Here is Your Reward for Serving Your Country

As much as I admire people who serve in the military, sometimes I wonder what they were thinking when they signed up.

Lots of us want to defend our country. Lots of us are willing to make sacrifices. What would drive me crazy, however, would be dealing with the bureaucracy, the waiting, and the foul-ups. It’s unbelievable.

Military people are slaves. They don’t call themselves that, but it’s true. If you have a job you can’t leave, in which your superior can command you to perform a task which probably includes being killed, you are a slave. Military people are always at the mercy of the people who run their services. When those people screw up, which happens all the time, there isn’t a whole lot our servicemen can do. They have to put up with it and suffer.

My dad was a soldier in the Korean War. He got very lucky and avoided combat. His platoon or whatever was on the way to Korea, and he was called aside to play in a band. Nonetheless, he’s a veteran, and he is entitled to stuff from the government. Now that he’s demented, I need to find out what they will give him.

In order to get this information, I have to sign my dad up for the VA website. In order to do that, I have to have his service record. In order to get that, I have to sign up for a site called Milconnect.

Signing up for Milconnect is basically impossible unless you served recently. My dad served quite a while ago, and the DoD, in its wisdom, decided not to put his records in their online system. Because, you know, who seriously expects Korean War veterans to need benefits? That could never happen.

I tried to sign up at the VA site. They sent me to the Milconnect site, which gave me an error. That sent me to a site called Iris something or other. That site told me to call a number. I called that number. The rude lady who answered told me 1) she could not do anything to help, 2) I should call the people at DEERS (the organization that handles the online records, I think), and 3) she had no supervisor I could talk to.

Evidently, she is the President of the United States. She answers to no one.

Of course, she was lying.

I called DEERS. They assured me the people at the first number could help. I called the first number again. I went around and around, back and forth. I spent 45 minutes on hold. Finally, someone connected me to a woman who had the answer.

Everything was fine then, right? No, because the last lady kept telling me she couldn’t help me. I kept asking new questions and rephrasing things, because I knew how the bureaucrat mind works. You can’t tell them what you need and expect them to figure out what to do. You have to ask THE EXACT QUESTION THEY ARE PROGRAMMED TO RESPOND TO. Until you guess that question, they squirm to get free, because getting free is their only real goal. I felt like I was wrestling with Proteus (look it up). Finally, she sent me to a website that allowed me to request my dad’s records. By FAX.

I am not kidding. I guess no one who works with the government will be surprised. The government, in 2018, insists on using fax machines. This technology went bust in what? Maybe 2010?

I have a fax, but why would I connect it to a phone line in 2017, when I moved to this house? The land line barely works, and NO ONE FAXES ANY MORE.

The website was amazing. They had nice forms I filled out online, and then instead of processing the forms online, the way every other organization on earth (outside of the government) does, they made me print it and fax it.

I had to scan the printout, turn it into a PDF, and pay a fax website to send it in. I could have mailed it, but that would have added days of waiting.

Shouldn’t the mere existence of fax websites suffice to let the world know that faxes have been replaced by computers? Faxing things from a website is like putting your riding horse in your car.

All of this only took around 4 hours. Should have taken 10 minutes. My guess: business as usual for military people. I have heard their stories. Constant screwups.

My dad told me a story once. The Army made his platoon crawl through ice water for some reason. They did this outdoors in the winter. Then they didn’t provide shelter or dry clothing. Everyone had to stand around in wet clothes, trying not to die. They stuck their arms straight out, like gingerbread men, trying to keep their freezing fatigues from touching their bodies.

Then they got good news. The Army was sending hot onion soup. The trucks arrived, and out came the soup. Boiled onions in plain water.

I feel like I got a tiny piece of the military experience today. I am so lucky I never got drafted.

My dad served during a shooting war, and he witnessed atom bomb tests. Maybe that will get him special stuff. I don’t know. Often, GI goodies are tied to income and net worth, and the thresholds are not high. Whatever. One way or the other, we will find out. I think.

They say Donald Trump is shoving his boot in the VA’s rear pretty far, forcing it to shape up and treat people better. I hope that’s true. We treat former soldiers like aborted babies. No one wants to look at them or deal with them.

I can’t figure out why the websites are so bad. The government always overpays for things and gets shoddy work. Good websites aren’t that expensive. If they were, little online retailers wouldn’t survive. If we can pay almost two million dollars for every Tomahawk missile, you would think we could manage to spring for two or three websites that work.

If memory serves, I have been told we can get $1800 per month. I have a feeling it will turn out not to be true. If it is true, I expect them to make mistakes and turn us down several times at first. Then I expect them to tell me it can’t be done. Then I expect to locate the one competent person who makes it happen. You always find that person if you hold out long enough. In the entire US government, there are approximately three.

Meanwhile, a few thousand disabled veterans will die listening to hold music. The Iraqis and Afghans couldn’t get them, but our bureaucrats will put them in their graves with Chuck Mangione.

I’m all done. Let’s not think of the 400 other things I needed to get done today. My dad will have frozen ziti for dinner, and I may have ice cream and a Powerade. The dump closed 21 minutes ago, so it looks like the garbage will ferment in my garage for another 48 hours.

If you served in the military, God bless you and keep you. He better, because no one else gives a crap about you.