I dont even know where to begin. When I last wrote I was still at Fort Rucker. I am now at Fort Campbell. During the intervening month a was in Alabama, Washington State, Colorado, New York, and Washington, DC visiting friends and family. I was fortunate to get to see very many of you. I had a wonderful time reconnecting with the people who are important in my life and pretending to be a civilian. Check out this picture from the beach. Notice the facial hair.

Since arriving at Fort Campbell I have found an apartment and started to buy some furnishings. I sincerely hope that everyone within the range of this message will eventually come and see my place. As an added incentive, Nashville (a really fun city) is nearby and you have a place to stay while you explore "music city."

I have just finished in-processing for the installation and will report to my unit tomorrow. It turns out that Maltby and I will NOT be in the same unit. He will be doing "general support". I will be doing "air assault." We will fly out of different air fields, do different missions, and in effect, never work together. Oh well, at least we are still neighbors.

I am also getting used to the culture here at Fort Campbell. I like it so far. Unlike Rucker, it is not swamped with flight students of approximately the same age, experience, and mentality. There is great diversity here and that is much more fun. It also means that I am getting used to saluting, and being saluted.

That brings up a funny story. Warrant officers think of themselves as a fraternity and wont acknowledge the official rank structure among them. We are collegues. Nonetheless, I was taught at Rucker to salute senior warrants just like any other officer. I tried that today. I saw a CW4 and saluted. He litterally pushed me away and told me to never do that again. He had a smile on his face and his point was well taken. "Thanks sir", I said, "I am glad we got that out of the way."

Another funny thing that happened this week involved a poor solider named Private Shy. We were being issued some gear and I thought the Private had accidentally switched bags with me. "Is Private Shy still here?" I called to the crowded room. I had forgotten the terror a private feels when an officer calls out his name. The petrified Private jumped up, ran to me, snapped to attention, and waited for an order." I felt really silly and told him as nicely as I could what the problem was. It turned out he was not even the culprit. Oh well. As I was leaving the building I heard a sergeant threaten all the privates. He said very seriously "you better find that missing bag or Chief Mackler will kick your ass." I dont think I am in Kansas (or Alabama) anymore.

I will let you all know how things go tomorrow when I report to my unit.