Army strong? No, BEAR strong!

I passed by Lt. Vic Easel the other day down at the mall. He’s trying to find more people to enlist in the new surge in Iraq. I notice he’s got something new on his table, a picture of some sort of robot.

“Yeah, it’s a robot that can carry the wounded off the field of battle,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “They call it the BEAR. Battlefield Extraction Assist Robot. They’re going to test it in five years, but that’s just in time for the tail end of any new recruit’s eight-to-ten year committment, depending stop loss orders.”

“It sort of has a teddy bear’s head on it,” I say.

“That’s to help calm the wounded down,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “And teddy bears have been calming people for decades.”

“No, they’ve been calming children for decades against the loneliness and unknown creatures of the dark,” I say. “A teddy bear will do nothing for somone whose arm was blown off with an IED.”

“In the heat of battle, you look for anything that allievates the ugliness of war,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “Or that’s what I’ve been told. I haven’t actually been assigned a combat role yet. But still, it’s a reasonable theory.”

“Yeah, those blank robot bear eyes are really comforting,” I sarcastically say. “Just like those soulless Care Bear eyes.”

“Look, this robot bear is the only good thing that’s come my way recently,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “Our politicians do nothing for recruiting efforts. Parents aren’t very supportive of their kids joining the military. ‘Army Strong‘ isn’t a catchy enough slogan to lure people in. All I got to sell is a robot bear that will pick your wounded body off of the battlefield and carry you to safety. Where else but in the Army can you have an experience like that?”

“I think people would rather not be wounded at all than be carried by a robot bear,” I say. “I mean – don’t get me wrong – getting carried by a robot bear might be pretty cool and all, but it’s not worth the price of getting shot or maimed in Iraq.”

“Oh who am I kidding?” says a dejected Lt. Vic Easel. “I’m not going to make quota. They’re going to ship me to Iraq.”

“Well, you were able to hold out for four years,” I say. “That’s pretty good, right?”

“I could have held out for ten years if someone high profile had their kids serving,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “A congressman’s kid, a senator’s kid, one of the Bush twins, one of the five Romney brothers… anyone! That sort of thing would make recruiting so much easier.”

“Maybe you can get transfered into an interrogation job,” I say.

“This is the Army, not the White House,” says Lt. Vic Easel. “Failure is not rewarded. They’re not going to give a failed recruiter the privilege of making naked man pyramids out of frightened Arabs. I’m going straight to streets of the Sunni Triangle.”

At least he’ll have a chance to ride on the robot bear.