Captain Mafia

We are the Captain Mafia.

 

We are the lowly company grade officers who work our tails off to make sure things get done.  We gather the intelligence, make the reports, create the slide show presentations and make sure our bosses know what in the heck is going on.  We are the minority here in a sea of oak leaves, eagles and stars.  In the real army, we would be company commanders and battle captains, directing soldiers into the fray and putting down the insurgency with bullets and rockets, but here in the staff, our weapons are our computers and telephones for we are just cogs in the war machine, the oarsmen on the assault craft, the donkeys pulling the cart full of aimless field and general grades (although at times it feels like WE are pulling a cart full of donkeys instead of the other way around).  

 

We are the Captain Mafia.

 

In the world of “planners” and “doers”, we deafly epitomize the latter.  Ours is a brotherhood (and sisterhood) of folks whose “give a crap” factor might not be as high as others, but we still do the work because it’s what needs to be done.  Do we take our job seriously?  Sure.  Do we take ourselves seriously?  Not always.  Do we take our superiors seriously?  Usually not.  We have no subordinates because in a top heavy staff, we are the lowest men, and crap always rolls downhill (and gains speed as it rolls).  Sure, there is a smattering of Command Sergeants Major here and a couple of warrants behind a desk or two, but the few enlisted amongst us, with no responsibility, have more power than the lowly captain... and we as captains can be a jealous lot. 

 

We are the Captain Mafia.

 

Cross one of us, and buddy, you’ve just placed yourself in a most particular situation (and when I say particular, I mean particularly bad).  We watch each others back around here.  Mistreat your slide maker and your budget request just might get conveniently misplaced.  Want to keep one of our ranks late to do the work you failed to do?  Only if you want your pass paperwork in the bottom of a shredder.  Want to suddenly develop a pay problem?  Make the mistake of putting your name on a report that your O-3 subordinate worked for two weeks on and not give him credit for it.  

 

We are the Captain Mafia.

 

We have our fingers on the pulse of all aspects of what’s going on.  Our numbers are few, but we serve in every section and operate on every staff.  Of course we are aware that we have no control nor do we have the slightest inkling of authority to make any decisions, but we still do our jobs.  Why?  Some of us do it because we answered the call of the war drums to fight a faceless foe.  Others of us do it because we are here to support our family of warriors, no matter what the mission calls for.  Most of us IRR folks do it because we were foolish enough to read our mail one November morning in 2006.  Regardless of the reason, we are here, and we can’t wait to go home.