One more log on the fire

When it rains, it pours. On top of my normal duties of taking care of a platoon, I've had a number of other things to deal with.

First, let me describe what "normal" is. I've got one guy who failed a urinalysis twice (for drugs) and is now in the process of being kicked out. OK. That's normal.

I've got another who is scheduled to finish his enlistment in October, but has already checked out mentally -- he's been hours late to work on three Mondays in the past month. No problem; we can deal with that. That's normal.

A third separated from his wife recently, and she has been texting the platoon sergeant with messages to give him. That's fine; we can handle it. That's normal.

Last week, though, it started to build up. I've had to take care of an ROTC cadet, which meant driving around to all the different stuff she had to get to. Not so bad -- I just had to manage the platoon by phone a bit more, and fill out paperwork at home.

Then, this week, I had a class that took me away from both. In addition to managing the platoon by remote control, I had to arrange for rides for the cadet. Again, not so bad -- I have great coworkers who could pick up the slack.

But on Tuesday evening things started to get a little tough. I got a phone call saying that I needed to attend a funeral in Sherman, Texas. I had to get my Class A uniform in order and leave the next day. Class cancelled; I'll have to do it some other time.

In a way, that was a relief because that class was way over my head, but this being my first funeral I was nervous. As the officer-in-charge it was my duty to present the flag to the next of kin and deliver the condolences.

And as soon as that funeral was finished, we got a call -- there's another funeral in town tomorrow, and we were asked to stay over another day and do that one rather than send out another team.

Finally, I got a phone call from the company executive officer saying that my platoon's in the middle of a defecation-storm because the father of one of my soldiers wrote a nasty letter to the President.

Wow.

Although the whole matter began as a misunderstanding and will almost certainly work out all right, it's a bit intimidating knowing the post's commander, a three-star general, on orders from the President, is looking into my platoon's business.

I think this is how Frodo the Hobbit must have felt with the Eye of Sauron glaring at him. One misstep and it's game over.

I would love to just run away and do this:

But I guess they needed to add one more log on the fire to keep the hot seat going.