There, I said it. Enjoy your festive day of stuffing and gourging yourselves on bird meat, dry bread, smashed taters, and whipped pumpkin in a pie crust! (This is my attempt at snark, so DON'T BITCH OR ELSE!!!)

But let's also remember those who don't have anything and are homeless and starving, those who are still looking for work, and those estranged from their families as well as seperated from them.

Happy Thanksgiving and let's love one another.

I've have watched several days of coverage of the tragedy at Fort Hood, and I have said a silent ritual for all of the soldiers and civilians who were hurt and/or killed. Why did I do this on my own? For many reasons.

I do this because I am a former National Guardsman who has been to Fort Hood for Field training. My unit was connected with the 49th Armored Division. I enlisted in The Texas Army National Guard base at Camp Mabry in January 1984. By March of that year, I was issued a uniform and went on my first weekend training session to Fort Hood. In June, my platoon went to Fort Hood to begin their two week training. I was not among them because I had left to begin basic training at Fort Dix in New Jersey. I had chosen the split training option that allowed me to go to basic training that year, and then go train for my designated occupation of Petroleum Supply Specialist. In other words, Army Gas Man!

I came home in August and continued to go to Camp Mabry every month. Several of those monthly drill weekends included training at either Fort Hood or at another TXARNG base. Then in June 1985, I was gone again, this time to Fort Lee in Virginia. I was trained on the standard tanks and fuel bladder protocol and safety, taught how to maintenance portable fuel pumps, and learned about new equipment that the regular Army had that the Guard and Reserve wouldn't get for several years. I graduated with honors and come back home in August of 1985. It would be another year before I was
with my buddies to join them in Fort Hood. I was given a tour of Hood in June of 1986. It is a city like no other but on a military base. The majority of personnel were soldiers, but it also had civilians who worked there as well as housing for families and schools. There was even a facility for those who wanted to go to college and went there when they were off duty.

Sometimes I wondered if I made a mistake by not going active duty. The Post Exchange was like the mall that dreams are made of. What you bought at exuberant prices at a regular mall, you got for less at the PX. You also had a fully equipped hospital and a few clinics around the area. Movie theatres, clubs for officers and enlisted personnel, even fast food places were there. But where I would be training would be far from all of that. In fact, it was in a remote area where I and my platoon would be putting what we had learned to use in a battlefield situation. I would be sleeping in a tent with 18 other men (and several of them snored!), pulling guard duty
at night, suffering under 110 degree heat during the day and sweated like mad. And it got worse after a rainstorm when the muggy heat wanted to make you go batshit crazy! Speaking of crazy, I must have been crazy to do this. But it made me a better man.

I was in the National Guard from 1984 to 1992. Eight years of service and went to Fort Hood for six of those years. In 1991, I went there twice in the summer. In June for my regular training and in July to train personnel about field station operations and management. To me, Fort Hood was a great base. It was my main base. We were trained there and we were prepared to assume duties there if and/or when a major attack or incident took place. If we had to stay there, then everything we needed was there at our disposal. We were on standby when the first Gulf War (Desert Shield and Desert Storm) was launched. As short of the time was taken, we were relieved that we didn't have to go there.

June 1992 was my last Summer session with the National Guard. On the last day of what we termed Summer Camp. We went to a recreation area at Camp Mabry. I said my last good-byes to everyone I have served with and served under. I even hated to say good bye to my platoon officer who wound up being a good friend. Last time I saw him was at a parade January 1993. He went active duty and had been promoted to Captain of the Supply Unit at Fort Hood. We did meet up after the parade, and he was trying his damnest to get me to reenlist and join up with his unit. He needed an experienced supply sergeant and was willing to move heaven and earth to get me a quick promotion to not only is his sergeant, but his assistant as well. I thanked him for his confidence in me, but declined it because I was burned out and had a lot of things going on in my life.

I was proud to be a member of The Texas Army National Guard and even prouder still to train at Fort Hood. My heart goes out to all the soldiers who were hurt and to the families of the soldiers who were killed.