I know this post is about a month late in coming, but I owe you all a huge thank you for the support you gave me when I announced my impending separation from active duty and unemployment, and then again when I announced this exciting new opportunity I have at TRAX. Many of you e-mailed me privately to express your sympathy and understanding with the disappointment I expressed a month ago, and I very much appreciated every single one of those e-mails, something I should have but did not express by replying to your e-mails. So if I disappointed you by failing to respond, I sincerely apologize, and do know that your e-mails did not go unfelt.
I started my blog almost two years ago now as an easy way to let everyone know how I was doing while deployed. It has clearly out-lived that purpose, and yet because I enjoy writing so much and believe that I will have additional adventures that are worth telling, either in the Marine Corps or in my new job, I do not plan on ending my blogging any time soon.
So, again, thank you, and I look forward the new exciting stories I'll have to share with you all.
19 August 2011
11 August 2011
Left at the Cannons, Right at the Cobra
It was definitely not the interview question I was expecting. "So what do you look for when you look for a place to live?" the hiring manager asked me to kick off my first interview of the day. I did what I normally do when I have no clue how to answer a question: I said nothing. I know she could tell from my facial expressions that I was trying to think of an answer to the question, but as normal, it took a while to assemble my thoughts. She beat me to the punch, and started talking before I could answer the question, but fortunately it was probably my worst answer of the day.
Two weeks prior, I had learned that the orders I had been hoping for were unlikely. This was, in fact, my last blog post, and I appreciated the support I received from you all. My second-to-last day at TTECG, I had walked over to another building to discuss the situation with Maj B, who had been responsible for trying to my orders worked out. I am quite grateful for his help, even though it hadn't worked out in the end, and as I told him about what I was interested in doing next, he suddenly pushed his chair back from his desk. "I have the perfect job for you. Let me talk to someone..."
The company was TRAX International, and the job was a test engineer for military equipment. It sounded like a neat opportunity--a chance to use my technical background, something I have really missed since joining the Marine Corps, while still having the opportunity to make a difference for the Marine on the ground. Most of my friends from school are involved in the tech world, developing all the cool products and technologies that Americans consume at an ever-increasing rate. I very much enjoy the fruits of their efforts, but it's not for me. But tell me you've got something that'll help a squad leader see around the next corner, and you want to make sure it works right? I'm all over it.
The next morning I had an e-mail from Maj B asking for my resume. (Fortunately, someone else had prompted me to re-do my resume nearly two months before, so it was ready, even though I wasn't off orders yet.) Later that morning, as I was trying to wrap up everything I was doing and get my turn-over materials put together, I received a call from him. He had spoken with his contact, and had said so many nice things about me that they were already more or less convinced that they wanted to interview me. They wanted to talk to me for a few minutes that afternoon. "It'll probably be one-sided, but I mean that in a good way. They're probably going to want to talk to you about living in Yuma."
Sure enough, when I spoke with the HR rep a couple hours later, her two main questions for me were: "What do you know about Yuma?" and, "What is it about Yuma that would make you not want to live there?" Most of what I knew about Yuma I had learned at OCS. We were getting ready for family day, and our platoon commander was warning us not to be surprised when we saw her marksmanship badges on her service uniform, because she hadn't qualified as an expert rifleman the last time she'd shot. She had been stationed in Yuma, she told us, then said, "It was 110 that day...no, that's an excuse." I learned two things from her comment that day: first, that Marine officers expected themselves to qualify as experts on the range, and second, that it was hot in Yuma.
So when the HR rep called, I didn't know much about Yuma, but given that it was a small town in the desert (I had googled it the night before), I had some concerns that we discussed. When we were done talking about Yuma she asked me if I had any questions for her. Since Maj B's warning a couple hours before, I had taken five minutes to do a quick google search on "questions to ask during an interview" and had come up with a couple intelligent questions. I asked away, and when I was done, the HR rep told me that I had probably asked more questions than anyone else she had recruited, and that she had been at her job for a while. I assumed this was a good thing. Before we hung up, she had one more question for me: based on our discussion, did I think I might be able to live in Yuma? I told her that I wasn't totally sold, but I hadn't ruled out the possibility. Unsurprisingly, a couple hours later I received an e-mail from her telling me that they wanted to bring me out to the Yuma Proving Grounds for an on-site interview. Among other coordinating instructions, she gave me directions to the test facilities. I was to drive out of town; after about 20 minutes out I would left at the big cannons, and then a mile later turn right at the Cobra helicopter that marked the entrance to the test facilities. The gate guards would probably search my car. (I showed them my military ID. They didn't.)
A couple weeks later I drove down the night before the interview and had dinner with a former TRAX employee and a couple of his friends that are very active in the Yuma community. They, more than anyone else, convinced me that Yuma might actually be a fun place to live. Yes, it's hot during the summer, about like 29 Palms. The winters are very mild (average high 70, anyone?), and I'm told that most (>90%; I heard a couple different numbers) of the lettuce sold in the US during the winter is grown in Yuma. It's surprisingly green from all the agriculture, and it's definitely a small-town feel. There will not be enough rain or snow for me, but it will not have SoCal traffic, which is essential.
So when the hiring manager kicked off my interview the next morning by asking what I was looking for in a place to live, I wasn't sure whether to talk about the traffic, rain, housing prices, or the presence of coffee shops that did not bear the Starbucks logo. We actually hit it off pretty well. She is a Mudd grad as well and retired Army officer, so our backgrounds are very similar. I spoke with other test engineers, visited test facilities, saw a giant parachute hanging from their silo (the department tests air delivery systems), saw an MRAP with training wheels and was told it was undergoing rollover testing, told them about the time my MRAP decided it would be most comfortable lying in a ditch without consulting me.
I think the question I got most often that day was, "what questions do you have?" and it was a constant struggle throughout the day to think of something intelligent to ask, but I'll take that over grilling about the details of what I worked on five years ago. The hiring manager made it a point throughout the day to ask the people I met about the outdoors and athletic activities in Yuma, which I appreciated. After lunch I met with a group that asked me about my experience doing data analysis and used the magic word "matlab" (shiny!). By the end of the day, I was convinced that Maj B hadn't known how right he had been two weeks prior when he'd said he had the perfect job for me.
I knew when I walked out the door late in the afternoon that they were going to offer me the job, and I was reasonably sure I was going to take it. The one hitch? When I got back to my car after the interview I checked my phone for messages before I drove back into town. Two e-mails, one voice message, one text message. TTECG had finally figured out a way to get funding for me to stay there for a year--two weeks after I had checked out of the unit. I took a minute to beat my head against the dashboard of my car in frustration.
I spent the next day hanging out in the city, went to the historic quartermaster's depot and learned about the 10 miles of wooden road that used to cross the dunes east of Yuma, visited a local coffee shop, and had dinner at a really yummy hibachi restaurant. (Yes, they have a Cold Stone's, and yes, I tested it. It passed inspection.) When I received the offer letter a week later, the terms were quite agreeable.
So tonight I am excited to announce that I have accepted a position as a test officer with TRAX International at the Yuma Proving Grounds in Arizona. This was definitely not where I saw myself when I joined the Marine Corps, and it's definitely not the long-term goal I've been working towards during my last few months at TTECG. But over the past couple months, I've come realize and accept that what I have wanted to do has just not been practical under the contract I signed. I've come to terms with the fact that even if I do eventually make it on to active duty, I'm going to have to return to civilian life before that happens. Like it or not, that's how it works. And if that's the case, then I'm really just doing myself a disservice by postponing the inevitable, continuing to try to remain on active duty, wasting my time and others' time fighting the system.
That's the Marine Corps. So now I'm a civilian.
That's not entirely true. I'm still a member of the Selected Marine Corps Reserve, and as I write this I have just returned from a weekend of my first paid drill as a Reservist. Friday we qualified on the pistol, and I spent the rest of the weekend figuring out how I fit into the unit. My position is the Headquarters & Service Company Executive Officer and Training Officer, something that I think will be fun and that I will be good at. I suspect it will take a couple months to figure out how to split duties with the Company Commanding Officer and take things off his plate, but I enjoyed meeting the Marines this weekend and figuring out where everything was.
At this point I don't know what's going to happen with my Marine Corps career. I may drill out my obligation and then get out. I could drill out my contract and apply for an active commission. I could stay in the Reserves for 20 years--the retirement benefits are still pretty nice. But at this point...? I really don't know.
Two weeks prior, I had learned that the orders I had been hoping for were unlikely. This was, in fact, my last blog post, and I appreciated the support I received from you all. My second-to-last day at TTECG, I had walked over to another building to discuss the situation with Maj B, who had been responsible for trying to my orders worked out. I am quite grateful for his help, even though it hadn't worked out in the end, and as I told him about what I was interested in doing next, he suddenly pushed his chair back from his desk. "I have the perfect job for you. Let me talk to someone..."
The company was TRAX International, and the job was a test engineer for military equipment. It sounded like a neat opportunity--a chance to use my technical background, something I have really missed since joining the Marine Corps, while still having the opportunity to make a difference for the Marine on the ground. Most of my friends from school are involved in the tech world, developing all the cool products and technologies that Americans consume at an ever-increasing rate. I very much enjoy the fruits of their efforts, but it's not for me. But tell me you've got something that'll help a squad leader see around the next corner, and you want to make sure it works right? I'm all over it.
The next morning I had an e-mail from Maj B asking for my resume. (Fortunately, someone else had prompted me to re-do my resume nearly two months before, so it was ready, even though I wasn't off orders yet.) Later that morning, as I was trying to wrap up everything I was doing and get my turn-over materials put together, I received a call from him. He had spoken with his contact, and had said so many nice things about me that they were already more or less convinced that they wanted to interview me. They wanted to talk to me for a few minutes that afternoon. "It'll probably be one-sided, but I mean that in a good way. They're probably going to want to talk to you about living in Yuma."
Sure enough, when I spoke with the HR rep a couple hours later, her two main questions for me were: "What do you know about Yuma?" and, "What is it about Yuma that would make you not want to live there?" Most of what I knew about Yuma I had learned at OCS. We were getting ready for family day, and our platoon commander was warning us not to be surprised when we saw her marksmanship badges on her service uniform, because she hadn't qualified as an expert rifleman the last time she'd shot. She had been stationed in Yuma, she told us, then said, "It was 110 that day...no, that's an excuse." I learned two things from her comment that day: first, that Marine officers expected themselves to qualify as experts on the range, and second, that it was hot in Yuma.
So when the HR rep called, I didn't know much about Yuma, but given that it was a small town in the desert (I had googled it the night before), I had some concerns that we discussed. When we were done talking about Yuma she asked me if I had any questions for her. Since Maj B's warning a couple hours before, I had taken five minutes to do a quick google search on "questions to ask during an interview" and had come up with a couple intelligent questions. I asked away, and when I was done, the HR rep told me that I had probably asked more questions than anyone else she had recruited, and that she had been at her job for a while. I assumed this was a good thing. Before we hung up, she had one more question for me: based on our discussion, did I think I might be able to live in Yuma? I told her that I wasn't totally sold, but I hadn't ruled out the possibility. Unsurprisingly, a couple hours later I received an e-mail from her telling me that they wanted to bring me out to the Yuma Proving Grounds for an on-site interview. Among other coordinating instructions, she gave me directions to the test facilities. I was to drive out of town; after about 20 minutes out I would left at the big cannons, and then a mile later turn right at the Cobra helicopter that marked the entrance to the test facilities. The gate guards would probably search my car. (I showed them my military ID. They didn't.)
A couple weeks later I drove down the night before the interview and had dinner with a former TRAX employee and a couple of his friends that are very active in the Yuma community. They, more than anyone else, convinced me that Yuma might actually be a fun place to live. Yes, it's hot during the summer, about like 29 Palms. The winters are very mild (average high 70, anyone?), and I'm told that most (>90%; I heard a couple different numbers) of the lettuce sold in the US during the winter is grown in Yuma. It's surprisingly green from all the agriculture, and it's definitely a small-town feel. There will not be enough rain or snow for me, but it will not have SoCal traffic, which is essential.
So when the hiring manager kicked off my interview the next morning by asking what I was looking for in a place to live, I wasn't sure whether to talk about the traffic, rain, housing prices, or the presence of coffee shops that did not bear the Starbucks logo. We actually hit it off pretty well. She is a Mudd grad as well and retired Army officer, so our backgrounds are very similar. I spoke with other test engineers, visited test facilities, saw a giant parachute hanging from their silo (the department tests air delivery systems), saw an MRAP with training wheels and was told it was undergoing rollover testing, told them about the time my MRAP decided it would be most comfortable lying in a ditch without consulting me.
I think the question I got most often that day was, "what questions do you have?" and it was a constant struggle throughout the day to think of something intelligent to ask, but I'll take that over grilling about the details of what I worked on five years ago. The hiring manager made it a point throughout the day to ask the people I met about the outdoors and athletic activities in Yuma, which I appreciated. After lunch I met with a group that asked me about my experience doing data analysis and used the magic word "matlab" (shiny!). By the end of the day, I was convinced that Maj B hadn't known how right he had been two weeks prior when he'd said he had the perfect job for me.
I knew when I walked out the door late in the afternoon that they were going to offer me the job, and I was reasonably sure I was going to take it. The one hitch? When I got back to my car after the interview I checked my phone for messages before I drove back into town. Two e-mails, one voice message, one text message. TTECG had finally figured out a way to get funding for me to stay there for a year--two weeks after I had checked out of the unit. I took a minute to beat my head against the dashboard of my car in frustration.
I spent the next day hanging out in the city, went to the historic quartermaster's depot and learned about the 10 miles of wooden road that used to cross the dunes east of Yuma, visited a local coffee shop, and had dinner at a really yummy hibachi restaurant. (Yes, they have a Cold Stone's, and yes, I tested it. It passed inspection.) When I received the offer letter a week later, the terms were quite agreeable.
So tonight I am excited to announce that I have accepted a position as a test officer with TRAX International at the Yuma Proving Grounds in Arizona. This was definitely not where I saw myself when I joined the Marine Corps, and it's definitely not the long-term goal I've been working towards during my last few months at TTECG. But over the past couple months, I've come realize and accept that what I have wanted to do has just not been practical under the contract I signed. I've come to terms with the fact that even if I do eventually make it on to active duty, I'm going to have to return to civilian life before that happens. Like it or not, that's how it works. And if that's the case, then I'm really just doing myself a disservice by postponing the inevitable, continuing to try to remain on active duty, wasting my time and others' time fighting the system.
That's the Marine Corps. So now I'm a civilian.
That's not entirely true. I'm still a member of the Selected Marine Corps Reserve, and as I write this I have just returned from a weekend of my first paid drill as a Reservist. Friday we qualified on the pistol, and I spent the rest of the weekend figuring out how I fit into the unit. My position is the Headquarters & Service Company Executive Officer and Training Officer, something that I think will be fun and that I will be good at. I suspect it will take a couple months to figure out how to split duties with the Company Commanding Officer and take things off his plate, but I enjoyed meeting the Marines this weekend and figuring out where everything was.
At this point I don't know what's going to happen with my Marine Corps career. I may drill out my obligation and then get out. I could drill out my contract and apply for an active commission. I could stay in the Reserves for 20 years--the retirement benefits are still pretty nice. But at this point...? I really don't know.
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