Echo, hm? The Mister was part of Echo Company. I forget all the things. It was so long. So long that any time I told people the things, they’d tell me that was too many things, and I’d say what I’d been taught to say, which I no longer remember, because one of the great joys of my life is not having to recite and write that stuff everywhere I go.
“Baby, what was the thing?”
“Echo Company thing.”
“Echo Company 3rd BSB FSC 3/69 AR BN”
He had different jobs based on location, stateside and … holy hell, I forget the words, isn’t that fantastic? Not stateside, the other.
“Baby, what’re the words for not stateside?”
Yeah, that. It not make sense.
The last few years he was HR, somethin about S-1. If you’d ask me what he did then, I’da told you he delicately managed the raving delusional madness of his narcissistic boss and babysat grown men using only the Uniform Code of Military Justice and a cell phone.
So anyway, that’s what Echo means to me. Shit I don’t have to recite anymore.