What time is it?
Army Times.
They’re here, since Thursday. A photographer and reporter, here to cover our unit. The reporter grew up in the same hometown as my commander. So they know each other partially from knowing the same people, and run-ins during a prior OIF rotation.
So, our unit’s normal self-imposed media blackout was lifted to allow them to visit.
Other units have had an odd dozen or so reporters, but this is a first for us. Exciting.
Well, I take that back. Exciting, yes – insomuch as it’s a chance to do actual stuff related to my job. Exciting, no – due to the incredible amount of politicking that’s going down amongst the leaders of our subordinate units.
Luckily for us, the colonel wants the journalists to do their own thing, which has allowed us to reject all of the attempts by these other units to come in and wrest control of our guests.
You see, the other units want exclusive access to the reporters to show off their stuff. It’s how they treat my boss and I; but with civilians, that sort of bullying doesn’t necessarily fly.
And I admit, I do get a secret pleasure in responding to emails that say “You will have the reporters here by 0900 to cover my Bravo Company Field Artillery Unit” with a succinct “Negative, sir.”
I know we’re not making many friends with this visit, but since A) we’re following the colonel’s orders and B) they treat us like crap anyway – regardless of how often we run to help them out; I’m not too worried.
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