Small Ropes!

Even before I join the Army, there was a thing that terrified me: There is a long exercise, where the whole military unit takes off to the mountains and makes an encampment there, staying for 5 to 12 days. It is nicknamed “little ropes”, because of some Greek innuendo. The thing that terrified me was the fact that our situation was hard enough when we were in Mitilini, so imagine if you have to live for so long out in the woods.

My primary fear was concerning the weather conditions. Any time from January till March was too cold, especially at nights. Fortunately, we went there in May. Then it were the conditions: The small shelter we were making was almost not enough for two soldiers – I forgot to mention that it were 2 soldiers under one hut, which was in fact not larger than a big bed sheet, on two wooden sticks. And in it, we had to put all our stuff, and keep it clean for inspections. And I got unlucky in my partner: The most annoying guy in my platoon was in fact forced upon me. He is a 1,50m short guy, who complains about everything and thinks he’s somebody. Fortunately, I had to endure him for “only” one week…

When the day came, I still didn’t know if I was to join the others. Something wonderful happened: My third transfer arrived, which was nearly impossible, since I serve 9 months, and only 12 month soldiers have that “privilege”. So, I didn’t know what was happening. You are reading this post, so you know that I went there.

The place where we set up our camp was decent. I picked a spot and started building my “little rope”. In about an hour I was done. The rest of the day was identical to a day in a military compound. I figured out it was not so bad. And I slept well during the night, it was far from cold and I had a sleeping bag.

The days passed and I realized to my surprise, that it was quite enjoyable there. I had my best corporal buddies with me, we did exercises with armored vehicles, we did war scenarios, and I got to shoot with the Browning 50mm machine gun, which was astoundingly cool! I lost count of how many bullets I shot to a small target, which was hurled by a small aircraft. All the by standing officers were surprised with my aiming and resolve…(must…stop…boasting…about…myself…aaaargh!).

What about food? We had a fully equipped kitchen and the meals were served as in the camp. We were eating in small aluminum boxes (“karavanes”) and we had suvlaki and hot dogs. Not bad huh?

There was a hilarious moment, where my Captain ordered us to clean the mountain from its… rocks. “Why?” I dared to ask. “So you don’t trip on them at night” he replied. It did make some sense, but after hours of rock cleaning, I begun doubting the man’s sanity. There was a lot of digging and cleaning as well (you can imagine that there was no WC out there…) but still, I had this feeling of euphoria and the days were passing quickly.

I came closer with EPOP soldiers, you know, professional soldiers and corporals, whom people consider to be dumb and pricks, but when you spend some time with them, you may find out that they are good people, family people. Our superiors were surprisingly relaxed as well. In about 7 days, I realized that I was having the best time since the time I became a corporal!

During the weekend, we were divided in two groups, in order to go back to our unit and take a shower, drink a coffee and buy something if we needed to. The thing is, back there, chaos was ruling: Two second-lieutenants were in charge, the one crazier than the other. One was refusing to hand me the keys to our barracks, the other was yelling us to get in line and that “he was God here”. One guy from Crete commended that “Hitler was better” and chaos erupted… I tell you, I was more tired there than I was back in the mountain.

Overall, “little ropes” was a fantastic experience and I wonder how in the blazes I thought it could be otherwise. Well, unless if it was winter… (shudders) It was the last time my friends and I were there to hang out together and it was great. Achilleas, Nikos, Giannis, Leyteris, Giwrgos, Dionysis, we had a great time together!

LYB Forevah!

There was a Cretan guy I’ve met in Mitilini, a sergeant called Nikos, who was the type of guy who’d you like to have next to you in a battlefield. He seemed to be valiant, courageous and clever. At first, I approached him with all the “yes sir” crap, but he told me “forget it. One day you may become a sergeant too!”. Call again? How was this possible?

I learned later that this was possible due to my studies and age, and that I was selected, together with other 20 men, to go through a second training period, called LYB, standing for Battalion of Trainee Officers. Sounded hard, but Nikos assured me that this was the best month since he joined the Army. For one, you’d be doing no services, no shifts, no handy work. Training and only training. Good facilities, good officers, and all this for a month. Whatever took me away from my present unit was good enough for me…

Sometime in March, they load us in the back of a truck and they sent us to the small village of Polichnito, in the heart of Lesvos. The camp looked decent enough and more important, nobody was yelling at us. We settled in a cozy barrack and they informed us that the training will last 2 weeks only and that there would be no sergeants out of us, due to an order from the Pentagon. Plus, we were there to do some services after all…

The training was a more intense novice training. Confused? We were doing again the same things we did over and over again in the training centre. This time, from the perspective of a commanding officer – this is how we should view ourselves now. Nikos was right: It was the best time of my “military career”. People were treating decently, I hung out with great guys and above all, I’ve met my pal from my Student’s Life, Nikos Gazis, who was there as well as a trainee officer.

There were great moments during the training. We loved to give orders to each other. We were learning by having fun with our great superiors, who were about 25-28 years old. Another buddy of mine, also called Nikos, was doing a lesson to others about cleaning our gun and parts of it. “Because, when you are on the field, wet, hungry, thirsty, without ammunition, without communication, separated from your platoon and with bullets flying next to your head, what makes more sense than cleaning your gun?” LOL!

The village was nice. It had two cafes, a bar, a press shop, and many places to eat. The best was the hot springs right next to the camp, where we could rest our battered bodies :-P Plus the fact that we could sleep for hours, without disturbance. This place was great and most of my friends agreed on that. We didn’t want to leave.

And we didn’t. At least not immediately. Time passed quickly and we were sworn as corporals. I came 13^th from 130-140 people, not bad. The important thing was, this camp had warehouses full of mines, whom needed to be carried by someone and put someplace by someone as well. And, what a surprise, my unit was selected for this superhuman task. Mind you, we’re talking about 35.000 mines here! But that didn’t bother us. What mattered was that we were away from our actual unit. We carried mines all morning, then came back, unload them from trucks, then eat and then go to our services. But we were happy.

We did stay one more week there and then came the time to go back. It was harder than I thought, to get used to the running and yelling, but we didn’t have any choice. But I was grateful to have experienced these 3 weeks there and meet all these wonderful people and a blog can’t be enough to tell you all my experiences or even more describe my feelings about the time I’ve spend there. It was by far the best time of my life during the Army…

Coming up next: My second-best time of my life during the Army! Small Ropes!

Beautiful Women

Recently, I had a revelation. A late one as it proves to be. Greece is overrun by stunningly beautiful women! OK, not “overrun”, but I must say, the percentage is very very good. So, where’s the big deal, you might say. Greek women were, as far as I know, always beautiful and very much in the last decade. But what about men?

The revelation/observation/conclusion came to me as I watched an advertisement about loans, a very popular hobby in Greece. There is this average looking guy, laying on the beach. Around 35, little hair on his head, his body looking like it would need some training (no six-packs or what so ever). He listens to the radio about loans becoming more and more expensive. Then, a gorgeous chick comes out of the water and sits next to him, changes the radio station and we hear about the “cheaper loan on the market”. This puts a smile on the guy’s face and he tells the chick how happy he feels about it. Several other babes turn their heads and look at his direction. The end.

So what? Ads are playing with our fantasies and wishful thinking. Who doesn’t want to be successful and popular to women? And of course they’ll put an average looking guy, because the ad targets on average people, who, statistically may look average as well. A beautiful woman is often related to success. Plus, the beach and the sea are related to vacation and relaxation. And you can have all these with the “cheaper loan on the market”… There, I made a semiological analysis as well :-P

The thing that put me in thought was the two main persons in the ad. How come women look more and more beautiful, while men remain average-looking? Then I did some zapping and I noticed that this was the case. Almost every woman looked great. OK, I know it’s the TV, so they’ve got to put good-looking women there. But then you look outside the box, you look around you when you’re outside, having fun. People, we have become a nation of beautiful women, very much like Italy some years ago.

There is the Mediterranean look, naturally. But now there are girls that look like being from Northern Europe, blonde, with blue eyes, yet 100% Greek. Most of them take good care of their body, and even the chubby ones know now how to dress and hide their negative aspects. Guys remain on a standard level, with very few exceptions. Well, not all of us can look like models, right?

Women complain about the lack of “real men”. I’ve grew tired on listening to the same bull for the last 2-3 years, and to tell the truth, who can blame them? Many men lost their courage and will to flirt. Afraid of rejection from a beautiful woman, they don’t dare as they used to, that’s what the cliché is. Women look stunning nowadays, while you are, well, just a guy. But through this ad, I came to the delayed conclusion that that’s the status quo of looks in Greece. Women don’t expect from men to look beautiful as they do, they’ll always want to look better than anyone, that’s natural. And to them, I believe, we look as we always did. They see that men are looking average, being normal guys. They don’t want a guy who is equally good-looking as they are; they just want a nice guy. That’s why they make themselves pretty.

There is no need to seek courage from complicated discussions about the two genders. Personally, I have accepted the fact that that’s the way it is. I have a girlfriend, but those of you who don’t, don’t think about it. We should feel lucky that Greece if filled with babes, not being afraid of them. They can’t help themselves if they are born with beauty genes, right?

WLAN on the Beach?

During my last day(s) off from the Army, I went with my girlfriend to Chalkidiki, and more specifically to a small town called Chanioti. An ideal place for young people, since it offers a variety of bars and clubs. Needless to write about the girls that were there: The whole Eastern Block was there, in bath suits. And what am I supposed to write you about? How gorgeous they looked?

I’d rather write about a positive aspect of the whole “beach” thing. This was my first time I went to a beach after 2 years. I don’t know what happened during those 2 years, but I observed a number of things.

First: Minimal to no garbage at all. The sand was garbage free, not only in Chanioti, but in another place, called Potidea, I don’t recall seeing a plastic bag, an ice cream package, or a finished cigarette.

Which bring us to my second observation: In a beach full of people of all ages, I noticed only one smoking. And she was a young woman, unfortunately. Very good looking, she threw that beauty of hers away, once she lit up a cigarette. Other than that, the beach was smoke free as well, which made me happy and optimistic.

The third observation had to do with cell phones. Yes, they were absent as well. I was one of those people who took their cell phone with them to the beach, but this year, I decided to leave it back to our room and just go for a swim and sun tan. I noticed that most, if not all people had the same idea, so to speak. Even if they had them in their bags, not even once in four days did I notice someone talking with his/her cell phone. Great improvement here.

Which reminds me: There was a hilarious ad, airing some time ago, where an office guy is packing his things, his colleagues viewing him with sympathy. “Where will you go?” asks the one. “I don’t know”, he replies, “somewhere outside Athens. Maybe… Mykonos!” and then we get a glimpse of him, sitting under an umbrella, with his notebook, taking advantage of a mobile company’s internet connection. Hmm, so far so good. The advertisement is clever, humorous and somewhat original. But then, there was another ad, from another company.

They advertise on how their cell phone signal is now powerful enough to reach even the more distant regions of this country. So, they show a farmer at his work, talking to his cell phone. Logical: He may be on a village. They show a fisherman, on his boat, talking to his cell phone. Logical: He may be on a distant lake on the mountains. They show a hiker, on a cliff side, reaching for his cell phone. Logical: He is on the mountain, he may need help. They even show a man talking to his wife and children via video conferencing. Too good to be true, but logical. Then they show a gorgeous babe, in a small blue “makes-you-drool-all-over-the-place” bikini, sitting next to the sea, SURFING THE INTERNET WITH HER NOTEBOOK, USING A WIRELESS CONNECTION! LOGICAL: WTF? I say again: W T F?!?!

This ad means to tell me, that a hot looking girl, in her twenties, has nothing better to do, on a beach, than surf the internet with her laptop? Not even I do that! Even If she was not on a beach, how many 20-year olds that look like models do you know, that surf the web, with a freaking wireless card that connects via 3G – I mean, she did a research over that thing, right? She walked into a telecommunications store and asked some poor guy about “the fastest 3G connection in order to use my laptop on the beach”? Suuure!

I am confident she’ll hook up with the guy from the previous advertisement…

Abandon hope all ye enter here!

There was fire and lightning and a booming voice echoed through the halls of my training camp: “You are being transferred to Mitilini, as a machine gunner!”. Say again?

I was hearing this from my Captain and I couldn’t believe my ears: Mitilini was a place I never thought of going as a soldier? A mean, an island opposite Turkey, very far from Trikala or Thessaloniki where I live, very difficult to leave and go (I thought back then) and as a machine gunner as well? What did I ever have to do with machine guns; I didn’t even seem like being able to carry one!

I traveled there via ship, through Athens, where I met my friend Achilleas, who was joining the same military unit. He was in Mitilini as a student and he kept telling me that the unit was close to the city, that it was great to be there and etc. Plus, a friend of mine, Synthia, studied there. The prospects seemed ideal. How wrong were we…

Once there, I had a lukewarm feeling: The command center looked a bit old, the whole camp was build upon a hill and there was a lot of shouting and cursing. When they took us to our barracks, things got worse: It was a VERY old building and the soldiers inside looked as if they escaped from Prison Break. Kretans were talking with so heavy accent, I needed subtitles to understand them. Cursing and yelling again. Suspicious looks.

I had to take a leak, so I found my way to the toilets. Joseph Conrad would be proud, because this was indeed the “Heart of Darkness”: The horror, the horror! There was no pavement, only mud and dirt around it. The smell was reaching from a far distance. The inside was not better: Water leaking from somewhere, there was no hot water and the toilets were nothing more than holes in the ground. I tell you now: Very. Normal. Stuff. But back then, I was disappointed, to put it mildly.

And not about the hygiene thing. Every commanding officer seemed to be angry, stressed and mad at you, for no reason. The other guys who were already there looked weary, tired and wasted. Fortunately, I was going out for a week, in order to get used to the new unit. I confess now, I was returning each night crying and not believing my bad luck.

This very camp is considered to be one of the hardest in Greece, I shit you not. The Commander was formerly training reserve officers and he was tough as a rock. A man fulfilling every military cliché, barking orders and punishing every little misdeed. The commanding officers tried to keep up with him and keep him pleased, so they did the same. It was a big chaos.

With time, I got used to it. I met wonderful people there, good friends. I got tougher, at least what the Army concerns. I got used to the countless training sessions, the exercises, the war scenarios, the constant running under someone’s orders. The night shift under -5 degrees, 3-6 AM. And, yes, I had no problem with the machine guns.

In fact, I grew to like them. My trainer, Mr. Makris, was a great officer and even better guy. An old war hound, a guy who loved the art of war, but not military horny. He tried to make you appreciate the army but not force his opinion on you. We found an understanding during my time there, which needed time, but close to the end it was great. I was trained to use the MG3 and the Browning 50mm, both great weapons. I got the chance to step into a VBL reckon vehicle and be part of the scout platoon, with the mission to do reckon and offer anti-aircraft protection. I got to shout targets 1500m far, cutting stones from a mountain with my bullets. I shot an air target, with over 200 bullets. Let me tell you, I realized why people who own weapons, feel so powerful.

This was my second transfer, the first considered to be the training centre. 90%, all the second transfers are like this: Very tough officers, average to bad facilities, hard training and all these in order to expand your limits and be ready for war situations. You didn’t expect that people will talk nice to you, while bullets fly next to your head? But all the difficult stuff will bond you with your fellow soldiers; besides you are in the same situation, aren’t you? There is the positive aspect of such units having near 100% operational readiness, which means you get to do your shift for one day and the next one you have a day-off.

It was tough, especially at the beginning. I didn’t thought I could last there, but I did and this made me proud of myself. I even felt sad when the time came for me to leave for my third transfer. But this is a story for another time… What will follow is the story of how I got to be a corporal, so stay tuned!

P.S. : It wasn't all torture and misshaps. There were great moments, especially after a couple of months. What we really like with the guys was spoofing the whole Army thing, shooting videos and immitating our commander. Watch the following video, courtesy of my friend Artemis Damigos (he's the guy polishing my boots!)

Enviroment

The summer of 2007 was disastrous for Greece and more specifically, for its ecosystem. Anyone who watched the news during the summer will grow tired reading about the countless fires that ravaged the forests and burned houses and, sadly, people. I was witness of such a fire, during my time in Kastoria as a soldier, where the fire came closer to our facility, than it was comfortable. What I want to point out here is not the who, what and why, surrounding the fires but the mentality of the average Greek guy towards the environment and the meaning of ecology, as I perceive it.

2007 may be the year to mark a turn to ecology. Even more and more advertisements concerning the environment appear on the TV, which makes me believe that being “green” will be the business of the years to come. Major companies will use the concept of ecological / environment friendly products to sell. What concerns me is how the average Greek Joe (or Giorgos, if you prefer) is viewing this whole mess.

I believe that most think of it indifferent. Well, the polar ice is melting, so what? The poles are very far from Greece, right? Duh! The forests are burning, so what? I live in the city. Duh! The temperature is rising? So what? My new, super-duper, fucking awesome air conditioner will keep me cool. And if it isn’t, I am gonna buy a second one, a more powerful one! DUH!

Greece, being a beautiful country from nature, never seemed to need taking care of. OK, we had garbage, but that’s it. Recycling still is “something for the geeky, northern European folk”, alternative energy sources are still “experimental, unavailable and extremely expensive” and hybrid cars are “too slow, too unpredictable and there are no alternative fuel here, right?”. All this baloney makes me go crazy! The apathy. The indifference. The boredom. The lack of information. The lack of will to be informed.

Why does it have to be like that? Is it really THAT difficult to care about the environment, not in a WWF/Greenpeace way, but in an every day way? It is comforting and strange at the same time, that, whenever I visit certain places, like electronics stores, cinemas, press stands, etc., there are certain depots for battery disposal, under the AFIS (ΑΦΗΣ) initiative. And they are almost always full. That means that there are people, hear – hear, that care about disposing their used batteries! This gives me hope that there will be people, mostly the new generation, that will do what’s good for the environment, without feeling like they are forced to.

It all begins with education: Make people from little age, learn how to recycle, how to take care of trees, make them learn how to be patient and not use air-conditioners. Not taking the car for small distances in the city. Not to litter. All these stuff that make a Greek roll his eyes and feel oppressed. It won’t feel like that, when someone has learned to take these things for granted.

I- BallZ

Types of soldiers:

One of the most common, nowadays, category of soldier is the “I”-category A.K.A “giotades”. The “I” letter stands for ability, but it would be better to stand for inability, since it would seem, everybody is trying to appear unable to serve his duty at its fullest. Becoming I1 or I2 means that you can carry a gun and participate in all exercises. I3 and I4 means that you can sleep, eat and drink all you want, if you’ve got an excuse for it, like my left leg was once broken in multiple places and now hurts like hell, or my right testicle was injured during a free bed fall. I5 means that you are unable to do anything in your life: You are either severing injured or crazy. You don’t have to go to the army but you can’t work in public services either. A popular category among singers, rich people, sons of politicians and actors…

Even if you use the lamest excuse, the moment you bring a note from a doctor that says you are I3 or I4, you are free. These people enjoy their stay in the army and still mock you, because you were not clever enough to fake an injury and pretend that you are weak, impotent, a cripple or something. They mock you once you leave for your guard; they mock you as you are in a military transport, leaving for some 5-hour exercise. And once you return, you can watch a guy with spinal injuries taking push-ups, while you can barely stand.

There was a guy in the training centre, and when the doctor was asking for any injuries in our lifetime, everyone was trying to find an excuse. A broken small finger, a broken tooth… Anyway, this guy starts explaining, very calmly, that he had multiple cranial fractures, a broken jaw, broken nose, he was stabbed by a knife on his back TWICE, he had a dislocated arm, his left wrist was broken, his kneecaps, you guessed it, also broken from football… Oookay…

Then, in my second unit, there was a guy named Alex. He smelled like a wet dog, was bored even to fart, and he kept asking money and underwear from every other guy in the battalion. And he was also a I-powered guy. He did absolutely nothing, and if and when he did, he did it wrong. I remember him complaining about his back and how his “legs could barely walk him around”. Poor guy. My captain thought the same and he signed some days off for him. Our barracks were about 300m far from HQ. So, when Alex learned about the days off and was asked to go and meet the captain, he run those 300m faster than I thought it was possible for a human being.

Anyway. There were some nice I-people I met, who had real problems and still tried to serve with dignity. Some were even more capable than many I1’s I’ve met. But those who pretend make a bad name out of it. It just feels unfair to do all the hard stuff and then watch some guy sitting on a desk, eating sandwiches and laughing at you. They really don’t do nothing. They count the guns, they are working in offices like secretaries and they help some officers with numbers and stuff.

It would be unfair to make a judgement here, a clear one that is. You’ve been to the Army, you make your own. Or when you go, again, make your own. The truth lies, as always, somewhere in the middle.

Surely many of you will have heard that all the guys that join the Army are VERY unhappy about it. All of them? No. A small percentage of people think of the Army as the time of their lives! They are the so called “stratokayloi” or, as I like to call them, “military-horny”.

From the first moments in the training camp, there were a couple of guys that talked about the army as if they were veterans of war. They knew weapon types, orders, ranks, slang military terms, and had the look of “been there, done that”. Some tried to make the rest of us feel bad about walking in the cucumber field without underwear, but relax, take it eeeeasy!

Come on: Who on his right mind cared about what is going on in the Army? Or, to formulate this better, was joining the Army the goal of his life? It is one thing to be curious and interested about it and another to be like Tackleberry from “Police Academy”.

Often to be misunderstood for stratokayloi are many people that don’t like the army, but they have no problem what so ever with it. My friend Nikos, whom I met in Mitilene, was such a guy: He didn’t want to have an officer over his head ordering him this and that, so he did everything by the book. He was at least decent in most situations and very confident about himself. All these were mistaken for him having “the hots about the Army”. But I ask you: Is it better to moan and complain about everything or just do the damn thing and have no worries?

What needs to be worried about are the officers who are military horny as well! They are not doing it for the money, but because they like it. They like tormenting the soldiers, barking orders, dragging the battalion to field exercises, tormenting the soldiers a bit more and tormenting the soldiers even more. They think that life should be modelled after the army, that’s the impression they give me. Prey that you won’t meet any of them while you serve in the armed forces.

Last but not least, are the people who are well – connected, the so called “vismata”, the “plugged ones”. Their end reaches to some high ranking military guy, a colonel or something, who, even better, ought to be placed in a key position. It can be a friend of your grandmother’s second cousin’s former roommate, but any dignity and self-respect goes lost once you beg to someone to change your transfer or call your superiors and ask them to “treat you well” or give you more days off.

That, of course, does not sit well with the poor souls that have no such friends. As a result, “vismata” are often left alone or have few friends. None particularly likes them. Can you imagine how annoying it is to listen to how they will settle every problem with a phone-call? How happy they sound because they will be transferred and serve about 20 minutes away from their homes, while the rest will be serving for 5 months hundreds of kilometres away from home? How nice it feels for them to move around unpunished, not participating in exercises, getting more days off while others have limited amount of them, it’s all so terribly annoying, how can you like these people?

Word of advice: You ever meet them, ignore them. They care only about themselves and that’s it. You can wait for months for some days off, while they visit their homes and families every ten days. Good for them.

Joining the Army...

Continuing from my last post, once you get the “invitation” to join the Army, you must appear there on a certain day and time. My call was for a small village, called Therma, outside a small town, called Nigrita, near the city of Serres, North Greece. Nice. Only 1 hour 45 minutes away from Thessaloniki, where I used to live and, oh, study.

2 weeks before I went there, I felt great. 1 week before, I still felt great and had a sense of curiosity about the whole deal. 2 days before, I still felt the same way. But the last day, oh boy, it was hard. It is no shame to tell that I cried a lot, looking at my family, my girlfriend, at my friends, the city, everyone and everything I was leaving behind. It felt like I was never going to see them again. Stupid thought, but this is how I felt that day.

I took what courage I had and tried to think positive. My mother and my grandmother(!) drove me to my new home for the next 1,5 month, the duration of the basic military training that is. The road to the camp was difficult. Not for the car, for me. But once we got there, things begun to get in a row. I met two great guys outside, Tolis and Theodoris, and we hung out together until the end of the training. After I signed some papers and got my baggage checked, I said goodbye to my family and went for medical examination, and even more paper filling. People who have been to the Army will tell you that this is one of the most boring days in a soldier’s life. You spend hours and hours waiting for your turn. Hey, at least there is a funny moment: When you get your testicles examined.

They took 6 or 8 of us and put us behind curtains. They asked us to take off our pants and underwear and put our index finger between, you know where, so “we can tell that everything is there where it is supposed to be”. Funny how you concentrate on your surroundings, once you try to avoid looking at the guy opposite to you. First useful stuff you learn at the Army!

Then we got our first meal. I really don’t remember what it was, only that it was pretty good. You know, there are rumors that army food sucks, but that’s not true. It’s not your mama’s, but it is ok. The only issue is that there is a program about it and a repetition. You are going to eat the same menu each week. Spaghetti, beef, pork, bean soup, meatballs and the all popular “gay with Chinese”: Chicken with rice.

Then it was all about interviews and putting us into battalions. After a long afternoon, I entered my battalion’s room and found a bed. Again, nothing terrible here. In fact, the whole situation reminded me of camping. I small – talked to some guys and then slept inside my sleeping bag.

The next day we got breakfast. It was funny to see some people insisting that our branded milk had “anti-koukou”, a dosage of “something that stops your erection as long as you serve”. Bull, I tell you.

Then it was time to dress up like a real soldier. They took us in a warehouse and gave us military clothes, the ones we will be using for the next year. Let me tell, you, it feels kinda cool when you first put them on. Like dressing up for Carnival or Halloween. Only the boots are murder, but everyone gets used to them.

There! After 1-2 days we look and are real soldiers. But that isn’t just enough. What makes a soldier is his training. Forget what you watch in movies. In the Greek Army there are no death pits and 1000 push-ups. But you get to learn your weapon good, you throw grenades, you learn to operate at night, to report on your superiors, to form battle formations, to treat wounds, and many, many more. My advice: Think of it as a different kind of school and don’t get your panties in a bunch. The worst thing that can happen during the first days, is that people complain too often and for ridiculous reasons. And that brings the mood down for the rest. OK, I know we all were used to a better kind of living, but this is the army. People should stop complain and try to, you know, become a man. Stop whining! I remember a guy I’ve met during my serving in my next unit. We were night watch, during March. Temperature was about 20-25 Celsius. He was complaining that it was “too damn cold”! Some days later, during an exercise, day, 25 Celsius, he still was complaining it was “too damn hot”! Or can you imagine: We walked for 15 minutes and he complained that this was “a terrible pain in the ass”! What a wuss!

Training in the training camp is fun. You get to enjoy your and other people’s mistakes and goofs. You get to know people and your superiors. BTW, they may be responsible for some hard time, but they are funny. They’ve found the point and they make fun of it. I remember my battalion chief, a second-lieutenant, during some push-ups he got us doing in the field. “Lower, men!” he kept yelling, “lower! So you can feel the pulse of the Earth!”… Or during night training: He was asking about the uniform colors of each nation. USA doing urban operations, they wear combinations of grey, we Greeks operate in nature, so we wear nature colors, and he asked about Russians. I answered “white”, since they operate in snowy environments. “White? Who are they? Gandalf the White?” he replied. LOL, man!

During the training, you will get to guard some posts for 2 or 3 hours. I remember, my first post was the main gate. So, this particular second – lieutenant coming over me to see if I was doing alright. The following dialogue is 100% real:

-Everything alright, soldier?

-Yes, sir!

-You keep your eye on the road. Any suspicious person or vehicle comes by, mark them well. We don’t want you waking one day and discovering that you are missing a liver, o lung, your heart (!). If anyone attacks you, let him know the power of your weapon!

-Yes, sir!

Great guy, I hope he is still doing fine.

There even was a very effeminate drill sergeant that during exercises, he told us that he will “bring our bodied to melting point” or that he could “warm us up, if we feel cold”, meaning that if you answered “yes”, you’d be taking some push-ups in order to, well, warm up. He proved to be a great guy too.

Our captain was a funny guy as well. He introduced himself like the “man who will make your lives hard! I have one daughter and I live…” Come on! Who is trying to be menacing and then tell you about his family and stuff? He was funny when we took our first weekend off. He said “If someone gets sick, you can bite your lip and get back here, we have excellent doctors. If someone breaks a leg, he can still come here. If he breaks both legs, thentwo of his friends should carry him here. And if someone dies, the BRING ME HIS COFFIN AND PUT IT RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME! None is gonna be missing on Monday morning, understood?” A friend of mine commended “it’s 7 o’ clock in the morning for fuck’s sake, what is he talking about coffins?” LOL!

And I will never forget the first time someone (a friend of mine) dropped with gun. This is a mortal sin to do while in the training centre. The captain called him to report himself. The soldier started “well…it just fell… I couldn’t…”, only to be interrupted by the yelling of the captain: “Girlie! Ballerina! Doofus! DOOFUS! How dare you apologize?(!)” Doofus? What kind of lame word is that?

Well, that’s about the training camp. You won’t expect me to tell you everything that transpires in there, don’t you? After all, this is considered to be “classified” information. Plus, you may got bored. I mean, how much army can you handle? If you don’t like it, tell me to change subject. Still, I will try and focus more specifically to people and situations. Following next: I-balls! ;-)

Elections 2007

The political scene leaves me cold and slightly indifferent. That is known to people that know me well enough. What troubles me, is the way people elect their representatives a.k.a. future leaders every 4 or less years.

This year’s elections left a blue taste in the mouths of PASOK voters, who watched as their party concentrated the smallest percentage of all time. Well, they shouldn’t be surprised: In fact, you could have made a fortune by betting to New Democracy’s win. What were the odds? Fires of biblical proportions ravaged about 70% of Greece, the economy sucks, education sucks, unemployment sucks and reigns, so what held PASOK from winning?

In my eyes, it was the profile of their presidents: Kostas Karamanlis for N.D. VS George Papandreou for PASOK. The first is your typical, middle-aged Greek: Fat, average looking, slightly “elsewhere”, joking, eating a lot, drinking, occasionally cursing, talks loudly, full of temperament and speaks with popular terms to the people. Take Papandreou now: Tall, thin, raised in Sweden and USA, cultivated, calm, a gadget fan, athletic, speaks English with nearly perfect accent, he looks more like some British guy some people sent here to conquer us from within.

I cannot forget the time when Papandreou was elected president of PASOK. There was a time before that, that he was praised as a holly man, due to his father’s heritage: Andreas Papandreou was one of the most gifted folk seducers and a cunning politician, influencing more than two generations during his lifetime. As soon as George was elected, the next day there is a fantastically disastrous video, where George is jogging along with some friends. The imagery is identical to the president of the US, jogging, with his bodyguards following him. The only thing missing was a sniper, looking out for dangers afar… Showing that video to the Greek audience, a folk who like the US policy as much as the USA love Fidel Castro, well, that was a bad idea. Or a clever move. Depends, on who brought that video to the TV station.

Then, there is the aspect of popular TV shows, stand-up comedies, and newspaper caricatures: MitsiXosta, a TV show where the host imitates various celebrities and politicians, by that time (2004) was presenting Papandreou sitting in an oval office, with the US banner on the background, he was confusing Greek with English words, and he frequently asked for his mom’s permission or guidance in order to continue. Karamanlis was presented as a constantly hungry guy, halfwity, some may say he looked like a loveable loser. Guess what most Greeks are… And Kostas Karatzaferis, president of the radical Right party LAOS, won popularity points due to the fact that, A: MitsiXosta made him known to the public, and B: He was shown as a guy with sharp cleverness and witty humor. His party entered the parliament in the 2007 elections…

So, to me, elections are another clever game played by and through the media. It is not accidental, that during the night that PASOK lost once more the elections, a member of the party, Evangelos Venizelos, announced his nomination for president in Papandreou’s place. Venizelos, a huge, fat, loudmouth guy, seems ideal to face Karamanlis in what will resemble a sumo fight rather than a political debate. And make Greek voters identify with him. It doesn’t matter if there are two voices and the one speaks right while the other speaks wrong. What matters is which one is heard louder…

A Night At Hatzimihalis

Ok, ok, I know his name is Hatzigiannis, but I can't stop calling him like that. I just got back from watching him, live, celebrating my birthday.

I was amazed on how much pussy can fill a giant live music hall. And this comes from a guy who studied English Literature, 5 boys among 200+ girls! OK, I know I live in Greece, but since when does every woman sport huge breasts attached on a fine body, ending in a pair of long legs? Some runaway speciments from Jurassic Park were there as well, but the majority was fingerlickingly tasty. See for yourselves.




How was Hatzigiannis? He was good, I guess...

“Unfortunately, none can be told what the Army is…

…You have to see it for yourself.” Paraphrasing this line from The Matrix, I intent to give you a glimpse of what I (and many other young men) went through for 9 months. Well, for others is 3, 6 or even, hear hear, 12 months :-O

Since I was blessed with 3 wonderful brothers and sisters, I served for 9 months – more than enough, if you ask me. My sentiments to those who still serve and will be serving in the near future.

I am done since August the 7^th. So, I decided to write about it, mainly because I wanted to tell others about my experiences and secondly, because I wanted to restart my blog. This is better for you of course, since, if we met face to face, you would have to listen, even if you were bored to death, but now, you can just close the page. Of course, my blog won’t be just stories from the Army; I will try to expand to topics. Besides, I am also gonna write about movies, books, human relations, missed job opportunities, vacation reports… well, you get the idea.

If you are Greek, then you probably know what this whole idea is about. If you are a foreigner, then let me tell you that joining the Army is both an obligation and a duty, when you are a Greek citizen of course. After reaching puberty, you can expect that a certain letter will reach you as well. In it, there will be the date and place you must go and begin your training. This will be more likely on a logical distance from where you live. If you have reasons that hinder your presence at said time, like studies or job or some family issue, you can ask for a temporary cancellation and join the Army several months or years, but YOU. WILL. SERVE.

Unless of course you are a “visma”. Named after the Greek word for plug, this means you can plug into some connection to an uncle, friend or your mother’s second cousin’s neighbor, anyone who’s dealing with the Army can, theoretically help you. Theoretically being the key word. New soldiers and their parents ask for all kinds of favors, like sending their son “someplace good” or giving him more days off. I will dedicate a whole blog post about them in the near future, ‘cause they are simply hilarious.

That’s for today. This post may seem a bit boring, but I assure you, it was just a general introduction, mostly for my non-Greek friends, and things will get funnier after the next post. See you in a couple of days then!