Surprises

The problem with unexpected things is that you never know how to react, because of course, you never expected to be in that situation in the first place. And I know that sounds pretty obvious, but for the most part I don’t think anyone is ever really surprised past a certain point in their lives, a given age, or accumulation of experience. Everyone resorts to standard operating procedures to reduce any bizarre occurrence to its basic, previously experienced themes. But every now and then, we are taken completely off guard. These are the kinds of events that get you killed, or in day to day situations, confused, hurt, angry, frustrated, surprised, etc. In the military, just about everything you could ever expect has been thought of, planned out, war-gamed, adjusted, demoed, exercised, and written down. There is almost nothing for which a clear and concrete doctrine is not published, outlining in exact detail the standard reaction which you are to follow.

Weapon drills are the earliest building block of this kind of thinking that soldiers are exposed to. The core of any military force is the individual soldier and his service battle rifle. With this standard arm, the soldier can defeat the enemy and defend himself, and given this importance he must know the weapon intimately and be able to expertly operate it in under any conditions, most commonly the stress and confusion of battle, and quickly remedy any stoppage that occurs. When a soldier’s rifle ceases to function the enemy stops dying and his comrades begin to. Only a few weeks into basic training, when recruits can still barely dress themselves correctly, they begin to have the drills for the service rifle beaten into their heads. Failing the handling test is possibly the surest and simplest way to cease being a soldier and end up back on the streets selling pencils. Everyone remembers the call of the instructor, “Weapon fires, weapon stops!” and the immediate, unconscious canting of the rifle left to verify the position of the bolt.

This training continues with each new weapon system that is introduced to a soldier, so that reactions become completely automatic and that nothing short of a catastrophic failure can take the soldier and his weapon out of the fight.

And frankly, I think it’s a failure of both society and the public education system that we as people don’t receive this kind of training. How many times have you caught yourself or your friends lamenting indecisively over some difficult situation; a break-up, unemployment, depression, existential crisis, etc, and you just wanted to scream at yourself, or them, and get on with your life. It should be that easy, we should all snap to attention, analyze the situation, and react appropriately; feel sad for a week, go out to a bar, meet new member of opposite sex, bang! print resumes, hit street, find work, bang! start working out, switch up your routine, smile, bang! read a lot of Camus and Sartre, realize those old French bastards didn't know anything more about the world than you do, take a trip, get the fuck over it, bang!

But I suppose that would take all the fun out of life, not to mention all the fear, grief, frustration, and other amazing emotions that really are the core food groups of the human soul. Now I like to think that I have seen and experienced a lot of weird stuff, and that I’m pretty well rounded and capable, at least in that I can usually sort myself out whenever I encounter a new weird experience and keep moving on, but I learned this weekend that I really have no fucking clue how to react when you run into a stripper who is the spitting image of a girl you once seriously considered marrying, at the single, ridiculous, hidden away secret strip club in Fredericton that your buddies tricked you into going to.

So, that was pretty much the weekend. I have to be up for PT in a few hours, but I’m not sleepy and just lying on my bunk. I can’t help but laugh that the first time I ever went to a strip club it was by trickery, and that in the middle of this nasty place filled with hideous people, the one good looking employee was a startling and gorgeous clone of the last girl I dated. The world is a strange place, and thank gawd, because otherwise what the hell would we have to talk about on Monday?

We may be lonely but at least we’re laughing out here.