her name was Monika, or Moni as she liked to be called.  Rather than moving on with the usual amenities that followed when someone is interested in another person, I replied with, "cool," and walked on by.  The rest of the night we kind of flirted with each other but that was it, I never asked for a number nor did she ask anything of me.  Moni would reappear often, and we always had that playful, flirty chemistry, but I wasn't ready for anything to go further.
Sergeant First Class Bechtel, who had recently been promoted to this rank from staff sergeant, gathered the medic platoon together during sergeant's time one Thursday and told us we had new field assignments and partners.  Some of the medics were leaving the unit soon and we had to fill slots.  Prior to this, we were just assigned to line units as needed.  I had been in the field twice with Charlie Battery and more times with HHB.  I also did range duty for Delta Battery once with Peschke in Erlangen, which was near Nurnberg.  My new assignment would be with Bravo Battery, meaning anytime they were mobilized or deployed, I would go with them.  My medic partner was Martinez, a Hispanic guy from Laredo, Texas.  Martinez was funny as hell and always cracked off hand jokes that made one laugh regardless if the punch line was funny or not.  We got along good aside from the cultural differences we had; like I said, the Army was, and still is, very culturally diverse.  We went to Bravo's barracks and met with the first sergeant and commander.  First Sergeant Franklin greeted us first.  He was a rather large African-American guy who spoke with a slow drawl.  He asked us right off the bat if we "had plenty of that cough medicine, cause I get that field cough out there."  We assured him we would have it.  He then looked at my name tag and asked, "soldier, how the heck do you say that name?"  I told him and he said, "that's too much to remember, so you will be called Kiss from now on."  We met Bravo's commander, Captain Reynolds, who was a stocky lady with a short haircut and kind of looked a little manly.  She had very little to say to us and really didn't seem that friendly at all.  We would be the ones that the soldiers of Bravo Battery would come to in times of need, it was a huge responsibility, one not to take lightly at all.
There was another time where, looking back, I could have very easily became a statistic.  I was at Hai Life, Milt, Anja and some of Anja's friends were there too.  Hai Life wasn't that active that night and Milt and I decided to go with the group to a party.  All of us crammed into a small compact car and headed out to who knew where.  We drove for what seemed to be an eternity and ended up in a soccer field in some town.  I could see the television tower from Ansbach far off in the distance, its light blinking away like a beacon.  There was a field party in full swing where we were.  Milt and I were the only Americans there, so we were apprehensive at first.  Anja assured us we were okay and we went into the building next to the field.  As I said before, I carried my camera with me often, this night was no exception. I don't really recall much about the night, but the pictures bring the story to life.  I was around people I that had no idea who they were, out in a strange place away from where I was supposed to be.  I do remember at one point trying to find a place to lay down and the room I went into was full.  The last thing I remember at all was drinking with some people around a bonfire.
I woke up the next morning freezing and wet from the dew, much like I did behind Shipton that one time.  I was kind of confused about my surroundings, I didn't recognize anything in the morning light.  I saw some tents dotting the field and the building, but where I woke up was pretty much in the middle of the soccer field.  The first time I woke up like this after my run in with the Mad Dog 20-20 should have frightened me, but it didn't.  This was an exception.  For the first time, I was scared.  I walked into the building to find several people, none of whom I knew or remembered, sleeping in little huddles.  All I could remember is that I started out the night with Milt and Anja, but they were nowhere to be seen. I didn't really want to go tent to tent to find them because I had no idea who I was dealing with and sure didn't want to upset anyone I didn't know.  Now, my mind wandered on how I was going to get back to Shipton.  It was approaching 0630 and my wet clothes were sticking to me, causing me to shiver.  I stopped for a minute and looked around as a last ditch effort to remember where I was.  Far off, I saw the Ansbach tower and that jogged my memory.  Slowly some things started becoming clearer....The tip to Hai Life, the sight of the tower lights blinking far off in the distance and the bonfire.  Other than that, I didn't recall much more.  I thought about walking back to Shipton, but this looked much farther than the walk into town I was used to.  I went back into the building and found a space in the floor near the heater and laid down.  I dosed back off to sleep but was woke up a little while later when people started milling about. Soon, Milt and Anja showed up much to my relief.  My head was pounding and all I wanted to do was get warm and sleep.  We had someone take us back to Shipton around 0900 hours, I payed attention on the trip back in an effort to see where we had been, which was a town called Herrieden.
We got back to Shipton and I parted ways with Milt and Anja.  I lumbered up the steps to the second floor and ran into one of the guys in the kitchen area who told me I had a visitor who waited on me by my door almost all night.  I was intrigued to find out who but he wouldn't tell me, just said, "I had her come stay in my room til you got back."
I went to the guy's room and there was Moni, sleeping in the spare bunk.  Why in the world had she waited on me?  Moni woke up and had little to say to me, other than telling me in her broken English how she fell asleep by my room's door waiting to hang out with me.  I was flattered, but still felt horrible from drinking all night and made little more conversation.  I'm sure I came across as a total ass to her, but at that time, all I wanted to do was sleep.  Moni left and I retreated back to my room to sleep it off...again.
I walked by that poster in the lobby everyday.  Everyday, I saw that saying, "Be all you can be."  I wondered if I was really all I could be.  All I knew was one thing at that point in my life, I am....I am me....but was it who I wanted to be?