Dark Helmet

There have been a grand total of two times in my brief military career when I've been the victim of larceny committed by my brethren in uniform. When it occurs, it is I think a deeper psychological blow than common thievery as it occurs in the civilian world. After all, these are the people you must trust with your life. These are people with whom are are supposed to be sharing a common bond; forging intimate ties that have been lauded in literature and lore as being stronger than blood. These are bonds that are supposed to be buttressed by the vaunted Army Values that have been drilled into soldiers from the day we sign on the dotted line: Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity, Personal Courage. It is, of course, true that these are aspirations rather than descriptors of a state of affairs within the military.

The first time was going through reception as a new recruit at Fort Jackson, SC. Even before we'd been issued combat boots, some bottom-feeding low life went through all the lockers in the bay and cleaned out all the cash. I was out $50. Welcome to the Army.

The second time was just a few days ago when my helmet was stolen from my locked humvee in the middle of the afternoon. Now, this strikes me as a particularly egregious offense. In a combat zone, you simply don't swipe another man's armor. You may ask yourself, well... if the humvee was locked, how did they get in? Here is the worst kept secret in the army: Humvee's are notoriously EASY to get into. They have to be for safety reasons. If a humvee is combat locked and there is a catastrophic event (IED), or a rollover, first responders must be able to get into the vehicle from the outside. So, bypasses are built into the design of the doors. Padlocks on the outside do nothing to counteract the bypasses. Furthermore, just about everybody has a heavy set of bolt cutters anyway. The point is, it is no great trick getting into a locked humvee.

Now I was presented with a problem. Officially reporting the theft (even though it was a theft) would have saddled me with the cost of a new helmet (in the neighborhood of $326.30) that would have been taken out of my paycheck. This was probably the motivation behind the theft of my helmet in the first place. Bob has a theory that some dough boy back in WWI lost his helmet, swiped his buddy's, and the chain has continued unbroken through the Army for the better part of a century. So, now the trick was to find a replacement without stealing one. I presented the problem to my capable NCOIC, and he went to work under the radar. In the meantime, I had to run missions with borrowed headgear. The first helmet I borrowed was an XL. I've got a big melon, but this thing made me look like a turtle (See photo. That is me on the far left).

Yesterday my problem was solved when my NCOIC strode into my room with an appropriately sized helmet in his hands. I'm back in business...and now I owe somebody a favor. Ah, Army life.