In the three years between the end of my active military service and the time I moved to Texas I used the odious labor service a couple of times. This I did when I was between jobs as we say. It was the "Rust Belt" days of the Seventies and early Eighties. It was a virtual economic depression in some areas of Wisconsin. Companies, if you were lucky enough to find a job, would let you go just as soon as look at you. Apologists still pretend it never happened. So many people were fleeing the area the U-Haul rent a truck or trailer places could not keep up with the demand. Call it what you want - temporary employment service, day-labor service, employment contractors. I remember two distinct experiences during this time.

   Once I was sent to a potato chip factory for a couple weeks. There I rebuilt wood pallets. The floor in the potato storage area was so slippery, one had to be careful not to break one's neck. Potatoes were piled one-hundred feet high. Rows of women plucked burnt potato chips off a conveyor belt. There were huge carts of burnt chips everywhere. Paprika came in to the plant in train cars. One day the belly door of the car got stuck so the load would not empty into the hopper. We plucked at it with shovels until it gave way. Paprika avalanched down on me while I was under the car. I could not eat chips for two years after that. They also let you take home as many small bags of chips each day that you could carry. That was only cool for a couple days. I soon tired of chips. The Paprika episode finished me off. 

   I was sent to a plastic company to sweep plastic PVC filings off the work floor. The full-time workers read books on the line as the various sizes of pipes generated along their creation process. Every once in a while they would put their books down and make a small adjustment to the machine - they would put a diligent look on their faces and then go back to reading. They would reluctantly move their feet as I came by to sweep under their work spaces.  The folks there liked me and offered me a job. It was winter and my job would have been to climb up a ladder on a tower and dump 50 pound bags of plastic granules into a hopper. The guy who was showing me the task came in with a dust mask, his cloths covered with plastic dust, and his hat covered with snow and ice. I politely declined the then generous $1.95 per hour job. I wounder were I would be now? Remember that line in the movie The Graduate, "Plastics."

   This week's Wisconsin soldier to remember is Private First Class Ryan M. Jerabek, 18, of Hobart who was killed in Ramadi, Iraq on April 6, 2004. Jerabek was in the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force. He was killed in what has been described and a long firefight against insurgents. Ryan was the Fifteen Wisconsin service member to die in Iraq. He had been in Iraq less than a month. According to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Pfc. Jerabek enlisted in the delayed entry program for the Marine Corps in his junior year in high school. He did his boot camp in San Diego in July, 2003.  Ryan is survived by his mother and father Rita and Ken Jerabek. Dad Ken Jerabek served in the Army during Vietnam. 

   3,628 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   26,806 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   76 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

   112 journalists (several nationalities) have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.

Soldier of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; and, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.