St Paddy’s with the Red White and Blue

Linda Burton posting from Sierra Vista, Arizona while traveling from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona — I have a grandson in the US Army. Brett is tall, good-looking, smart, and someone you’d be proud to know. He’s adapted well to Army life; is excited about the opportunities ahead. He did his basic at Fort Jackson in South Carolina, and now is posted to Fort Huachuca in southern Arizona for most of this year. I detoured my Austin-to-Phoenix route to pay him a visit.

Fort Huachuca is home of the U.S. Army Intelligence Center and the U.S. Army Network Enterprise Technology Command (NETCOM)/9th Army Signal Command. It’s also the headquarters of the Military Affiliate Radio System (MARS), the Joint Interoperability Test Command (JITC), and the Electronic Proving Ground (EPG).

Sounds confidential, and it is. Brett already has “a bunch of” security clearances, and couldn’t tell me much about the things he’s learning there. The base is 15 miles north of the Mexican border, adjacent to the town of Sierra Vista, at the foot of the Huachuca Mountains. “Huachuca” comes from an obscure Indian language describing a “place of thunder.” There was a light dusting of snow still visible on the north side of the mountains when I arrived. The winds were strong and more snow was, maybe, on the way.

I picked up Brett at his “dorm” – he shares a room, it’s much like college life, he said. He showed me his classrooms, the family housing where some of his friends live, the on-base elementary school, the ball fields and batting cages, the commissary, even the dental office. It’s self-contained and neat, pretty in its sparseness. And though it is miles and miles from most of the world, it’s not too far from I-HOP, Texas Roadhouse, the Cineplex, and Sierra Vista’s mall.

A stop by my room to visit the cats (Brett gave Jack to me when he was so tiny he fit in our hands, the only male of Cleo’s litter), then we celebrated St Paddy’s Day with Roadhouse steaks. After-dinner shopping at the mall resulted in a suit, a handsome pin-stripe gray, blue shirt to set it off, not for any special occasion but because, Brett said, “Sometimes you just want to look nice.”

Brett pointed out the Buffalo Soldiers on a sign, telling me a little of the history of the Fort. A product of the Indian Wars of the 1870s and 1880s, the site was selected because it had fresh running water, an abundance of trees, excellent observation in three directions, and protective high ground for security against Apache tactical methods.

Camp Huachuca was redesignated a fort in 1882. It was a supply base for the Geronimo campaign, retained after his surrender because of continuing border troubles. In 1913, the 10th Cavalry “Buffalo Soldiers” arrived, joining General John J. Pershing in the 1916 expedition into Mexico. During World War I, it was assigned the mission of guarding the United-States-Mexico border. Today, its training and purpose focus on borders stretching all around the world.

Lots more on the interesting history of Fort Huachuca and its mission today, read at http://www.huachuca.army.mil/site/Visitor/index.asp?pages=History

Times Three

Linda Burton posting from Sierra Vista, Arizona while traveling from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona— I wake up on Central Daylight Time. Bright sun shadows the face of the Sierra Diablos across the street. The car is loaded by 7:23; I see I’m almost out of gas. One stop, and then we’re on the road. An elevation climb, my ears can feel the pressure change, we’re going through a pass. A sign announces “Mountain Time.” I’ve gained an hour. But I’m still in Texas, will be for a long, long while. The limit is 80 mph, I do not hesitate, I fly.

The Eagle Mountains to my left, the Quitman’s too; the Finlay’s to my right. Peaks are 7,000 feet, wide valleys flatten out between. The GPS begins to show a darkened spot, a thick line very near the little car that mimics me. I stop and check the map; yes, Mexico is just there to my left, I know the Rio Grande is flowing there, the border mark.

Traffic thickens, El Paso drawing near, with Juarez on the other side, a troubled city, always in the news. Murder Capital of the World, they say. I need more gas, but everything is tense, so many lanes, so many curves, I wait, to come out on the other side. A break somewhere past the UTEP sign, a gorgeous mall, set high up in the hills. I’ve been driving for a long, long time.

And then I’m in New Mexico. The pavement changes, smooth, the lanes are wide, a sign assures you of a safety zone. Enchanted land, brilliant color, yellow flowers blooming in white sands. The Continental Divide! I stop to get a picture, close, I was here so many years ago, when kids were young. Now I have cats. Jack yawns in boredom, a wild-eyed panther look. “We’re really in the west,” I say, “where you were born.” There is nothing anywhere but souvenirs; gas is 20 miles ahead, they say. Los Cruces is a US Customs stop; the Border Dog doesn’t sniff my car.

Keep driving. Arizona next. The road looks old, worn out. I gain another hour. No sign announces, but I know, Arizona doesn’t favor Daylight time. Three time zones in one day for me. The headwind pushes back against the car; the freeway signs flash “Dust storms just ahead, pull off the road when you can’t see.” In the distance I see swirls, I am gone before they get to me.

I’m tired. I want to stop. Nature take some pity then, rewards me with its awesome sights; Texas Canyon has huge boulders like I’ve never seen. I know that I can make it now, and sure enough, the sign appears where I’m supposed to turn. I’m headed southward now, where family waits for me.

All’s well, except I’m not quite sure what time it is.