Thank  you to everyone who came by for the book signing. It was a fun event, since the Old Mill's 'Thrill at the Mill' Halloween festivities were also going on.  In that respect, it was like a Comi-con, but with younger cos-players.  We saw some cute costumes and some creepy-scary ones.  The best  were the ones the kids or parents had done themselves, like the little ones, about 3 or 4 years old,  dressed as an old couple complete with huge eyeglasses and a PVC walker that Dad had made!  That probably won a prize! 

 I would like to thank several of the attendees who already owned the book and were buying several more for Holiday gifts.  And thank you, Dan, who had read the book on Kindle, but said, "It's hard to sign a Kindle!"  One lady was so sweet, she said, "I've never read a book that I actually got to meet the author!"   It was great to meet my readers and I look forward to the next event.  
                                                                                                                                                                                              ~Michael S. Pauley

Well, today is the day for the book signing. Hope to see some of you there!  Even if you do not buy a book, please stop by to say hello!  Looking forward to this event, to the Halloween Festivities at the Old Mill, and seeing people I have not seen for a while. Another plus is the owner of Rainy Day Pal Books, Calvin.  He has quite a selection and collection of books, new and used, and loves to talk about his wares.  Many of them are military histories or biographies, some of my favorite reading!  I always find a treasure. Hope you do, too.  See you in Lexington, SC!

“Ripped from the headlines!”  One of my favorite phrases during a TV commercial about a “new show or episode.”  I love the phrase, mainly because it means that all you will see, hear, or experience from that show, or episode, will be bunk or hogwash.  Much like a warning on a pack of cigarettes, it tells me to find something else to watch, since what is to follow will resemble “truth” the same way a blue whale resembles a fruit fly.  I recognize that this is as much the old soldier as the lawyer speaking here, but I’ve watched enough of these things to know that any resemblance to the facts is purely coincidental.  I recall, while still on active duty, being interviewed about an event by a member of the press.  After taking things out of context, and then folding in something to make it more “exciting”, the story was printed.  When I read it, I truly wondered if I had been to the same interview.  (In all fairness, it had nothing to do with anything serious, but was instead about a “Soldier of the Month” competition.)  

Years later, while I was a prosecutor, I once had a news print reporter shove a tape recorder in my face at the end of an argument before the Court.  Taking the page from my earlier experience, I decided the smart thing was to simply say, “I explained it all inside the Courthouse, and really have nothing more I can add here.”  Damned if I didn’t get misquoted yet again, but this time with some funnier results.  It seems that I did all my talking in the “outhouse.”   Either the editor missed it, or they believed I was full of excrement.  Now that I think about it, and knowing that particular newspaper, the latter was probably their opinion. ~ Michael S. Pauley

If you're in the Lexington, SC, area this Friday, stop by Rainy Day Pal  Books  at the Old Mill. We will be there for a book signing and Halloween festivities.  The Old Mill is just that, and old mill on a mill pond, and has been converted to restaurants and shops.  Rainy Day  Pal Books is one of the coolest book stores, offering a mix of new and used, trade-ins and collector quality antique books. We look forward to seeing you there!

There are worse things in this world than worrying about what is going to be on TV, or maybe whether your team will win the game.  As humans, sometimes we forget that “hierarchy of needs” Maslow was always talking about in your Psych class.  One of the points of my books is what happens to us when that “hierarchy” gets put on hold, and the very things we take for granted are no longer available.  There is no TV, news is sporadic, information is slower, and the world takes on a survival of the fittest mentality.  Now, instead of being hyper focused on the person that cut us off in traffic, or how someone treated you in the check out line, you are literally fighting to just to survive.  Having been to many less fortunate parts of the world, it becomes clear that we sometimes lose touch with how hard life REALLY can be for most of us.  In some parts of the globe, it is more than just a UNICEF commercial, the starvation is real, and the hatred of each other, for bizarre reasons, is equally real.  Spend a little time in a place like that, and you stop caring about things like the program change, or the needs of some no talent personality on the cover of a magazine.

Sadly, we shouldn’t need a shock to the system to start being more civil to one another, or to remind us of the real priorities in life.  Being more tolerant of those that are offensive to us, especially during those few brief moments of interaction, is sometimes all it takes to keep you from making a mistake yourself.  Remember, that person that jumped the line or pulled out in your lane, could be just having a really, really, crappy day, and they just didn’t see you.  Maybe it doesn’t have a thing to do with you.  Maybe, just maybe, it was a lapse of judgment on their part, and not some desire to see you die.  For your part, just let it go and move on.  The key is to remember that while life might be too short to put up with BS, it is also too short to let people live “rent free” in your mind.  Never forget that which is most important, starting with your family and your friends.  The “Biker” incident in NYC is just such an example, and a very sad indictment on that group’s mentality.  I wonder what they would do in the face of a Gomer Invasion?  Now that is the part that scares the hell out of me, since they would probably be worse than useless.  Oh, wait, they already are worse than useless! ~ Michael S. Pauley 

If you're in the Lexington, SC, area this Friday, stop by Rainy Day Book Pals at the Old Mill. We will be there for a book signing and Halloween festivities.  The Old Mill is just that, and old mill on a mill pond, and has been converted to restaurants and shops.  Rainy Day Book Pals is one of the coolest book stores, offering a mix of new and used, trade-ins and collector quality antique books. We look forward to seeing you there!

I have been accused of forgetting the Air Force in these blog posts.  You’re half right.  While I didn’t mention them, I certainly haven’t forgotten them.  They just haven’t come up yet.  I will say that an AC-130 Specter Gunship, or an A-10, are two of my personal favorites.  More than once, crews of these fine aircraft have personally provided me great comfort in some pretty tight places.  I have also worked with PJs, Forward Air Controllers, and several of their transport wings.  In each case, I’ve had the honor of watching their work up close and personal, and I have nothing but great things to say about them.  I got to jump out of the C-130, and C-141B.  I’ve had so many rides in C-5A and C-17 aircraft that my butt will fit quite well into their seats.  Nope, I’ve not forgotten them, I just haven’t had as much time living with them.  I recall in Central America, they were the guys on the other side of the runway.  We were in “C huts” all equipped with a metal roof and plywood sides you pulled up to get fresh air.  The Air Force, on the other hand, were in fancy “blow up” inflatable shelters equipped with central air conditioning.  Needless to say, we didn’t have much contact with one another, since we were clearly in the “low rent” district.  Still, when you’re up to your butt in alligators, and the boss is screaming “Drain the damn swamp”, the sound of that air support from the A-10 or the AC-130 can be more comforting than anything you can imagine.  ~ Michael S. Pauley

The Navy did get their revenge, and it was another case of my having to go aboard an Aircraft Carrier.  The landing wasn’t a deal, since a “Helo” approach isn’t the same as a fixed wing pilot having to shoot for a “three wire” to “Trap” on deck.  The only problem we had was that shortly after landing, we lost one of our vital aircraft systems.  Oddly enough, a helicopter needs things like hydraulic fluids to keep the beastie controllable in the air, and we lost ours just prior to shutdown.  It wasn’t just a simple hydraulic problem either, it was one of those lead injections I mentioned in the last post, and it was in a key spot.  Long story short, what was supposed to be a simple refuel operation, turned into a “Crap we’re stuck here,” operation.  The Navy, being the fine hosts at the time, gave us an option.  They could send us back to the beach in a small launch, OR if we wanted, they could just fly us back to our main operating base where we could pick up a new helicopter.  Since we would need a new aircraft, we opted for the second option.  God, what a huge mistake.  I guess it is what you’re used to doing, but someone decided that a ride in the older, C-2A, would be a cool way to get home.   We were lined up on the catapult, and the crew briefed us on how to sit during the “cat shot.”  Within a second we went from sitting on deck to flight.  The force was impressive, and as we clawed into the air, I swore to myself, NEVER AGAIN!  These guys are crazy!  

Now, unlike the Naval Lieutenant who got green in the back of my aircraft, I didn’t get ill, but I sure felt like all my organs had been inverted.  Now the lesson here is that we are comfortable with what we learn, and we train to learn.  Naval and Marine Corps Aviators have no problem flying from 0 to 200 mph in a second, and Army Aviators have no problem flying low and fast, at night even.  Still, we often look at each other and say, “No way would I do that one.....”  Of course, then comes along a Coast Guard Aviator, who will do crap nobody else would touch.  Anyway, you understand the message.  We all have a part to play in the defense of our country, and we all are comfortable with the way we train.  Are we all crazy?  Probably, since those who learn to fly the Cessna 150 at the local airport would most likely think we were all nuts. ~ Michael S. Pauley

Okay, this is old “war story” week apparently.  Yesterday’s memory of the first trip to “see” the Navy brought to mind my first discussion with our Naval Aviation counterparts.  Perhaps some of you know that Army Aviators love to fly low, hot, and into harm’s way whenever possible.  We were in a foreign area and had to pick up a surgeon from an offshore U.S. Naval vessel.  (Which because I have no desire to upset anybody, shall remain nameless.)  It was a dated ship, but it did have an aviation contingent and a flight surgeon, who we desperately needed to pick up and take to some of our guys onshore.  It was not an unusual flight, and I had long been deck qualified on a number of different vessels (ranging in size from an old converted LST to a full blown Aircraft Carrier).  Picking up the Naval Flight Surgeon, one of the “Helo” pilots wanted to fly in with him, I guess to see how the other half lived.  Regardless of his reason, we said, “Sure, hop on!”  We then picked up from the ship’s deck, and headed back to shore, crossing the shoreline we did the obligatory “Feet Dry” call, and immediately dropped to our customary cruising altitude of roughly 3 feet above the highest object.  In other words, given the tactical situation, we were flying nap of the earth, and honestly hauling ass.

I didn’t see the scene unfold, but we were getting a “running commentary” from our crew chief and medic, who was watching the young Navy Lieutenant throughout the flight.  At first I guess he thought it was fun, but apparently, at least according to our crew members watching his face, the fun must have worn off pretty quickly.   The lower we got, the more nervous he became, and the more we found out about what he had for lunch.  My Crew Chief keyed his microphone and said, “Sir, the L-T’s eyes are getting VERY big!”  After a few minutes of silence the Medic in the back piped up, “Sir, the L-T’s pupils are dilated.”  Then a few minutes passed, and the Crew Chief keyed his mic again, and said “Sir, he is turning colors.  Right now we have a great shade of green going!”  Then the Medic said, “Sir, he’s hunting for his helmet bag!”  Just as the Medic let his foot off his floor switch, the Crew Chief piped up, “SIR, WE HAVE LIFT OFF!”  This phrase was followed a few seconds later with “OH SH**!  He missed!”  Naturally, this part of the discussion then evolved into phrases like “Dude!”  “Maaaannnnn!”  And my favorite, “Dude, I ain’t cleaning that up!”

Sadly, onboard a “Medevac” bird, you will not get much sympathy from a crew that has seen so much badness from real wounded, so losing your lunch hardly comes up on the radar anymore.  Instead, it becomes a simple exercise in discussing who will clean it up!  That particular discussion was ongoing as we topped a rise near the operating base.  This is where the ride really got interesting, since we initiated our typical “circling approach” right over the Landing Zone or LZ.  Now the circling approach is a maneuver where we would cross the LZ at 120 knots, pull into a tight turn within the confines of the LZ, bleed off flight speed and whatever altitude we had, right before we turn, flare, and then land.  The maneuver was necessary, since the surrounding jungle area was full of people who didn’t particularly like the notion of anyone flying over them.  In other words, if you strayed too far, then you would likely get a high velocity lead injection.  

Regardless, with the approach, the turn is extremely tight, and as you “bleed” off the inertia, you will definitely feel that G force prior to the flare and landing.  When our skids touched down, the Flight Surgeon and our other passenger literally could have been poured out of their seats.  Good thing for the Flight Surgeon he had a job to handle, otherwise, like the young Navy Lieutenant, he would have been stuck cleaning up around his seat.  I will say that on the return flight to his ship later that evening, they both flew with their eyes closed and knuckles white for the entire trip.  Naturally, payback being that fickle lady, the Navy got their revenge on me sometime later.  Unfortunately, that is a story for another day. ~ Michael S. Pauley

Culture Shock!  Speaking of the Navy, which I guess I have several times this week, I have to tell an old soldier’s story.  I wasn’t new to the military, having been in the Army for several years and raised by an “old Navy man” my whole life, but my first visit to a United States Navy Ship was an eye opener.  I was a somewhat freshly commissioned Army Lieutenant, and had the opportunity to “come aboard” a “Fast Frigate,” the USS Capadanno, FFG - 1093.  On this particular day, I was the acting commander of the Army unit that was invited aboard, and as I approached the Officer of the Deck (OOD), I was announced as “[the unit number] Arriving.”  I saluted the OOD and requested permission to come aboard, and then once the permission was granted, I saluted aft towards the colors, and stepped onto the ship.  

The OOD seemed impressed that I had at least a clue about how to get on board, and within minutes, myself and the other officers in my contingent were taken to the Wardroom.  Let me say that all of us were exhausted, dirty, and probably as smelly as any humans could be, after spending almost three weeks in a swampy nasty place.  We’d been living off “C” rations and just about anything else we could get our hands on.  Now we were standing in what could pass for a formal dining room.  There were table cloths, china with the ships logo, and cloth napkins in silver plated rings.  We were seated, and then served!  There was no “chow line”, we actually had someone come out and serve us a REAL meal!  The culture shock almost killed us all, especially since it culminated in the first real hot meal and decent coffee in weeks.  It was then that I realized that we might have the same goals, and complimentary roles in the service, but the Navy is just different.  Sitting there, enjoying the coffee, and fine surroundings I was also struck by the obvious notion that originated from the old “Jody Call”.  “GI Beans, GI Gravy, GI wish I’d joined the Navy!” ~ Michael S. Pauley