My Story from beginning

Many of you know me, some do not. I want you to know a little about me and to follow my story if you want to. Many of my friends want to know what is happening with me personally and this is my attempt to keep them up to date.

So just a little background about my life. My dad was in the US Navy so my life has been a life of a nomad. Transfer to military bases at the requirement of the military and move every few years. Born in Folsom, CA, I moved frequently, usually every 2-4 years. In Oahu, Hawaii I started kindergarten when I was 5. Moved to Millington, Tennessee for 5 years and left my friends again. Off to Lisbon, Maine for 2 years and then to Florence Oregon where I graduated High School.

I was always playing catchup in school because we kept moving and I was always behind because other states teach kids at faster or slower rates. I am not an idiot but I had to work 3 times as hard as other kids with stable environments. I realized, college wasn't in my future because of poor grades and catching up all the time kept them just average.

I wanted to get a trade that would be helpful. I joined the Army when I was 16 and had to be signed in by my parents. I went to Fort Jackson, SC on the 4th of July 1980. (The start of my real patriotism for my country!). I thought I would die and contracted pneumonia because we were soaked with freezing cold water in 100 degree constant heat. I cried and begged not to be recycled but I missed a critical week on the range to learn to shoot M16's. My Drill Sergeant, Sgt. Constantino, took me to the range as soon as I was released and got me qualified to kill commies. I was saved from the dreaded recycle.

I went to Ft. Dix, New Jersey to learn to be a 63B - a Light Wheeled Vehicle and Power Generation Mechanic. No typing pool for this chick! I wanted to be a self sufficient hardass and learn how to fix my own car that kept breaking down. Mission accomplished! Sorta. This was before the age of computers in vehicles.

I went to Bad Kreuznach, Germany, where I was assigned to the 8th Infantry Division and attached to the 8th Signal Battalion. Never believe a recruiter! I was told I would be working in a warm shop and mechanics were a coveted asset to mechanized infantry divisions. I was less than 2nd class. First, in the 1980's, females were not welcome in that man's Army. Only if they were assigned to secretarial, coffee serving, ass kissing, sex assisted ladder climber roles were they ever treated well. I don't think I ever fit that mold even when I was 2. Secondly, I was a greasy mechanic in a Signal Battalion. The communicators of the Army didn't take care of us and we were demoted to shelter halves on hillsides while they sat in their warm rat rigs.

OK, So life was not all bad. I travelled all over Europe in the 3 1/2 years while I was there and fell in love with history and specifically WWII history. I saw the Ramstein Headquarters building after it was blown up by terrorists because my Uncle was stationed in that building and I went there often to see my Aunt and Uncle. I watched terrorists bomb buildings, blow up planes, bomb our Marines in Beirut and more. I saw the Marines in Landstuhl who were burned, mangled and barely hanging on to life after Beirut bombing. I had been in a crash and was trying to get my bones put back together and that's where I was sent when those patriots were being cared for and stabilized. I saw the evil of socialism, hate for anyone that was not a Muslim and radical leftists who want to control people and the world. Conform or be executed. I was thankful to be an American and so thankful to have FREEDOM!

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