And One Day…At Redneck Camp….

Back in Iraq, the redneck, good-ol-boy company I worked for would have an “employee of the month” and a “safety star” recipient each month. I never won either of those distinctions – go figure. (Partly it had to do with me being a chick and having red hair and a Master’s. I kept telling them that I drove a truck, bow hunted, and have been known to drink Busch beer on occasion, but the other qualifications cancelled out whatever redneckedness I had.)

Anyhoo, I was just going through some of my old files and found one of the nominations I made for the safety star award one month. When I first got to my camp there were a LOT of dogs there. They were all very cute little puppies – and many of them were pets for the soldiers of the 101st. But then, the 101st rotated out and we got conventional army people and the commander decided that all these dogs were “vectors for disease.” So, one of the guys I worked with joined the team to eradicate these vectors from the AO. That was the basis for my “nomination.” Here is the submission I made:

“I hereby nominate Tracy XXX.
He is nearly single-handedly saving us from the roaming litters of desert puppies that do represent a clear and present danger. A case in point, while driving around Q-West (and around and around and around, like some desert NASCAR speedway), my redneck partner, Dave, stopped to photograph examples of the less treacherous sites of the desert. As Dave carefully focused his camera on what he claimed was a passive and harmless bunker the desert pups attacked. Before he could offer any resistance, the desert pups had him surrounded, rabidly digging their razor sharp incisors into his ankles like a school of half starved piranhas buzzing their chainsaw jaws about Dave’s legs and feet. Bravely, Dave tried to reassure me by giggling hysterically throughout the vicious assault, though I knew this was but an act. Reacting quickly, I slid into the driver's side of the redneck tank, calling to Dave to drag his now bloody stumps to the vehicle and make good our escape. Still giggling like a schoolgirl suffering her first crush, Dave managed to break free of the yipping mass of dog fur and roll into the passenger's side as I jammed the accelerator to floor leaving the pack of voracious beasts in a blue cloud of heavily leaded, environmentally unfriendly exhaust. A harrowing escape to be sure, but such is the life of adventurers. Luckily, our Tracy XXX is ridding Q-West of such dangerous, disease infested vermin. He is truly a safety Star hero!!”

PS: He didn't win.