If you hang around long enough in life, the human condition at large lends itself to countless priceless ironies. I met a guy in my Army unit in Germany named George Archer. As I recall, he hailed from out in one of the Virginias. Bear in mind the context of the military environment we all lived under. My roommate Dep, at the time was given the option of jail or the Army by a New York judge. In kind, Ol' Archer had been in the National Guard. The glitch came went George came up missing for a time. Uncle Sam punished him for his delinquent indiscretion by sentencing him to...service in the Regular Army - kind of like fining someone more money for writing a bad check; you know, fining someone something they do not have in the first place. But I digress. 

    George or "Arch" as we called him was an amiable chap. He was about five-foot eight, not a big guy, but I would not like to ever have had to fight him. He had wavy blond hair and a rugged yet almost handsome face. I never saw him angry. He was infamous in our unit for having that famous poster of Farrah Fawcett on his room wall back at our base station. Once I made a snide comment about a bar-room brawler of a guy from our unit who was notorious for unapologetic bad behavior.

    "Good riddance," I had said to our group regarding the brawler guy named Max that was such a hard ass. Max was shipping out. 

    Ol' Arch said in his Virginian accent, "Well Bob, wait now a second; I think I would have to have at least one beer with Ol' Max if I ever see him again." 

    That was Archer, he always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. 

    Arch joined us on one of our weekend jaunts. We ended up down near the Bavarian mountains. There is a picture somewhere of a bunch of us camped out by a mountain lake some damn place in the foot hills. When the car broke down in the mountains on a narrow road on the edge of a thousand foot drop, George did not bat an eye. He just raised the hood and started to tinker - "Appalachian mechanic," Ol' Smitty said and laughed, "He can't fix anything unless its in the mountains."

    Smitty nicknamed the little cobbled VW Bug "Sunshine." Once in a drunken weekend in the Bavarian farmland, we took off down a dirt farm road; then I hopped into a harvested corn field at 75 miles an hour. A minute later, in the bumpy rubble, one of my hub caps passed the car. It is still in that field most likely. 

    Back in the urban setting in Nurnemberg, one weekend Roache dropped a cigarette between the seats. The car started on fire. As we were trying to beat out the flames, two German Polizi pulled up. As they came to my car door, I opened it and a cloud of smoke billowed out. Smitty grabbed a couple beers from the back seat and poured them on the fire. 

    "Crazy Americans," one of the cops said as they got back in their patrol car and sped off. "Verrückt Amerikaner."

    Archer's sentence among us rabble was for one year. That thought in itself should inspire an essay. Some judge thought so poorly of the American Armed Services, he deemed it appropriate punishment for a perp to be sentenced to living among, well...American soldiers abroad. 

    Of course we had a party when it came time for Arch to go home. There was an Italian guy named Bono down the road from our barracks in Nuremberg that operated a Guest House (tavern). After a night of debauchery, the guest of honor found himself riding up in my sunroof. Like a gunner on top of a tank, Ol' George Archer rode in style as I sped up and down the late-night empty boulevard near our barracks. As I squealed into the barracks archway past the guard (who just shook his head) Archer's legs disappeared behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and McAmmis (who was a nudist from California, and should probably have his own story some day) was holding on to Archer's foot as he dangled over the side - his head bobbing off the coble stone driveway. 

    Long story short - George Archer went home with one hell of a knot on his head. I must invoke the cliche, "There but for the grace of god go I."  I am thinking of countless legal cases where kids, (we were just kids in retrospect, except we carried machine guns unlike our civilian college counterparts back in America that carried books), I can think of countless examples of someone dying from falling off a car during a drunken foray. 

    "I'm sorry, Arch," I said to him as we shook hands the next day at the airfield.

    "Don't worry a bit Bob," Archer said. Then he smiled and said like a Wall Street attorney, "Bob, I know you are a drunk and I crawled in to your car with no illusions. Nobody forced me at gun point to act like a fool. You take care Bob, it was a pleasure serving with you."

    It was the last time I ever saw Ol' Arch. Another Army buddy of mine from West Virginia tried to find Archer after we all got out of the Army - to no avail - Arch disappeared back into his Appalachian Mountains. 

    George Archer, I hope you have had a good life in your beautiful mountains; and, I hope you do not think too ill of me now after all these years to reflect on that short time when we were all so young and invincible - I hope you do not get too mad at me each time you look in the mirror and see that damn scar on your forehead. 

    Note: This blog "Jobs of Bob" Category does not list the jobs chronologically - I write about the experiences as they pop up in my memory and I often revisit an older job.  Go to the Cooldadiomedia Web site and the Jobs of Bob Page  for an ordered chronology.

                        Wisconsin Military Service Person Special Mention of the Week
    (each week Cooldadiomedia mentions a Wisconsin service person killed in Iraq or Afghanistan)

    Corporal Keith Alan Nurnberg, 26, McHenry, Illinois, and Genoa City, Wisconsin died Wednesday, September 5, 2007 in Baghdad, Iraq. Nurnberg was in the 2nd Battalion, 69th Armor Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 3rd Infantry Division, out of Fort Benning, Georgia. He died from wounds he received when insurgents attacked his unit during combat operations in Baghdad. The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel noted Nurnberg had moved to Wisconsin before deploying to Iraq. His wife was expecting a child at the time of Keith's death. He was on his second tour of duty in Iraq. Via information from the Northwest Herald newspaper of McHenry, Illinois, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel went on to mention Nurnberg left for the second tour of duty in Iraq not long after marrying his wife, Tonya, in December of 2006. She is a third grade teacher in Round Lake, Illinois. He had moved to Genoa City from McHenry around the time of their wedding. Nurnberg was a 1999 graduate of McHenry West High School and joined the Army at age 22. He was laid to rest at Bloomfield Township Cemetery in Pell Lake, Wisconsin. The data base for military casualties iraq.pigstye.net via information from the Chicago Daily Herald notes Nurnberg was a Specialist E4 at the time of his death. He was promoted to Corporal posthumously. The Web site iraqnam.blogspot.com via information from the Northwest Herald noted Keith Nurnberg came from a family with a long history of military service. Nurnberg’s grandfathers both served in World War II and his father, Al, is a veteran of Vietnam. One of his great-grandfathers served in World War I. The family was quoted as saying Nurnberg mentioned things were different in Iraq from his first time around in the country. The iraqnam.blogspot.com also mentioned the couple's courtship had been quick, but they had known each other for 10 years before dating. Keith had run track in high school. At the time of his death Keith Nurnberg was survived by his parents, Barb and Al of McHenry; wife Tonya; and three sisters, Christi, of Colorado, Melissa, of Indiana, and Kimmi of McHenry. Keith Nurnberg was the 80th Wisconsin military service person to be killed in Iraq since the spring of 2003. 

         As of this blog entry's posting date:

    99,341 Iraqi civilians have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
    
    9,820 Iraqi Security Forces have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.

    4,435 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003. 

    1449 Americans have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.

    318 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.

    841 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001. 

    32,112 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring, 2003. 

    9,971 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Afghanistan since October, 2001. 

    103 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.

    27 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.

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

    21 journalists (various nationalities) have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.

Wisconsin military service person special mention of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; Milwaukee Journal Sentinel; washingtonpost.com; thehighground.org;  Wisconsin Department of Veterans Affairs; iraqbodycount.org; www.defense.gov/news/casualty.pdf; and, icasualties.org.