Yo, that’s WAQ

I’ve been writing a lot of articles lately on the Warrior Adventure Quest (WAQ) program, a few which we’re picked up by CNN iReport. More importantly than the “career” aspects and the “program” itself (however awesome), I met five of the most amazing bearded outdoorsy whiskey drinkin’ freak of mens around. (And I got to participate in some pretty rad outdoor adventures with aforementioned men.)

The “Fab Fünf” as I affectionately call them, were brought to Germany to run the programs of WAQ and were a breath of fresh air for Jeremy and myself in a somewhat stifling community. (let’s face it, we need more friends …)

As a reward for all of our hard work the last few months (mostly theirs but I have a camera, so I was able to go along …) we were awarded a day filled with big guns and German soldiers.

Damn it feels good to be a gansta.

Now, I’ve never shot a gun before and I’m not privy to the different kinds, how to use them, nor do I care, really. Guns don’t excite me. I have no desire to own one, carry one and I don’t grunt when holding one – that was until I found out I was awesome at shooting!

I held the gun (the rather heavy gun) and leaned back in pure drive-by style. The German Soldier I was working with kept trying to lean my body forward, but I was comfy so he let me go. Once I started shooting I hit the target flawlessly. Mr. German Soldier raised his eyebrow, patted me on the back and said, “Ah, snipper!”

Damn it feels good to be a gansta.

The “Fab Fünf” followed suite, shooting alongside training German Soldiers, exchanging broken German for broken English, bragging about hitting their marks, posing with their guns and quoting movies I’ve never seen.


Apparently guns have no language barrier.

Sadly though, all good things involving big guns and cute boys come to an end. (that’s how the saying goes, no?)

The morning after, two of the five in crew WAQ left to go back to the states – the beard tickler followed a few days later.

This move subsequently dropped our friend pool by nearly half. The two remaining are deep in our clenches and shall not be released until we’re good and ready. (We have renamed, peed on and branded them. They are ours, damnit!)

So I dedicate this blogpost to Jared, Mizey, Luis, the 25 dreadlocks I put into Luis’ hair, Jeff (Jeb) and Todd (Tad) - and of course, to Chuck, the man who made it all happen, and finally, Chuck's mustache. Thanks for the good times, drinks, adventures, stories and friendship.

Prost!