Page 2AThe Battalion/Tuesday August 13, 1985
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Problems with gas
Union Carbide has once again demonstrated its inability at
handling toxic chemicals. Last year, a chemical derivative of
methyl isocyanate leaked from a Union Carbide plant in Bhopal,
India, killing more than 2,000 people. Sunday, a similar leak oc-
cured at a Union Carbide plant in Institute, W. Va. Six employ
ees were injured, 125 Institute residents were hospitalized and
thousands were trapped indoors.
The Institute accident didn’t have the fatalities the Bhopal
incident did, but the principle remains unchanged. Union Car
bide claimed the Indian accident couldn’t happen in the United
States. It blamed the Bhopal problem on inexperienced techni
cians.
Obviously, Union Carbide’s problems run deeper than
merely the location of its plants. It olamed the accident in Insti
tute on a “pressure buildup.” It claims the surrounding commu
nity was never in danger.
But thousands of people were inconvenienced by the acci
dent. Warning systems designed to alert the community to such
an accident did not work as efficiently as they were supposed to.
Why was there not a device to warn plant workers of a pressure
buildup before a valve failed and the chemicals were released
into the air?
The citizens of Institute are lucky their town did not become
another Bhopal. How many accidents must Union Carbide ex
perience before it realizes its methods of handling toxic chemi
cals are deficient?
If Union Carbide is going to deal with toxic chemicals, it
needs to learn to keep its gas under control.
The Battalion Editorial Board
SH
MkRGVUES
HOUSTDH POST
United feature Syndicate
Maneuvers at Ft. Hood
The sacrifice in the name of democracy is good
I’ve never
wanted to join the
Army. I’ve never
liked guns and
I’ve liked the
thought of using
them even less.
But as I write this
column my feet
are hanging out
the side of a Huey
helicopter 4,500
feet above Temple.
Hood this time of year — at least the
parts we were in — are big, hot and
dusty. After few hours, I’m more than
ready to head back to College Station.
Many of the men from the Bryan unit
have been at the installation for almost
two weeks.
Loren Steffy
We were issued canteens before we
left because of the heat and heavy long-
sleeved shirts so the sun didn’t turn our
skin into fried wontons.
Recently, Karl Pallmeyer and I re
ceived an invitation fromSgt. James Par
ker of Texas Army National Guard to
accompany several members of Bryan’s
163 Armored Cavalry Regiment to Ft.
Hood and watch them do maneuvers.
The only words that describe Ft.
I’ve seen countless war movies,
watched every episode of “M*A*S*H”
and heard my snare of horror stories
about life in the armed forces. But de
spite all this conditioning, I was still
>hc
shocked by what these guys eat.
We were given a complementary
MRE — a meal-ready-to-eat. De
hydrated everything in a heat-sealed
plastic bag. It made the food in the MSC
taste like gormet cuisine.
As I bit into the cold, greasy, alleged
hot dog, I got the full grasp of what was
going on at Ft. Hood. These guys aren’t
out there to quell some meglomaniacal
desires or live out some fantasy about
blasting commies, they are out there for
us. Sure, they may have fantasized
about shooting invading Russians, but
they could do that at home.
They’re out there in the heat and the
dust, eating food most cockroaches
would avoid like Raid so that we can en
joy democratic freedom.,Many of them
are using their only vacation time to
practice protecting the ideals and rights
we just assume will be there every morn
ing when we wake up.
My stereotypical view of a guardsman
as a trigger-happy, beer-drinking luna
tic who likes to play army with his bud
dies on the weekends is shattered. No
one would live like this just for a chance
to play Ram bo.
With all the billions of dollars the
United States budgets for defense, these
guys benefit the least from those expen
ditures. Most of their Jeeps are old,
their uniforms are fraying around the
edges and their weaponry is basically
whatever the “regular Army” decides it
no longer wants.
These guys don’t fit the commercial
image the Army promotes in their ad
campaigns, but they could do the job if
the situation arises. Certainly their
training makes them more qualified to
five an M-16 or drive a tank than 1 am.
While I was wiping the dust out of my j
face and trying not to fall off the backot j
a \eep, l remembered the phrase,"It’sa I
dirty job but somebody lias to do it.
Someone has to be the soldier ant
someone has to be the journalist.
If we ever went to war, America
would be much better off being pro- f
tected by them rather than me. I’m not
the soldier type. I like wearing my hair
too long, and I like voicing my opinion]
too much. But I also recognize that if no
one wanted to be a soldier, I wouldn’t
have those freedoms. Someone has to be
ready if those freedoms are threatened.
Loren Steffy is a junior journalism ma
jor and the Opinion Page Editor for
The Battahon.
but the food, hours and work area are terrible!
It takes a special
type of man to be
in the National
Guard. You have
to be able to stand
the extreme heat
of the desert or
the extreme cold
of the artic. You
have to be able to
travel for days
without rest. You
Karl
Pallmeyer
have to be ready to react to an enemy at-
:k
tack. You have to be ready to attack or
retreat at a moments notice. You have to
eat Army food.
Last Thursday my editor and I had
an opportunity to see how the Guard
lives. For the past week, several compa
nies of the Texas National Guard have
been going through training maneuvers
at Ft. Hood.
Sgt. Parker of the Bryan National
Guard was going to fly down to Ft.
Hood and asked The Battalion and
KBTX-TV to send someone along. Be
ing one who likes to experience new
things, especially when my editor tells
me to, I agreed to go.
I got up at 0500 hours Thursday,
that’s five o’clock in the morning for the
rest of the world. I am not one who likes
to get up early. My freshman year I de
cided that I would never take an 8:00
class again so I wasn’t used to the morn-
ing.
I grabbed my camera and met my ed
itor for breakfast at a restaurant. I was
in no condition to cook even a bowl of
cereal. After a good hot breakfast and
several cups of coffee, I was ready to
leap into battle.
We arrived at the armory and were
briefed. We would leave Bryan by heli
copter, arrive at Ft. Hood in about an
hour, then take a jeep around the battle
ground for about two hours and then
take the helicopter back to Bryan. It
sounded like fun. A reporter and cam
eraman from KBTX snowed up later
and were given the same briefing. We
were given helmets, fatigue jackets and
canteens.
The helicopter landed and the pilot
briefed us on what to do if the neli-
copter crashed. Being the first time I
had ridden on any sort of an aircraft I
was a little nervous, but once we got in
the air everything was alright. At 4500
feet in the air you get a totally new per
spective on the world and it’s nice and
cool.
When we got to Ft. Hood we circled
over the battlefield. Below us were
tanks, artillery vehicles and lots of
Guardsmen. As we landed in a clearing
I was the first one off the helicopter. I
ran, keeping my head down, to a couple
of jeeps parked by a nearby tree. Once
all of our party had gotten over to the
jeeps we loaded up and rode to where
the action was.
We came down into a valley where
some jeeps, tanks and artillery vehicles
were waiting to be attacked. I jumped
out the jeep and started taking pictures
of the men and their machines. When I
told the men on one of the artillery vehi
cles that I was from The Battalion they
were thrilled, they went to Texas A&M
too. I took their pictures while my editor
got their names and talked to them. Be
fore they got the order to move out they
gave us a present, an MRE (meal ready-
to-eat). An MRE contains an entree and
some other stuff to make a complete
meal. Some have steak, some have pork,
some have weenies, sorrie have spaghetti
and some have things that are not read
ily identified. The old Army C rations,
which were not the best tasting things in
the world, had been replaced by the
even worse MREs. I put our prize in my
camera bag and we went back to the
We got back in the jeeps and drove by
a place where a bunch of Guardsmen
were buying lunch from a guy in a cater
ing van. Considering the way the MRE
tasted I bet the caterer was making a
heavy profit.
top I had no trouble getting out of the
jeep. The commander showed us the
valley where the enemy was about to
come through. He said that they would
be trapped and all we had to do was
wait.
ready for the nice cool helicopter ride
back home. J was afraid that I wouldn't
be able to get back home if I stayed for
the battle.
Then the real fun started. We drove
up a hill that had not much of a road. I
have ridden many roller coasters in my
day but none could compare to the ride
up that hill. When we finally got to the
But it was time to go back to the heli
copter. I had some fun but I was hot,
tired, dirty, hungry for real food, my
camera had been turned into a dustball,
my canteen was almost empty and I was
je T
lack at the jeep the commander
didn’t look too happy. We were about to
be overrun by the enemy. No shots were
being fired on these maneuvers, they
were just trying to see who could get
into and out of position the quickest.
We loaded up the jeeps and narrowlv
escaped capture. We drove up to a hill
over looking our previous postion and
waited while tanks and artillery vehicles
drove by raising a cloud of dust. It was
getting very hot at this time and the dust
didn’t help matters. The men in the jeep
broke out an MRE to share with the re
porter from KBTX. Since she looked a
lot better than either my editor or my
self we understood the special special
treatment she was getting from these
men who hadn’t seena woman in almost
a week. This MRE contained weenies.
After trying one of the weenies I de
cided I could wait until we got back
home for lunch.
When my editor and I got back lb
Bryan we had a burger aqd went back to
The Battalion’s newsroom. Everyone
wanted to hear our war stories as we
broke out the MRE to share with the
staff. Our MRE contained a pork patty,
applesauce, cheese spread, crackers,
cookies, chewing gum, a spoon and Five
sheets of toliet paper. The cookies
weren’t too bad, the crackers tasted like
plywood and the cheese spread was too
disgusting to even look at. My editor
took the chewing gum, the applesauce
and the pork patty. We both wondered
what good five sheets of toilet paper
would be out in the field.
It takes a special type of person to be
u d ;
in the National Guar
special.
and I’m not that
Karl Pallmeyer is a senior journalism
major and a columnist for The Battal-
photo by KARL PALLMEYER
Greg Curry, an Aggie National Guardsman on maneuvers at Ft.
Hood, shows off the Army’s idea of food to go — a meal-ready-to-eat.
The Battalion
USPS 045 360
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Kellie Dworaczyk, Editor
Kay Mallett, John Hallelt, News Editors
Loren Steffy, Opinion Page Editor
Sarah Oates, City Editor
Travis Tingle, Sports Editor
Editorial Policy
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operated as a community service to Texas A&M and
Bryan-College Station.
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Editorial Board or the author, and do not necessarily rep
resent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, faculty
or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for
students in reporting, editing and photography dasses
within the Department of Communications.
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: foi ’
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