My Credentials

So, anyone who may eventually follow this may wonder what right I have to write on anything on this subject.
My credentials are, I grew up in the mountains of Northern Idaho. Hunting and fishing were everyday occurances, not because my parents had jobs that allowed this, but because the silver mines here were shutting down and nearly everyone was unemployed. We hunted and fished to actually supplement our food instead of for pleasure. We camped in old canvas tents for most of the summer because the electricity and water were shut off at our house.
I remember a few late nights when my dad would drive up to the back door at midnight, unload a deer on the back porch, and then proceed to gut and quarter it in the bathtub of the house. As kids, we never knew the word "poaching", to us, Dad brought home meat! To get through the winters, dad raised rabbits out in the garage and mom became inventive as hell on different ways to cook it. Fried Rabbit, rabbit cassorole, bunny McNuggets and thumper kabobs.
As a teenager, I grew up under the shadow of the Cold War, and movies like Red Dawn were our anthem. My friends and I would patrol the local hills, burying caches of ammo, food, and other survival items for the day that the Reds attacked. I imagine those caches are still up there somewhere.
After graduating from High School, I had dreams of joining the Green Berets. I joined the U.S. Army and served from 1988 to 1992 as a Combat MP in a STRAF Unit.
Let me define those last two terms. "COMBAT MP" No, not the guys that you see on TV with white gloves and a billy clib in one hand walking the beaches or breaking up fights at the NCO club. Although there were times that we had that duty, Combat MP's are trained for urban combat. House to house fighting. We also did POW transport, Riot Control, and security for Major Supply Routes.
Now on to the definition of STRAF. The military defines it as "Strategic Army Forces". To us, it meant anywhere in the world in 72 hours or less. Whereever the world had trouble, my small unit of about 130 soilders was usually there in timely order to be the bastard child to whatever Battalion was being deployed there. In my 5 years, I seen Germany, Belgium, Egypt, Panama (twice), Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq. I just missed deployments to Honduras, Cuba, and some Caribian island nailed by Hurrican. I also helped provide security for the first President Bush Innogeration parade in Wash, DC., and fullfilled my MP duty's at Ft Belvoir, Ft. Myers and Arlington Cemetary.
Our Units Moto was "Train to be Miserable", and our West Point Honor Graduate Commander made sure we did.
Shortly after I ETD'd, (ended my tour of duty), My unit was offically named the "Dogs of War" by the President of the United States, then disbanded.
As for joining the Speical Forces....seems you have to be able to swim 100 meters or so in full gear as the Pre-test to be able to take the test. After nearly drowning several times, I was deemed to be a "1 in 7" that has no natrual boyancy. So ending my dream.
After the Military, I moved with my family back to Northern Idaho, where I have worked hard to build my family a modest home with a modest income. I still hunt and fish and have instilled that in my 3 now teenage boys.
I dont live every day like tommorow is the end of the world, but the planning has been there in the things we do and the plans we make.
There you have it. I found it is possible to be Realistic on a budget. I dont own the best that money can buy, but I would bet my life on most of the equipment I own.